6. Karolina
KAROLINA
Twenty minutes later, we’re in his silver sports car, racing down a country lane.
Silence has stretched between us. It’s uncomfortable, so I start babbling to cut through the violent tension that’s rolling off him in waves.
“You’ve said you have the means to live comfortably, and you have a huge historic house in York.
I doubt this car is cheap. How can you afford that?
Did your parents leave you a trust fund that you were able to access when you reached a certain age?
You said you joined the underground fighting ring to survive when you left your foster home.
Why not set yourself up more comfortably back then? ”
His face goes carefully blank, but he offers me an honest answer. “My parents didn’t leave me with anything, much less money.”
My heart twists. I hear what he’s not saying: they didn’t offer him the love he deserved as a child.
I lost everything when my parents died, but at least I had a loving home with them before they passed. Losing that care and stability is a wound that will never fully heal, but I know what it is to be loved unconditionally.
“I earned my money when I was a fighter,” he admits. “It was lucrative.”
“You must be good,” I observe, watching him intently.
His stoic expression doesn’t betray a hint of emotion. “I am.”
For a moment, I hear the crunch of my stalker’s neck snapping. I see his lifeless eyes staring at me.
“Who was he?” I ask softly. “My stalker… He was a stranger to me. He spoke in Russian or something. Did you find any ID on him when you were…” I swallow hard. “Cleaning up?”
Rand’s eyes darken. He’s clearly remembering the threat to my life and the man who’s been terrorizing me for weeks.
“There wasn’t any ID. I don’t think you’ll ever know who he was. All that matters is he can’t hurt you now.”
My brow furrows. “But it doesn’t make sense. If he hated me for murdering Brandon, why would he kill Rich for flirting with me? He sent me those anonymous messages.” I think back to how different those possessive texts were from the violent threat in the note he left me.
The note was addressed to Karolina Taylor. My real name.
“I don’t understand,” I admit. “He seemed obsessed with me at first, but then he tried to kill me.”
“Nothing about what happened is right,” Rand rumbles in that low growl that makes him sound like Bones. “The man was clearly fixated on you. All that matters is he can never touch you again.”
“I have to tell you something,” I force myself to say. “He knew a big secret about me. It scared me more than any of his creepy texts. The man who threatened me in the café knew it too.”
“You can tell me anything.”
I eye him warily. “You lied to me about who you really are, but you don’t know who I am, either.”
How could my stalker have known? I bought my new identity five years ago from an unscrupulous man I found online.
He promised he was good at what he did, but then again, it’s not like I’m connected to his criminal underworld.
It was a miracle I found him on some dark corner of the internet in the first place.
Maybe he did a sloppy job covering my tracks.
I take a breath and brace myself to make my confession to Rand.
“My name isn’t Lena Williams. It’s Karolina Taylor. My stalker and the stranger in the café knew that somehow. The note my stalker left was addressed to my old name.”
Rand tenses.
“I know I lied to you, too,” I say quickly. “You didn’t tell me that you’re Bones, but I hid this from you. Everything I’ve told you about my past is true, but I omitted that part.”
He shakes his head. “You think I would hold that against you? I’m the one who’s been keeping secrets. You told me your name when we first met online. Maybe not your full name, but I’ve known the real you all along.”
A shiver races over me when I hear the ring of truth in his words.
I accused him of looking me up and digging into my life.
He did those things, but I revealed enough of myself to him that he was easily able to find Lena Williams online. Some part of me always wanted Bones to see me.
He’s the only person I’ve allowed a glimpse at my true self since Brandon died.
No. He didn’t just die.
I ended his life with my own hands.
His ruined face flashes across my mind, and I can’t suppress a flinch.
“Does that scare you?” Rand asks, strained.
He’s asking about the fact that he researched me on the UNC website.
But really, I know it’s not uncommon for people to be curious about their intimate partners. People look up their dates online all the time.
“It only scares me because I’ve been keeping this secret for so long,” I admit. “I’m scared for you to know the real me. Karolina Taylor isn’t a good person.”
His chin takes on that stern tilt that makes me melt. “You’re good down to your core. I’m the one who isn’t worthy, but I can’t help myself. I want you, Karolina. You’re all that matters to me. I’ve already told you I’m not a good man. You saw it for yourself when I handled your stalker.”
“That’s not true,” I counter. “You killed him to save me. If I’d been strong enough, I would’ve done it myself. You’re not the only one who’s killed to survive, remember?”
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he reassures me.
I squeeze his fingers. “You haven’t, either. If I’m not guilty for doing what it takes to survive, then you aren’t, either.”
He said the men he killed in the ring were criminals, but I can tell it bothers him that he took their lives.
We’re morally grey in the same way.
How can I judge him when we’re alike?
“I changed my name to run away from Karolina Taylor. I’ve been running from what I did for years, but I don’t think I’ll ever fully escape my foster home. Some part of me will always be haunted by what happened there.”
His thumb rubs my chilled knuckles. “The past can’t hurt you anymore. You’re with me now.”
I shudder as dark memories come flooding back. “It’s not just what I did to Carter and Brandon. The things that happened to me after I lost my parents…”
My throat closes, choking off my ability to speak.
“Breathe, Karolina.”
My name. My real name. He sees me like no one else.
I drag in a shaky breath.
“Good girl. Another.”
The praise bolsters me, and warmth blooms in my chest. It chases some of the chill away.
“Will you tell me about it?” he asks. “About your foster home.”
I stiffen.
“Keep breathing. That’s it.”
With his encouragement, I manage to stay grounded in the present with him.
“I’ve tried not to think about it for so long,” I say. “But everything that happened with my stalker has been stirring my worst memories. When he pushed me into the river, I thought…”
My throat closes again, but Rand draws in another deep breath. I mirror him.
“You said your parents drowned,” he recalls. “Being in caught in the river current would’ve been traumatic for anyone, but I understand why it was especially triggering for you.”
“It’s not just that. My foster mom…”
His fingers tighten around mine. “Tell me what she did to you.”
Goosebumps break out on my skin, as though my head is submerged in icy water again, Shirley’s fingernails digging into the back of my skull.
“She threatened to drown me as a punishment. I don’t think she would’ve actually killed me,” I add bitterly. “She was too intent on making me a star ballerina to lose out on the prestige. She was…strict.”
The fiery pain of her cane lashing me when I failed to perform perfectly is a phantom burn on the backs of my thighs.
That corporal correction was practically a blessing compared to what happened when I refused to dance for her. She knew how holding my head underwater would trigger my worst trauma.
“She was a psychopath,” Rand growls.
“Yes,” I agree. “All she cared about was fostering children she could mold into prodigies. She picked me because she thought my talent would reflect well on her.” I grimace. “I’ll never dance again.”
“You shouldn’t let her take that from you,” he murmurs, and I flinch.
“Never again,” I repeat, emphatic.
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but I can read the regret in his eyes. He hates that my passion was abused out of me.
Rand truly does care about me. He wants me to be happy and safe.
No one has wanted that for me in so long.
I want it, too.