Chapter Thirty-One #2
Her soul wept for Aiden the child, and the horrors he’d been forced to endure, but that boy was long gone, replaced by a stone-cold killer with no conscience. A man who’d crossed too many lines, who had a gun and nothing left to lose. She couldn’t let her compassion get in the way of survival.
“You worked there,” he snapped, spinning back toward her. The sound of his boots on the ground was angry. “You smiled at them. You trusted them.” His nostrils flared. “You smiled at me.”
Confusion flickered through her fear. “What are you talking about?”
His mouth twitched, humorless. Then he crossed the room and yanked down on a thin cord hanging beside a column. Metal rings whispered as fabric slid aside. Chloe’s breath left her in a rush.
The gym stared back at her.
It was so familiar, with the logo Sandy and her team had designed hanging on the wall. The free-weight section. The row of treadmills. Everything was exactly as it should be—except for the mirror.
It wasn’t a mirror at all. Her reflection didn’t stare back. The glass was dark and flat.
Her stomach rolled. “That’s impossible,” she whispered.
“You kept them,” he said, watching her face instead of the glass. “All the renovations you did, from the new floors to new equipment to fresh lighting. You ripped everything else down to the studs.” His voice sharpened. “But not the mirrors.”
Her throat closed. She remembered standing in the empty gym after she bought it, thinking the mirrors were fine. They were expensive and perfectly aligned. Why waste money replacing something that already worked?
“They were one of the few things I didn’t change,” she breathed.
Aiden smiled then, and it wasn’t kind or triumphant, just knowing. “If you had,” he said softly, “you would’ve found this room.”
Her blood turned to ice. Robin, Sandy, her husband, and Joel might still be alive. And Evan.
“I could see everything,” he continued. “Everyone, including you. You stood there lifting weights, smiling at me in here.”
Tears burned, hot and sudden. “I didn’t know,” she whispered again.
“But you did,” he cut in. “You smiled, and then you trained clients as if nothing was wrong and demons didn’t live in front of your face and under your feet.”
The words hit harder than his anger.
Chloe wrapped her arms around herself. The gym, the place she’d poured her soul into, suddenly felt like a macabre crime scene she’d unknowingly helped preserve.
“I’m sorry,” she said, the apology inadequate but real. “I’m so sorry.”
For a moment, something naked flashed across his face. Hurt. Loss. Then it shuttered.
“Sorry doesn’t undo it,” he said.
And she knew deep in her bones that this wasn’t just about what she hadn’t known. It was about what she almost uncovered and never did.
“I wasn’t the only one Donald and Pam deceived,” she said. “They fooled the police, social workers, and parents. They fooled you, too.”
She didn’t soften it. Truth only mattered if it landed.
The words hit. She saw it in the tightening of his jaw, the way his grip on the gun shifted. It wasn’t steadier or controlled, but sloppier.
Good. Cracks were openings. And yes, that was Kayne’s voice in her head saying that.
Aiden launched into another rant, voice rising and falling, bouncing between fury and justification.
Maybe he thought that if he said it enough times, it might make it righteous.
Chloe listened with half her mind while the other half calculated contingencies, as Kayne had taught her.
She noticed the gun, his stance, and the way he favored one foot when he turned.
How close would she have to get to make it count? Most importantly, could she do it?
She was strong and trained, but he was armed, keyed up, and wholly unpredictable. One wrong move and there would be no second chance, no do-over, no heroic recovery.
Her gaze flicked to the doorway.
“Danica,” she said, cutting clean through his tirade. “I want to see my sister.”
Aiden stopped short. “No.”
“You said we’d discuss her,” Chloe pressed, forcing her voice steady even as her pulse thundered. “If this is about me understanding what you went through, then you don’t get to keep using her as leverage.”
His eyes darkened. “She doesn’t matter.”
“She matters to me,” Chloe shot back. “And if you’re going to keep talking about fairness, then prove it. Let me see her.”
She held his gaze, daring him to contradict his own twisted rules.
Silence stretched between them, taut as a wire.
Finally, he exhaled hard and scrubbed a hand through his hair, agitation bleeding through every line of his body. “Fine,” he said sharply. “But you don’t touch her. You don’t talk to her unless I say so.”
Relief nearly buckled her knees, but she held herself upright and nodded. “Okay.”
He motioned with the gun, and they descended the stairs and moved down the narrow hall. Chloe’s senses were screaming as they approached the closed door at the end. Her heart pounded so hard she was sure he could hear it. Please be alive. Please be okay.
Aiden reached for the handle.
BOOM.
The sound detonated through the space, deep and violent, shaking the walls and floors beneath their feet. Dust rained from the ceiling, and the lights flickered.
Aiden staggered, shock and disbelief flashing across his face as the world literally fractured around them.
Somewhere beyond the concrete and chaos, she felt it in her bones. Kayne was coming.