35. Chapter 35
Chapter 35
Anastasia
W rists bound, I stare down the barrel of the gun Jake has pointed at me, his free hand gripping the wheel as he drives us further from the university, further into the night. The dense forest ahead looms closer, its dark silhouette stretching endlessly against the horizon. My throat goes dry.
He still hasn’t noticed my phone.
Pain radiates from the dagger lodged deep in my thigh, my skin searing with every shift of the car. Blood soaks into my dress, warm and sticky, but the adrenaline coursing through my veins is the only thing keeping me from slipping into unconsciousness.
"You know," Jake muses, his tone almost casual, "I'm almost impressed Noah was able to score you. I mean, I know he’s good-looking, but could he really be pleasing you so well that you willingly threw your life away for him?"
Still reeling from the blow Jake landed across my face earlier, I taste dried blood on my lips. My heart hammers against my ribcage, but I lift my chin, forcing myself to hold his gaze.
"You’d be surprised what people are willing to do for the ones they love," I hiss, voice hoarse but defiant. "I know that concept is foreign to you-"
The gun cracks against my cheek before I can finish, splitting my skin open with a sharp sting. The metallic taste floods my mouth as fresh blood trails down my face.
"I told you to be careful how you speak to me, Anastasia," Jake warns, his voice sharp as a blade. "That mouth of yours is going to be the fine line between an easy death or a very painful one."
The word death lingers in the air, a ghost pressing against my chest.
I tense. Every ache, every wound suddenly feels irrelevant.
"You’re going to kill me?" I whisper, not sure if I even want the answer.
Jake exhales, as if my question exhausts him. "It was all so simple. Pin the murder on you after we got what we needed from Noah. Use you as leverage. But no, you had to go and give my cold-hearted brother something ridiculous like a conscience." His grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning white. "So, I had to exhaust my next best option. Get my brother back in line. Cover my people’s asses."
A smirk stretches across his face, chilling and cruel.
"Planning your suicide was the easiest part."
A cold, trembling horror grips my entire body.
"You were drowning in guilt over Levi. Guilt over what you did. Cole tried to talk you down, tried to get you to turn yourself in at the party, but in the end, it was all too much. You took matters into your own hands."
I glare at the gun, my vision blurring as the weight of his words crashes over me.
"You’re going to kill me with it," I whisper. "Aren’t you?"
Jake’s smile widens.
"There we go, Ana. Now you’re getting it."
Fear coils around my throat, strangling me. I turn my gaze outside, watching the snow start to fall, coating the ground in a thin, undisturbed layer. My thoughts spiral, every mistake, every regret flashing before me.
But through it all, one thing stands out. One undeniable truth.
I love Noah.
And now I may never see him again.
Tears slip down my face, burning against the fresh wound on my cheek. Dread suffocates me, the lingering presence of death breathing down my neck.
"And my dad?" My voice shakes. "My mom? Is that why Walker and Cole stayed back? To kill them-"
"Only if you didn’t cooperate, love," Jake says, his tone suddenly clipped. "But you got in the car, didn’t you?" He glances at me through the rearview mirror, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "Which means Cole and Walker shouldn’t be far behind us."
His grip on the wheel tightens.
"For this to work, we all need to be there for your suicide."
The finality in his voice sends ice through my veins.
I am running out of time.
"That kid," Jake sighs, shaking his head as he grabs a phone from the side door. The way he says it, so casual and dismissive, sends a chill up my spine.
With a flick of his wrist, he tosses the phone onto the dashboard. My stomach knots as I recognize the childish case.
"That kid could’ve walked away alive that night," Jake mutters, almost thoughtful. Then his voice hardens. "If only he hadn’t recorded my deal."
My breath catches.
"That’s Levi’s phone?" I whisper.
Jake hums in confirmation, tapping his fingers idly against the wheel. "Mhm. After Cole gave him a good tap, Walker and I retrieved it. Incriminating as hell at the time, but now…"
He snatches the phone back up and tosses it into my lap.
"It’s the very thing that’s going to pin his entire death on you."
A sickening weight settles in my stomach. The screen is dark, but even through the glass, I can see it, his dried blood, smeared and flaking along the edges.
I swallow hard, my grip tightening around the device.
"All of this?" I rasp. "All of this because you were scared a child would speak up about your crimes?"
Jake scoffs, his fingers tapping against the wheel again. "The video was incriminating," he says, as if it’s obvious. "That’s why the phone is wiped now. To authorities, it’ll just look like you took a little token to remember your kill."
My vision tunnels.
He’s not just framing me, he’s erasing Levi.
Erasing the truth.
And unless I find a way out of this, no one will ever know what really happened.
"How could you hate your own brother so much," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the hum of the car. "That you were willing to do all of this just to prove a point?"
Jake exhales through his nose, fingers tightening around the steering wheel.
"You clearly know nothing about the kind of man our father was," he murmurs, his tone laced with something dark, something almost resentful. "Our father was ruthless. Always choosing Noah, no matter how hard I tried. You think the scars on his neck were bad?" He lets out a humorless chuckle. "Imagine having them all over your body, simply because you couldn’t keep up with your older brother."
My stomach twists.
"And your mother?" I press, hoping, praying, that there's still some shred of humanity left in him.
Jake’s jaw tenses. His eyes twitch.
"She died… of cancer. I was ten. Noah was fourteen." His voice is quieter now, distant, as if he’s slipping into a memory he doesn’t want to relive. "After that my dad pulled us into the family business. He didn’t know how to cope with the loss." A bitter smirk ghosts across his lips. "My mother was the only woman that man ever truly loved."
"So he turned cold," I whisper.
Jake nods once, fingers drumming against the wheel. "And dragged us down with him."
I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words settle into my bones. There’s something here. A fracture in the mask he wears.
Trying to tap into whatever is left of his humanity, I clear my throat.
"You loved your mother?" I ask, my voice softer now.
Jake’s grip tightens. His lips part slightly before he answers, his voice quieter, rawer.
"Almost as much as my father did," he admits. "Almost as much as Noah."
For a fleeting moment, his gaze flickers, lost in something unspoken, something he won’t allow himself to feel.
But then, just as quickly, he shakes his head, pulling himself back from the edge of that thought. His expression hardens.
"But she’s gone now," he mutters. "And my father’s work still needs to be done."
The moment is over.
And whatever shred of humanity I thought I saw in him vanishes.
"I don’t want to die," I whisper, my breath trembling as it fogs against the icy air.
The words feel foreign, like they belong to someone else. Someone weak. Someone who isn't me.
But they’re mine.
"I don’t want my life to end before it’s even begun," I hiss, my gaze locking onto the road ahead, already slick with ice, already a death trap waiting to be triggered.
Snow falls harder now, thickening into an unforgiving storm. The party is surely inside by now, warm and untouched by the nightmare unfolding here.
I hope my father isn’t feeling ill.
I hope my mother kept those pictures, capturing moments she didn't know were our last.
I hope-
"You don’t get a choice in what happens to you, Ana," Jake mutters, his voice disturbingly even, like he’s discussing something as trivial as the weather. His grip on the wheel is firm, confident, like a man in control of fate itself. "For what it’s worth, I’ll make your death smooth… painless. Whatever Cole and Walker decide to do to you after you’re gone, well-" He exhales, as if he’s already bored with the conversation. "You won’t feel a thing."
My stomach lurches.
This is bad. This is so fucking bad.
I squeeze my eyes shut for a fraction of a second, but it’s enough for the memories to rush in. My father’s arms wrapping around me, warm and strong, the scent of his cologne grounding me in safety. My mother’s laughter, the way she’d insist on just one more picture, even after a hundred had been taken.
Noah.
His hands on my skin, his lips against mine. The way he looks at me, like I’m something worth fighting for.
But I won’t get any of that, will I?
I won’t get-
A rustling sound breaks through my spiraling thoughts.
Jake snarls. "What the fuck?"
His hand jerks to his coat pocket. His brows furrow in confusion before his eyes go wide, wilder and more frantic than I've seen.
"What the fuck is this?"
He rips out my phone, his face twisting in disbelief.
His gun falters, just for a moment.
And in that moment, everything in my mind goes silent.
No more thinking. No more waiting.
No more fear.
"You planted this-"
No hesitation.
No mercy.
"Go to hell," I hiss.
With every ounce of strength I have left, I lunge forward, wrenching the wheel toward me. Hard.
Jake’s instincts kick in, his foot slams down on the brake, the car jerking violently. His gun flies from his grip, disappearing somewhere on the floorboard.
The tires skid, too much ice, no traction.
And then-
Everything turns to chaos.
The car lurches sideways, gravity shifting violently. My stomach drops. My pulse spikes. The world tips, then flips.
The first impact is brutal.
Glass shatters, the windows bursting under pressure. My body slams into the seatbelt, the force knocking the air from my lungs. My head cracks against the headrest, the sharp sting of pain blinding.
We roll.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Metal screams. The car twists and crumples around us.
Then, stillness.
For a moment, I don’t register anything but the deafening ringing in my ears. My own ragged breaths sound miles away.
Hanging upside down, my body sways slightly against the seatbelt, my arms numb, my legs screaming in protest. Blood drips from my forehead, trailing down my face, thick and warm.
Pain pulses everywhere. Sharp. Unforgiving.
Jake isn’t moving.
His head is slumped to the side, a fresh wound bleeding into his hairline. His eyes are shut, his body eerily still.
I don’t know if he’s dead.
I don’t care.
I have one chance.
Just one.
Swallowing the agony threatening to consume me, I reach for my seatbelt, my fingers slipping against the blood coating my hands. I take a deep breath, one last inhale before I commit to what happens next.
Then I press the release.
I plummet onto the shattered ceiling of the car, my leg seizing in agony the moment I hit the ground. A broken cry rips from my throat, but I bite it down.
No time for pain.
No time for anything.
The broken window ahead yawns open, cold air slipping through, a whisper of freedom just within reach.
Stay here… and die.
Or leave.
Fight.
Survive.
I steal one last glance at Jake, his unconscious form barely stirring.
Then, I make my choice.
Run.