Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Gabbi
The door clicked softly as I eased it open, the pin still gripped between my fingers. The lock had been rusted, stubborn, but I had learned how to handle worse. The hinges groaned faintly, and I held my breath, waiting. Nothing. No footsteps rushing toward me. No voices shouting an alarm.
I slipped inside, pressing the door shut behind me, my pulse pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears.
The cabin was dim, the weak glow from the lantern barely reaching the corners.
I didn’t waste time. My steps were slow but deliberate as I crossed the small space, my knees hitting the rough wooden floor as I knelt beside him.
"Liam."
He didn’t move.
I let out a breath, quiet, steady. "Liam, it’s me."
Nothing. No flinch, no reaction, no flicker of recognition. Just the slow, measured rise and fall of his chest, the steady, detached way he sat with his arms draped over his knees, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond me.
I leaned in closer. "Look at me."
A beat passed. Then another.
Finally, slowly, painfully, he lifted his head.
My chest tightened. His eyes, once so full of life, so bright, were dark and empty now, shadows of the boy I had known. His gaze flickered over my face, unfocused at first, as if he wasn’t sure if I was real. My throat burned, but I swallowed it down. This wasn’t the time to break.
His voice, when it came, was rough, hoarse from disuse. "Who are you?"
I exhaled sharply, my fingers curling into my palms. "It’s me," I whispered. "Gabbi."
His brows knit together, faint confusion flashing in his tired eyes. He blinked once, twice. Then, just as quickly, the flicker of recognition vanished. "Gabbi’s dead."
The words hit like a punch to the gut. I sucked in a sharp breath, blinking against the sting in my eyes. "No," I said firmly, shaking my head. "I’m here. I’m real."
He stared at me, searching my face like he was waiting for me to disappear, like I was just another ghost in his mind.
My voice softened. "Liam, I came back for you."
He let out a slow, uneven breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Why now?" His voice was barely above a whisper.
Guilt twisted in my chest, thick and suffocating. Why now? Why not six years ago? Why not before he had been turned into this—this quiet, broken version of himself?
"Because I finally found you," I said, the words heavy on my tongue. "And I swear, I’m going to get you out."
He let out a soft, breathless laugh, bitter and hollow. "No one gets out."
I reached for his hand before I could stop myself. His fingers were thin, bony, his skin too cold. I squeezed gently, grounding both of us. "You will. I promise."
He didn’t pull away. But he didn’t hold on either.
His gaze dropped to my hand over his, his brows drawing together. "Victor will kill you."
I stiffened, but I didn’t let go. "Let me worry about Victor."
His jaw tensed, something flickering in his expression. For the first time since I had walked into this cabin, I saw something that looked like the old Liam—stubborn, protective, afraid for someone other than himself.
"I know you don’t believe me," I said carefully. "I know it’s hard to trust anything right now. But Liam, you have to hold on. Just a little longer."
His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers twitching beneath mine. His gaze flickered toward the door, as if expecting someone to barge in at any second.
"You shouldn’t be here," he muttered.
I tightened my grip. "I had to be. I had to see you. I had to tell you that you’re not alone."
His breath hitched slightly, his shoulders rising and falling unevenly.
"I know they’ve tried to break you," I whispered. "I know they’ve made you think that this is your life now, that there’s no way out. But there is, Liam. We’re getting you out. Bobby’s here too."
His entire body went still.
The silence stretched thick between us, pressing against my ribs. Then, barely above a whisper, barely even a sound at all—"Bobby?"
My heart clenched.
I nodded, my voice just as soft. "Yeah. He’s coming. We both are."
Liam’s lips parted slightly, his fingers tightening just a fraction around mine. His breath trembled. For the first time, there was something behind his eyes—a flicker, a crack in the numbness, a whisper of something that might have been hope.
He didn’t say anything. He just nodded. Once. Just once. But it was enough.
A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down. My free hand lifted, trembling slightly as I brushed his tangled hair from his forehead. He didn’t pull away.
I leaned in, pressing a kiss there, barely more than a breath against his skin. "Hold on a little longer."
He exhaled, slow and shaky, closing his eyes.
I squeezed his hand one last time, then let go.
And then, without another word, I slipped back into the shadows, leaving a part of myself behind.