29. Less
Less
The second the secret door swings open, I don't think.
I move.
Pure instinct.
Pure terror.
Pure fucking desperation.
I vault through the opening and hit the narrow staircase at a dead run.
The air smells stale.
Dust.
Rot.
Old stone.
Cobwebs cling to my face and shoulders as I charge upward.
Broken steps groan beneath my boots.
Somewhere behind me, I hear shouting.
“Less!”
Noel.
“Slow the fuck down!”
Ego.
“Visibility isn't good!” Kai yells.
I ignore them all.
“Less, we don't know what this is or where it goes!” Noel shouts again, trying for reason.
Reason.
Right.
That's funny.
Because reason packed its bags and left the second I saw Amanda's empty dressing room.
I'm beyond reason.
Beyond fear.
Beyond sanity.
All that's left is her.
My Rusty.
My heart.
My future.
My everything.
The flashlight beam jumps wildly as I fly around another bend.
The stairs keep climbing.
Leading somewhere.
Leading to her.
They have to.
Please, God.
Let them lead to her.
My lungs burn.
My knees ache.
I don't even feel it.
Because somewhere above me is the woman who taught me how to laugh again.
The woman who forgave me.
The woman who gave me a second chance I sure as hell didn't deserve.
The woman whose smile makes me weak.
Whose singing fills my home.
Whose ridiculous inability to make Jell-O somehow became one of my favorite things in the world.
Amanda.
Christ.
I love her so much it physically hurts.
Three years ago, I walked away.
Three years ago, I convinced myself I was protecting her.
Three years ago, I almost destroyed the best thing I'd ever had.
Not again.
Never again.
Not while there's still breath in my body.
“LESS!”
Noel's voice echoes behind me.
“Wait for backup!”
I bark out a sound that’s half laugh half scream.
Wild.
Broken.
Because he doesn't understand.
No one understands.
Not really.
Somewhere these stairs are leading to my woman.
To my whole fucking heart.
And I'm getting her back.
I don't care what happens.
I don't care what it costs.
I don't care if I die doing it.
Because if Amanda Perkins is scared—if she's hurt and wondering why I haven't come—then I need her to know something.
I kept my promise.
I came.
And God help the son of a bitch who touched her.
Because I'm coming for them too.
And today, I don’t do mercy.