Chapter Forty-One
Annie
We spend the rest of the day together in the living room, putting on light, happy shows, and trying to reset after everything that happened. It feels good, safe to be surrounded by my real family. The people who would never treat me the way that woman did.
I still can’t believe she hit me.
And if I’m honest, I don’t understand why I wanted so badly to believe her in the first place. Looking back now, it’s obvious because the signs were there. She must have been high those times we met. The way she looked, the way she acted… it all makes sense now.
She didn’t want me.
She wanted what I could give her.
And there’s no way I’m ever letting that happen.
Aston is staying over, and he and Dad had a long talk earlier about everything.
Dad wanted to make sure Aston was really in this, that he could support me properly while I’m still a bit shaken.
Aston didn’t hesitate. He made it clear he’s here for the long haul, and hearing that settles something deep inside me.
I hate that I hurt him today. The way I snapped at him, the things I said…
I’ll fix that tonight.
“I’m so tired,” I murmur, not really directing it at anyone as I curl further into Aston’s side.
“You’ve had a huge day, sweetheart,” Mum says gently. “Why don’t you head up to bed and try to get some proper sleep?”
I glance up at Aston, and he gives me a small nod.
“Yeah… that sounds good.” I push myself upright. “Thanks for everything today. You really showed up for me.” My chest tightens slightly, but this time it’s not pain. “I know I’m loved, and that’s what matters.”
They all smile at me, and I stand, Aston rising with me.
“Goodnight,” I say.
“Night, sweetheart,” Mum replies, while Dad and Ella echo her.
“Oh, and Aston…” Dad adds, catching his attention.
“Yeah?”
“Look after her tonight. And if you need us, we’re just down the hall.”
“Of course,” Aston says easily. Then he glances at me with a soft smile. “C’mon, baby. Let’s get you to bed.”
I nod, taking his hand before we head toward the stairs. Halfway up, I lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek.
“What was that for?” he asks, amused.
“Just because,” I reply with a small smile.
He chuckles, and we make our way into my room.
As soon as the door closes behind us, his expression shifts slightly, more serious now.
“How are you really holding up?”
“I’m okay,” I say honestly. “It hurt… realizing she wasn’t who I wanted her to be. But at least I know now. I can move forward without wondering.” I shrug lightly. “My past isn’t something I want to keep revisiting.” I pull my shirt off and drop it aside, unclipping my bra.
“Well, I’m proud of you,” he says, stepping closer as he shrugs off his own shirt. “You could’ve let this break you, but you didn’t. You saw it for what it was and chose yourself. That takes strength.”
Warmth spreads through me at his words, and I step out of my pants, then grab my oversized gray 12GAUGE-Slayed T-shirt and pull it on before moving back into his space. He’s down to his boxer briefs now, solid and steady in front of me.
“I’m sorry about today,” I say, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing myself against him.
He smiles softly, shaking his head. “Already forgotten, baby.”
“No… I mean it.” I tighten my hold slightly. “I should’ve listened to you. You were trying to protect me, and I pushed you away. I won’t do that again. Not like that.”
“Annie,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers along my arm, “I don’t need you to always agree with me. But pushing me away… that hurt.” His voice lowers. “For a second there, it felt like I was losing you, and I can’t… I don’t want to feel that again.”
My chest tightens, but not in a painful way this time, more like something real settling into place. “I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper.
I rise onto my toes and press my lips to his. It’s soft at first, gentle reassurance, but he deepens it slightly, his hand sliding into my hair, pulling me closer. The other drops to my hip, grounding me.
We part slowly, and I smile up at him.
“I love you, Annie,” he says quietly. “Don’t ever forget that.”
“I won’t.” I hold his gaze. “I love you too. So much.”
“All right,” he says, his tone softening again. “Let’s get you into bed.”
I nod, and we climb in together. He settles on his back, and I tuck myself into his side, resting my head against him while my fingers trace lazy patterns across his chest.
“Goodnight, Lennox.”
“Night, Aston.”
Wrapped up in his arms, everything finally goes quiet.
For the first time in a long time, I feel at peace.
Maybe knowing the truth about Loretta has lifted something off me. Maybe not having to chase answers anymore is a relief in itself. I wasn’t really comfortable around her, and deep down I knew it.
My life was fine before she showed up.
And it’ll be just fine without her in it.
***
Music notes drift around me in a slow, circular rhythm, perfectly in sync, like they belong together. I smile as ribbons of color trail behind them, soft rainbows that seem to hum with every movement, making the melody feel richer, fuller.
They rise and fall in the air, weaving sound into something that fills me completely—hope, wonder, a quiet kind of excitement that settles deep in my chest. It feels like possibility. Like second chances.
Aston sits beneath the willow tree, watching me.
When his eyes meet mine, his smile breaks wide, bright enough that it feels like light itself spills from him, sending a shiver of warmth racing up my spine.
The music swells, growing louder, stronger, wrapping around me. There are no lyrics, no words to hold onto, but I don’t need them. The melody alone is enough, it is alive and electric beneath my skin.
I breathe it in, letting it carry me.
Letting it lift me.
And when I open my eyes again, Aston is walking toward me.
He reaches me without hesitation, pulling me into his arms as though I’ve always belonged there. His lips meet mine, soft and certain, and everything else fades away.
Suddenly, everything goes black.
Disorientation hits me hard, like I’ve been ripped out of something warm and thrown into nothing. There’s noise, struggling, movement, but it takes a second for it to register.
Am I still dreaming… or is this real?
My eyes snap open.
A hand clamps around my arm, yanking me from the bed.
I gasp, trying to focus, and then I see her.
Loretta.
She’s leaning over me, her grip tight, her face twisted with urgency and something far more unhinged. My heart slams violently against my ribs as I glance toward the floor—Aston.
He’s sprawled beside the bed, completely still.
Blood pools beneath his head, dark and spreading, and the sight knocks the breath from my lungs.
No.
I try to scream, but the sound barely forms before Loretta shoves something over my mouth, a cloth, damp and sharp with a chemical stench.
I inhale on instinct.
Big fucking mistake.
The fumes hit instantly, burning through my senses, making everything spin. I thrash against her, fighting with everything I have, but my body doesn’t respond the way it should. My limbs feel heavy, slow… useless.
“No…” I try to say, but it comes out slurred, broken.
My arms weaken, slipping from any real control. My vision blurs, and darkness creeps in at the edges.
She drags me from the bed, my heels scraping uselessly against the floor as I try and fail to hold onto anything.
Everything is slipping.
Fading.
The last thing I see…
Aston.
Still on the floor.
Not moving.
Oh my God! He’s too still!
***
The music in my head is wrong now.
Dark. Heavy. Each note crashing like thunder, low and ominous, echoing with something that feels like danger… like something terrible is coming.
I can’t stop it.
I can’t think.
A loud crash jolts through the darkness, and my eyes snap open.
Nothing.
Just black.
I try to move, but my arms won’t cooperate. Panic spikes as I realize they’re wrenched tightly behind my back, bound so hard it burns. My breathing comes in shallow, uneven breaths, my head is foggy and slow.
There’s something over my face.
I jerk, trying to shake it off, but it clings, almost suffocating.
Not just my face.
My whole head.
A burst of adrenaline hits, sharp and sudden. Terror floods my system, and I start thrashing, trying to break free from whatever’s holding me in place. My chest heaves as I drag in shaky breaths through the fabric, my pulse racing out of control.
What the fuck is going on?
Then it hits me…
Loretta.
Aston.
The image slams into me.
Him on the floor.
Blood.
Lots of blood.
A broken sound tears from my throat as I try to scream, forcing it past the fabric, desperate for anyone to hear me.
“Hey. Shut up.”
Her voice.
Close.
The bag is yanked off my head, and I gasp, sucking in air as the dim light stabs into my eyes. I blink rapidly, trying to focus…
And there she is.
Loretta.
Standing in front of me, smiling. Her pupils are blown wide, her expression is off—too sharp, too manic, like she’s barely tethered to reality.
“There she is,” she mutters, her tone dripping with mock affection. “My little girl.” She tosses the pillowcase aside like it’s nothing. “Smile for the camera, honey.”
“What—” I start, but a flash explodes in my face. I flinch hard, squeezing my eyes shut as white spots burst across my vision. When I force them open again, everything swims for a second before slowly settling.
“I told you this wasn’t over,” she says, planting one hand on her hip, that same twisted smirk curling her lips.
“W-why are you doing t-this?” My voice comes out hoarse, unsteady.
She laughs, sharp and mocking. “Wow. They really did raise you stupid, didn’t they?”
“Loretta,” I say, forcing myself to stay focused. “Why am I here?”
“As in tied to a chair in my basement?” she replies sweetly.
I glare at her. “No. Why am I—”
“I know what you meant,” she cuts in, her tone turning cold. “I’m just enjoying this.”
My gaze flicks around the room, where I find it’s small, damp, and has concrete walls. A narrow staircase leads up to a closed door.
Nowhere to go.
“What do you want?”
“Are you really that fucking stupid?”