Chapter 4
Adora
Drinking water again should have made me feel stronger. It didn't. Every glass he brings me sits heavy in my stomach, a cruel reminder that I gave him exactly what he wanted.
How much time has it passed since I've been here?
I pull the rough fabric of the blanket closer to me. It's cold enough in this forsaken place for me to feel it constantly, but not enough to kill me. The tremors in my hands have eased, but they're not gone.
I'm not gone, at least not yet, but Ghost is making sure that will change.
I feel the weight of his presence even before he opens the door. I swallow. Don't acknowledge him, Adora, don't give him too much.
"Thirsty?" he asks.
I lift my head just enough to glare at him.
"Why? Are you offering your blood?"
His lips curl, dark amusement flickering in his eyes.
"I can give you something that tastes better."
Fucking jackass.
I exhale, pressing my fingers against my temples. I'm not at my worst anymore, but I'm not myself either. Not even close.
He crouches in front of me, his forearms casually resting on his knees, completely comfortable and in control. Fuck, I should be able to stand up to him more than this. I should be able to at least rattle him a little.
"What are you doing here, Ghost?" I sigh. "I can't just disappear. People will look for me."
He almost smiles.
"What people, Adora? Your junkie father? Your vile mother?" I flinch. He knows exactly where to strike. "Or maybe your ex-husband?" His eyes flash. "Maybe Liz? But Liz is all the way in Italy, isn't she? And you haven't talked to her in almost a year."
His voice sharpens. "Your substitute teacher contract just ended. You have no friends. No one. You're all alone, adorable.”
He goes quiet for a moment.
“Do you want to see Liz?” That tone is too soft to mean anything good.
I can’t stop the tremble in my voice. “What do you mean?”
He shifts and pulls his phone out, taps the screen a few times and turns it to me. Dread bites into my bones like a rabid animal. There are photos of Liz. So many of them.
I lift a shaky finger but stop myself before touching the screen.
“Go on,” he says, his voice impossibly gentle. “There are more. You can look.”
I start scrolling. Swiping. Tears blur my vision.
Liz having coffee. Liz in one of her classes, taking notes. Liz laughing with another girl. Liz having lunch. Talking to a boy at a party.
Liz sleeping.
I start shaking. I jolt backward and glue my back to the damp dungeon wall. My eyes snap to his face. My vision is still blurry from the tears, but I can see the way he’s looking at me — almost with pity.
“You… you said you wouldn’t hurt her,” I whisper, my voice a trembling mess. “You said so.”
His brows furrow. “Did I?” He tilts his head, still watching me. “I remember saying I wouldn’t let your father get to her.”
My heart keeps pounding. Fast. Fast. Faster. Am I having a heart attack? Is this what he wants?
“Please don’t hurt her. Please,” I hear myself pleading. The words come out broken, through short gasps. I can’t breathe anymore.
“Why would I hurt her?” His voice sounds almost tender. Merciful.
But he’s lying. I know he is. He has to be.
I try to breathe. To beg him. To throw myself at his feet. But I can’t. My gasps become shorter and shorter. The corners of my vision start to darken. I’m heading into a full-blown panic attack.
“K—kill me. Not—not her,” I stutter. I don’t know if he can hear me. I can only feel my lips moving, but my ears are now pounding.
I want to scream, but I can’t. My throat is all closed up.
He doesn’t speak again. Just keeps watching me. Head tilted. Face expressionless. He’s making a decision, and it feels like it’s taking him forever.
Even through my haze, I see the moment his jaw ticks. His eyes narrow — just a fraction. Then he lets the phone clatter to the ground and moves toward me.
Before I know it, he’s sitting on the beat-up mattress and pulling me into his arms. I can barely feel his touch. My skin is buzzing.
He rests his chin on top of my head and gives me a light squeeze. It doesn’t do much to stop my shaking.
I want to throw myself out of his arms. Hit him. Do something. But I’m paralyzed with fear. And somehow, the rhythmic beating of his heart feels soothing. Just like it did all those years ago.
“Shhh,” he whispers. “Calm down. I won’t hurt Liz.”
“You—you’re lying,” I sob.
He gives me another squeeze and moves his hand up and down my arm. Almost comforting.
“I’m not. Why would I hurt Liz? I used to play catch with her at the park. Remember?”
“The photos,” I breathe. “There’s so many. You wouldn’t have them if you weren’t planning something.”
“I’m just keeping an eye on her. Make sure she’s safe. After all, she’s all alone and far from home,” he says. “She needs someone to watch out for her, doesn’t she?”
That’s messed up. Isn’t it? Shouldn’t it be?
I try to push away from him, but he tightens his arms around me.
“You had a photo of her sleeping,” I accuse, my voice finally losing its trembling.
He chuckles lightly. Like I said something stupid. Irrational. “She went to a house party. Fell asleep there. That wasn’t very smart of her. My guy just kept an eye on her and gave me an update.”
That sounds logical. I hate that it sounds logical. It’s making me even more confused.
He moves a little and reaches for his phone again. Then he turns it toward me.
I almost close my eyes. I don’t know if I can look at those photos again.
“See?” he murmurs, his breath fanning my hair. “It’s not her room.”
I look more closely at the photo, and… he’s right. There’s pictures on the walls of some girl and her family. Somehow, I feel relieved, stupid, and enraged all at the same time. Cheated, in a way.
“I only thought you’d like to see your sister,” he says, voice like silk. “I didn’t think you’d overreact like this.”
I want to call him out. I want to scream in his face that this is exactly what he wanted.
But I don’t. Because I don’t trust myself. I don’t understand what he’s doing anymore.
The adrenaline leaves my body in a rush, and I sag against him. It feels good. And for some fucked up reason, it feels safe.
For just one moment. One moment before I remember where the fuck I am — and the monster I’m dealing with.
I push at his chest — harder this time — and crawl out of his arms. I feel my strength coming back to me.
“This was a sick game. Why would you want to keep Liz safe? She’s no one to you,” I say, my voice stronger than before.
He moves away from the mattress and crouches next to me, looking intently at my face.
“I’m honestly hurt that you’d think that. I was very attached to Liz. Of course I’d want her safe.”
I narrow my eyes.
He sighs softly before speaking again.
“What happened is your fault only, adorable. Liz is innocent. She was like a little sister to me.”
A corner of his mouth lifts, and he taps a finger gently to my forehead. “I could never hurt her. Your mind is playing tricks on you. As always.”
His words hit like a knife to the heart. Is he right?
I hate that the thought of him watching over Liz brings me more comfort than horror. That’s not right.
I don’t understand what’s happening to me. I need to fight this. I need to be stronger than this.
He straightens slowly and starts walking away. “Get some rest. You clearly need it.”
As soon as the door closes, my heart stutters. He left his phone behind! I’m almost afraid to believe it's real.
With trembling hands, I snatch it up. Without a second thought, I dial 911. It rings once. Twice.
“What’s your emergency, adorable?” His voice, laced with amusement and dark as sin, sends chills through me.
“What the fuck!” I scream, despair stabbing straight through me.
He chuckles, and it’s fucking sinister. The door unlocks, and he steps back in, holding another phone to his ear.
I shoot to my feet and hurl my own phone at him, rage blazing hot. I miss — by a long shot. It shatters against the wall, pieces flying through the air, scattering across the floor.
Ghost
She still thinks she can fight me. Find a way out of this.
But she doesn't get it. She doesn't get it at all.
I spent years rotting in that cell, waiting for this moment, waiting to break her the way she broke me. Years of planning. I've taken every precaution.
But now, looking at her — weak, trembling, staring at me with those hazel eyes that used to fucking ruin me — all I feel is a slow, terrifying need to bring her comfort. And choke the life out of her at the same time.
"Really, adorable? You think I’d be that careless with my phone?" I ask, watching the way her throat bobs, the flare of her nostrils, the fire in her eyes.
She’s beautiful. She always fucking was.
"I thought you were smarter than that," I murmur.
Her gaze narrows. "You’re an arrogant piece of shit," she bites back.
I should laugh. I should drag her out of this cell and remind her exactly who the fuck she's dealing with.
Instead, I step forward and reach for her. I don't even fucking think about it. I just run my fingers along the edge of her jaw, tracing the soft skin.
She flinches slightly.
I pull back before I do something fucking stupid, like let her destroy me all over again.
She's unravelling. Slower than I thought, but it's happening. I'm going to make sure she shatters in the end. But first, I need to figure out what the fuck is happening inside my head. The only dangerous thing right now would be giving her any kind of power.
Adora
He's back. He always comes back. Never stays away for long.
His presence presses against my chest, dark and oppressive. He's taken everything from me in such a short time. I'm falling. I'm craving…
"Something wrong?" he asks calmly, tilting his head like he knows something I don't.
I let out a slow, shuddering breath. "What do you want now, Ghost?"
His expression doesn't change. "Say my name. My real name."
My pulse stumbles. No. He's dead. This whole dungeon ordeal proves it. Only the monster remains now. Ghost. Not Dominic.
It has to be this way. I can't remember Dominic. Not now, while I'm in the monster's claws.
The name sits at the back of my throat, heavy and aching, like something old and rotting.
I refuse!
His smirk deepens. "Say it."
I shake my head. "That man is dead."
His gaze darkens, danger flickering across his expression.
His tone changes to something softer. Colder. "You killed him, didn't you?"
I clench my jaw. "Yes."
He doesn't even blink. Doesn’t react at all. But something passes through his eyes. It's something I don't want to see. For a split second, just a split second, I think maybe he hates himself for what he's putting us through.
Then he smiles and brushes his knuckles against my cheek in a mockery of comfort. A memory from so long ago.
"Say my name, Adora." It’s a whisper. Soft as a blade drawn slowly across skin.
I'm losing myself.
"You said never to use it again. All while trying to drown me. Or did you forget?"
His smile doesn't break but his eyes narrow, something predatory surfacing behind them.
He leans in, watching me struggle under the weight of his shadow.
"You don't get to erase me," he murmurs.
I let my gaze go cold.
"I already did. The man that you were no longer exists."
The softness vanishes.
He grips my hair hard and pulls — sudden, no warning — yanking my head back until my throat is bared to him like an offering. His other hand curls around my neck, controlled and unhurried. My pulse reacts instantly, spiking fast beneath his fingers.
Ghost
She is still fighting. Even now. Even after everything.
She still has teeth, claws, a razor-sharp tongue that could cut deeper than any knife.
I fucking hate it.
She should've been broken by now. She should've been begging at my feet.
Instead, she's staring at me like she still has any power left.
And fuck, maybe she does. Fuck!
I lean closer to her, brushing my nose along the column of her throat. I feel the heat of her skin, the softness that used to drive me fucking insane. My lips touch her jaw and suddenly, I wish for more.
My head turns, and before I can stop myself, my lips graze hers.
Her breath catches, but she doesn’t say anything.
I let go of her throat, and my fingers drift downward — slow, deliberate.
Over the curve of her neck. Lower. I trace the edge of her breast with a touch so gentle it’s barely there.
Still… she doesn’t move. Doesn’t stop me.
I force myself to let go of her and step back. This woman will fucking ruin me. Again.
I turn, heading for the door, but stop just before stepping out.
"Adora," I look at her. "You can call me Dominic whenever you want. I give you permission to use my real name."
Hell, I hope she uses it.