17. Astrid
Chapter 17
Astrid
Bolton sat across from me at the table in the restaurant. The other tables were full of couples enjoying a late-night dinner on a beautiful summer night. When we got on the plane, Bolton didn’t tell me our destination, but the second we landed, I recognized Madrid. We had a summer home there we’d hardly ever used.
It’d been a rough couple of weeks, but there’d been a lot of improvements. I told Bolton if he ever struck me again, I would never try again. That he would only look into my soulless eyes until he decided to kill me. Those words seemed to wound him because he hadn’t shown a hint of anger around me.
I participated in conversations like I did in the past. Seemed invested rather than indifferent. Pretended to try…even though I was dead inside. He tried to be intimate with me a couple of times, but I told him I wasn’t ready. Instead of getting angry or forcing me, he accepted it without complaint.
It seemed like giving him just a little bit of myself was all he wanted.
I drank my sangria. “It’s good.”
He gave a nod in agreement, but his eyes remained focused on me. Intent and possessive, the way he used to be when our relationship first started, when I was the only thing that was ever on his mind.
But there was no amount of progress he could make to change the way I felt.
To change the fact that I hated him. I hated him for what he’d done to me, but I hated him more for what he’d done to Axel and his family. The way he’d destroyed the lives of innocent people to get his way.
A part of me hoped that Theo would come for me, but I knew that was just a dream. Once a few days turned into a week and he didn’t break down the front door, I knew he’d let me go. Not by choice, but because he had to.
Because Bolton was perfectly capable of killing an innocent child.
It hurt to be abandoned, but I knew it was the right decision.
The only decision.
The waitress brought our dishes then walked off.
We ate in silence, sometimes drinking our sangria between bites, exchanging looks across the table. Bolton stared at me constantly, wore his wedding ring the second I told him I would try again. He never took it off, not even when he worked out or showered. We slept in the same bed, but I always stuck to my side. If he spooned me from behind, I let it happen, but I never initiated affection.
“Do you still think about him?”
I stilled at the question because Bolton hadn’t mentioned Theo since we left. We’d started our new lives in Madrid, got swept up in the humidity and the culture. Bolton had always been a master of languages, so he spoke Spanish, French, and Italian. This place felt like home to him immediately.
I looked at him across the table.
He took a drink of his sangria as he waited for an answer.
“Sometimes, I guess.” All the time. Every morning when I first woke up. Throughout the day. When I lay there at night and tried to fall asleep. In my dreams. In the shower when I touched myself.
There was no anger in his look.
“Do you still think about Carson?” In case he was angry, I wanted to cancel out the rage and subtly remind him of his long-term relationship that he’d carried on behind my back when I was his wife.
“Not really. ”
It was a cruel answer. “I know she passed away.”
He gave a slight shrug. “I warned her it would be dangerous, but she wanted to stay.”
“It sounds like she loved you.” That woman was so in love with my husband that she was willing to die for him. That should make me angry, but I felt nothing. I pitied her for giving her heart to someone who couldn’t care less about her.
“She did,” he said simply. “But there was only one woman I ever loved.” He looked at me as he said it, as if he expected me to melt into a puddle on the floor because it was so damn romantic.
Instead of hitting back with a scathing retort, I let it go. I’d tried to escape from this man so many times to no avail. Even the infamous Skull King couldn’t save me. I was tired of running. Tired of trying to change an unchangeable circumstance. So, I accepted it. Accepted that I’d had a great love that had only lasted months—but would burn in my heart forever.
“My guys tell me he’s spending time with a woman named Laura.”
It was like trying not to laugh at the funniest joke you’d ever heard. Trying not to scream even when you were so scared you pissed your pants. To keep a straight face and pretend that meant nothing to me was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. Maybe she was just one of his favorite whores. Maybe he assumed I was already in bed with Bolton. Maybe he was trying to move on as quickly as he could so it would hurt less. Whatever the reason might be, it hurt. “I loved him, but he didn’t feel the same way.”
Bolton’s eyes locked on my face as he grappled with that piece of information.
“So, I can’t say that I’m surprised.”
“If I could go back in time, I would take it all back.” For a man who said and did horrible things, he could seem so genuine in his apologies. He seemed sincere and full of contrition. Maybe he really meant what he said, but he could still flip on you a moment later. “You wouldn’t have met him, and none of this would have happened.”
I kept the pot of water at a simmer instead of a boil by validating his words, accepting his apologies when he gave them, even though they were bald-faced lies. But it seemed to work. Seemed to sheathe his anger. “I know.” At some point, I would run out of time and would have to get on my back and consummate the marriage. That would be a lot harder than accepting his apologies and making small talk over dinner.
I wasn’t sure how I would do it.
We watched TV on the couch together, enjoying a bottle of wine as we snuggled close. His arm was around my shoulders, and I placed my hand on my thigh. Whenever this happened, I would think about Theo and the way we used to do this very same thing on his couch.
Now, I wondered if he was doing it with Laura.
When I got tired and started to fall asleep against his shoulder, he turned off the TV and scooped me into his arms. The house in Madrid was a two-story palace on several acres of land. It was behind an iron gate with its own pond with swans that would stop by for a visit. He carried me upstairs and set me on my side of the bed before he moved to his. He dropped his sweatpants and got into bed beside me before he tucked me in.
He’d never tucked me in before.
He came close to me, our heads on the same pillow, his warm flesh against mine.
“I love you, baby.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead before he grew still.
I kept my eyes closed and pretended to be asleep just to avoid the situation. I hadn’t said it back to him and he hadn’t pressured me to say it, but I knew that was inevitable too. There were only two options for me.
Confirm…or take my life.
I woke up in the middle of the night for no reason at all. Maybe it was a bad dream that disappeared so quickly I couldn’t recall it. Or maybe my body was just on alert, even when I was dead asleep.
I left the bedroom and headed downstairs. We had a large terrace out there, a firepit surrounded by couches, underneath the tall trees that were sprinkled across the property. Bolton still had his security with him, even though he’d retired from his career.
I turned on the gas and started the fire before I opened a bottle of wine. Instead of drinking out of a glass like a lady, I drank straight from the bottle, because fuck it, who gave a shit at this point?
I sat in front of the fire and drank alone…and cried.
Cried because Theo had replaced me so quickly. Chose to move on rather than mourn what we had. He’d left me to my fate and got back to his reality like there’d never been a disturbance. From an outside point of view, it would be easy to believe that my life hadn’t changed at all, that I’d never met Theo, that our lives had never crossed.
A part of me wished I never had. I’d worshipped that man the moment he was mine, gave him my heart even though he never gave me his. And now, he was with someone else, forgetting about me with every thrust between her legs.
It was awkward to drink and cry at the same time, but I made it work.
Then I heard the sound of the door behind me. It was quiet, almost unnoticeable, but it was distinctive in the silence.
My back was to him, so I had the opportunity to suck in a deep breath and steady my tears, soothe my lungs, and quiet my heart. I quickly wiped away the tears with my forearms and prayed that the darkness would hide the evidence.
He came out in just his sweatpants and slippers. The fire cast shadows over the lines between his muscles. He was much leaner than Theo but had always been ripped like a soccer player. He was a handsome man in his own right, and before I’d met Theo, I’d thought he was the best-looking man I’d ever seen.
But things changed.
He sat in the center of the other couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He stared at the fire for a while.
I could tell something was amiss. He would have sat beside me if everything was okay between us. He would look at me. Talk to me. But he continued to stare at the fire like I wasn’t even there.
I drank from the bottle to swallow the tears.
“You still love him.” He spoke with resignation, with defeat.
“Love doesn’t just die, Bolton. I wouldn’t be here right now if that were the case.” I made that up on the spot, the booze giving me more courage than I would have had otherwise. “You should have seen how many times I cried over you, when I slept alone and wondered if you slept alone too.”
“But you said you would try.” He finally looked at me head on.
“I am trying, Bolton. When a building falls in an earthquake, it takes time to rebuild?—”
“Or you were just bullshitting me. And now that you know he’s fucking around, you wish I’d just shot him.”
The adrenaline was like a haze over my eyes. I felt like I was running even when I was stuck in place. The panic was beneath my skin, but the paleness was probably visible in my cheeks. The blush from the wine wouldn’t be strong enough to hide it. “I wasn’t bullshitting you?—”
“Really?” He raised his voice, looking at me like an enemy for the first time since we’d come here. “Because I’m upstairs sleeping alone with a dry dick, while you’re down here crying over another guy.”
I knew we’d crossed the line I’d tried so hard not to cross. I’d pressed an invisible button, and his rage was provoked. Whenever Bolton got to this level, it was hard for him to come down again. When an ice cube melted, it couldn’t just be put back together like it’d never melted in the first place. “As I said before, love doesn’t just?—”
“He doesn’t love you!” Now Bolton was on his feet, rising above the flames like the devil. “He’s balls deep in pussy every night, while I’m here working my ass off for a morsel of your attention.” He stepped toward me.
I left the wine bottle on the couch, its contents spilling onto the cushion, and I backed up.
“I love you. I fucking love you . And you’re backing away from me like I’m some kind of monster.”
Because that’s exactly what you are. “I’m backing away because I’m scared?—”
“We’re going to go upstairs, and we’re going to fuck. It’s been weeks, and I’ve barely gotten a kiss from you?—”
“I said I’m not ready?—”
“But if lover boy walked in here, you would be.” He grabbed the end table and threw it across the terrace. It hit one of the umbrellas and made a loud ding as it struck metal. “So let’s go.” He grabbed me by the arm and yanked me toward the door. “Time to get back on the horse?—”
A loud explosion shattered the silence of the night. Flames twenty feet high came from the gate across the lawn. I dropped to the ground on instinct and hit the pavement, losing my balance from the bottle of wine I’d enjoyed on my own.
“What the fuck?” Bolton got back to his feet and looked directly at the fire. Gunshots went off in the distance, automatic rifles pushing out all the rounds.
I stayed on the ground because I didn’t know what else to do.
Another explosion hit, coming from a different direction.
Bolton headed to the back entrance. “Get inside, Astrid!” He left the door open as he ran into the house to retrieve his guns.
I rose to my feet and looked at the lights of all the cars that were driving onto the property. At least twelve of them. This attack could be from one of Bolton’s disgruntled clients or…
It could be Theo.
My heart nearly sprouted wings and sang like a songbird. I wanted to run directly to the lights, but I didn’t know exactly what I was running to. But if Bolton lived, then my escape wouldn’t matter.
Because he would never stop hunting me.
I turned to the door and ran inside. “What’s happening, Bolton?” I moved into the study and found his guns piled on the desk. He had a bulletproof vest across his chest. “I’m scared. Tell me what’s going on.”
He spoke into his radio. “Use the flamethrowers to melt the tires.”
“What the fuck is going on?”
Bolton turned to me. “I’m going to put you in the safe room until this is over. Come on.” He stuck a pistol into the back of his jeans and let his rifle hang across his chest by the strap. He grabbed my hand and dragged me into the hallway then removed a plank in the floor. Underneath was a vault with a keypad in the center. He had to use his thumbprint to activate it first.
My eyes went to the gun at the back of his jeans. It was within reach. “What about you?”
“I’ve got to finish this.” He entered one code then moved on to the next, like it was a series.
“Who is it? What if something happens to you?” He might want to put me in the safe room because he was genuinely concerned about my well-being. Or perhaps he knew Theo had come, and he wanted to make sure he couldn’t get to me. Even if Theo won the war, if he didn’t find me in the house, he might assume I was dead or somewhere else.
Bolton ignored me, concentrating on the vault.
I’d never been so scared in my life, felt my hands grow clammy and sweaty even though I hadn’t even tried anything yet, but I took my shot and snatched the gun.
He was fast, far faster than I thought was humanly possible, and he tried to wrestle the gun out of my hand.
I squeezed the trigger even when I wasn’t sure where the gun was pointing, whether at him or me, or the floor or the ceiling.
But then he released the gun and dropped to the floor.
I covered my face and immediately looked away. The gun dropped to the floor with a thud. I turned against the wall and slid to the floor, sobbing at the sight that would be forever seared into my mind. When my ass hit the floor, I threw up on the rug then lay on top of it, breathing so hard I began to hyperventilate. My panic was a combination of tears and screams, the gunshots and explosions shaking the walls around me.
I couldn’t get up.
I couldn’t move.
I closed my eyes…and waited for someone to get me.