Chapter 33
I Wanted It To Be Over
Emily's Search History: is it normal to feel relief when your protector is violent?
Emily
It’s hard to focus on clients' problems when you’re constantly on edge, worried about someone watching you.
Somehow, I make it through to lunch without crying. Though, when Eli appears with a panini from the cafe down the street, tears do threaten to fall because I’m so grateful.
I’ve somehow, in the space of a weekend, begun to find his presence comforting. Okay, fine, I’ve felt comforted by him since the beginning if I stop lying to myself.
More texts arrive during lunch.
Anonymous: You can’t hide from me.
Anonymous: He can’t have you, you’re mine.
Eli’s face darkens with rage. “We need to enact the plan. Tonight.”
“Really?” I ask, biting my nail. “So soon?”
“She’s already shown that she knows where we live. It’s too dangerous to do nothing.” Eli snatches up my rubbish and strides to the bin. “This ends tonight.”
He gives me a meaningful look, one that lingers, and then he’s gone.
The rest of my clients steal some of my focus away from Gia and her threats. I don’t understand. Why now? It’s been a year since I left.
Eli texts me throughout the afternoon with details on what I should do when I leave the office.
Nerves strike through me at the thought of provoking Gia into showing her face. But Eli is right. I can’t keep living my life scared of her appearing out of nowhere. I don’t want to constantly be looking over my shoulder.
So yes, the time is right.
I wait for everyone else to leave before texting Eli for reassurance. His plan is simple. But my heart still stutters with fear.
Eli
Angel: You’ll be right there the whole time, right?
The way she wants me close—needs me close—has my eyes threatening to roll to the back of my head.
Eli: I won’t let you out of my sight.
I don’t particularly love this idea. But Emily is growing increasingly anxious by the day. Someone is definitely watching her. We need to bring them out.
So we’re going to make them think Emily is walking home alone.
The most likely culprit is Gianna, her ex.
Emily steps out from her work, locking the door behind her, then scanning the street, looking left and right, before she sets off on foot.
I have my mask in place, and a hoodie covering it, while I keep a good distance back. Not too far, that she’s not in my line of sight, but far enough that Gianna will think she’s alone.
Someone steps out from a doorway, putting themself between Emily and me. They continue walking down the street in her direction, following every turn she makes.
Gianna.
I keep myself back. Just enough not to look obvious. Just enough to blend into the crowded London street.
Gianna catches up to Emily. I quicken my pace.
Emily turns down a dark alleyway. What is she doing?
A group of slow walkers crowd in front of me. I dodge around them. I’m losing time. I can’t see Emily.
I turn into the same alley she did.
My blood runs cold.
Emily has a bag over her head, her arms flailing around as she tries to fight off Gianna. She screams.
I’m running.
I secure an arm around Gianna’s neck. She kicks out at me, but I hold secure, waiting for her body to fall slack. She’s taller than I expected. More muscular. It takes longer than I’d like for her to pass out.
As soon as her body turns limp, I drop it, rushing to Emily’s side. She’s got the sack off her head and she's gasping on air. I pull her into my arms while she trembles against me.
“Why did you come down here?”
She whimpers. “I wanted it to be over.”
She was banking on Gianna grabbing her while it was dark and quiet.
I run my hands over her arms until she’s no longer shivering. “We’ve got her.”
“What do we do now?” Emily asks, looking at me with wide, trusting eyes.
“I’m going to grab my car; it’s around the corner from here. Wait here, if she starts to come to, jab this in her.” I pass her a syringe filled with a sedative.
“You’re leaving me here?” she sniffles.
“I’ll be less than five minutes. Promise, Angel.”
She nods jerkily.
The walk to my car and journey back feels like it takes years, not minutes.
Thankfully, this alley is one I can pull the boot of my car up to, and no one is around anymore to see us drag Gianna’s body into it.
Emily hops in the passenger seat beside me and then we’re gone. Heading home. Our home.
Emily
Eli carries Gia’s body over his shoulder, descending to his interrogation room. The last time I was here, I was terrified.
Now? I’m angry.
And, okay, maybe a little scared.
He pushes her into the chair in the centre, then yanks off the hood and mask covering her face.
But…
It’s not Gia.
I gasp. “Liam?”
Eli looks at Liam’s limp form in confusion. “Your patient?”
“Yeah. He has OCD.”
Eli picks up the bag that Liam dropped at the scene when he was trying to kidnap me. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it not being Gia. Liam said he thought I was in danger. I didn’t expect it to be from himself.
Eli hisses angrily as he pulls out a knife from Liam’s bag. Then rope. Duct tape. Plastic wrap. What the fuck.
My choked gasp reverberates through the otherwise silent room.
Eli’s eyes narrow, expression turning menacing. He stalks towards his table of tools and snatches something up before spinning back around and marching over to Liam.
But then he freezes. His head twists in my direction where I’m standing just inside the doorway. “You might want to leave, Angel.”
Maybe I should.
“No,” I say, my voice sounding surer than I feel inside. “I need to watch.”
Eli continues to hesitate. But then he picks up a chair from the corner of the room and spins it around. He motions for me to sit. I scuttle over and take a seat gingerly, apprehension rife inside me.
Eli grips Liam’s jaw then passes something under his nose. Smelling salts.
Liam comes to—jolting, trembling.
“What do you want with my angel?” Eli seethes, his muscles coiled tight as he tries to restrain his obvious fury.
I should be frightened of him.
Instead… the sight of him furious for me calms me in a way it shouldn’t.
Liam mutters something under his breath.
Eli clearly doesn’t like whatever he hears because he grabs some pliers from his table, then rips out two of Liam's fingernails. Liam screams, raw and broken.
“You better start talking before I get creative.”
Liam whimpers. “Killing me won't stop this.”
“What is this?”
Liam doesn’t answer Eli’s question quick enough. He cries out again as Eli smashes a hammer into one of his hands tied to the chair. The sound of bone and cartilage breaking is still noticeable despite the sounds of Liam’s pain.
“It’s your fault we discovered her anyway,” Liam spits.
Eli goes rigid.
“We’ve known that Karl’s group were looking into us for a while, well before your little stunt a few weeks ago.”
The organ traffickers.
“Shit,” Eli curses.
“I was just supposed to follow you at first. Surveillance. But then you became fixated on the shrink. It put her on our radar.” Liam shrugs.
“Higher ups decided we should scare her a bit first—just to mess with you. That’s why I pretended to be a patient, to find an in.
But then we realised we could keep you distracted if she was missing. It was time to take her.”
“And when you had her?” Eli grinds out the words slowly, his jaw tense.
Even broken, Liam smiles. “We do what we do best.”
Eli lets out a furious roar. Then, a pressure-filled crack tears through the air—a low, grinding pop followed by a final, decisive snap. My stomach flips as the sound echoes, a hollow percussion of bone giving way, the kind of noise that seems to shudder straight through my spine.
Liam's body slumps, his neck broken.
Silence.
My hands shake. My heartbeat crashes in my ears.
Eli turns to me, approaching slowly. Waiting to see if I’ll flinch. If I’ll recoil. If this is the moment I finally fear him.
But I don’t.
I launch myself from the chair and into his arms, wrapping around him, clinging to him.
His hands splay over my back, grounding me. Claiming me.
“You’re not scared of me,” he murmurs into my hair, almost disbelieving.
I shake my head against him. “You protected me.”
Eli exhales—a broken, relieved sound, like those three words matter more than anything. “I’ll always protect you.”