Chapter 22
The harsh slam of the door knocker startles me as I’m straining the pasta, my sudden rigidity sending the hot water splashing.
Luckily, only a few small droplets land on my sweater.
I consider not answering for a moment, but this isn’t the kind of place someone would just stumble on; it must be someone Hawthorne knows, and I don’t want to be rude or miss something important.
Checking the security camera, I find Jayden standing outside.
He must have just missed Hawthorne. Swinging the door open, I’m taken aback by the dark bags under his eyes and unkempt hair that are a sloppy contrast to his typical, carefully curated disheveled look.
He stumbles over the entryway, his hand coming up to grip the doorframe.
I can’t miss the dirt under his nails. It also clings to his pants and shoes.
He walks right past me, not even bothering to stomp off the excess debris on the welcome mat. Rude as fuck, but okay.
“Is everything okay?”
“Where’s Hawthorne?” he asks, eyes flying around the room.
“He left to go check on you. You must have just missed him.”
“Can I wait here until he gets back? I need to talk to him.” He fidgets with his bracelets, avoiding making eye contact.
“Yes…yes, of course. I was just making us dinner, actually. Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Okay. Why don’t you go wait in the living room, then?”
Eager to escape his restless energy, I go back into the kitchen. Once I can think more clearly, I debate what I should do. He seems off, but this is a rare opportunity for us to speak alone, probably the only one I’ll get for a bit.
Bringing a glass of water for both of us, I force myself to do the mature thing and take this chance to try to repair things for Thorne’s sake. Setting them on the coffee table, I take a seat on the couch across from him.
“Look, I know that you’re not thrilled that I’m back. I understand that you and Hawthorne have your own relationship, and I would never dream of getting in between that. I want him to be happy, so—”
“You want him to be happy?” Jayden says with thick doubt in his voice.
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” I’m genuinely taken aback by the question.
“Your track record would prove differently.” He takes a drink of his water.
“I know that my leaving hurt him, but I did it to protect him. I’m not sure how much Hawthorne has told you, but his life was—is—in real danger.”
“Right, because of you.” He leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “You forget that I was there that night. I also watched him fight for his life. I watched you make a choice for him that altered everything.”
“You think I had a choice? I did what I had to in order to save his life. He might have come back differently, but he wasn’t coming back at all otherwise. You’d think you’d be a bit more grateful, especially considering you only know part of what happened that night.”
“Grateful? If it wasn’t for you, we would have had a shot at making things work. But no, the moment you stepped into his world, it started revolving around you, and I was pushed out of his orbit little by little.”
“You’re his best friend in the world, Jayden. I hardly call that pushed out.”
“God, and you were always this mouthy and opinionated, weren’t you?”
He might as well have thrown that glass of water in my face. We may have had a few contentious moments in the past, but nothing so blunt or outright disdainful. We were even friendly for many years, but at this point, I don’t know how we could ever get back to that.
“What the hell is going on with you?”
Jayden stands and steps around the coffee table. He towers over me, his posture intimidating, but I try to remain calm.
“You. You’re what’s wrong with me, Solaneen.
” Spit lands on my cheeks, and I have to suppress the urge to express my disgust; it’s the least of my worries.
“It would all just be so much easier if you’d never come back.
My life—our lives—would be so much better if you weren’t in the picture.
” He crowds me, my knees hitting the back of the couch.
His chest heaves, and as he tilts his head down to meet my gaze, his eyes have rolled back in his head, the whites exposed. I’m not dealing with Jayden anymore.
“Wh—whoever you are, you need to leave.”
“I will. But first, I need to do what I came for.”
“Now,” I insist—attempting to sound more confident than I feel—and press my trembling hand against Jayden’s chest to give myself enough space to slip past him when the opportunity presents itself.
“It won’t take long.” Jayden leans down to reach for something, and I see my chance. As he twists to his right, I take off to his left. “Motherfucker,” he mumbles under his breath. Within seconds, he’s in pursuit of me.
The house is big with a lot of options for hiding, but we both know it like the back of our hands.
Whoever’s inside Jayden will use that information to their advantage.
The forest, though, there I have an advantage, so I race out the back door, turning the table over behind me in a pathetic effort to slow him down.
Despite nearly twisting my ankle taking the stairs at breakneck speed, I don’t stop, barely daring to glance over my shoulder as I head for the tree line.
“There’s no point in running,” he growls as he closes the distance between us. You wouldn’t know his soccer days were long in his past, the way he effortlessly pursues me.
Weaving in and out of trees, I attempt to lose him or at least confuse him, so he has to slow down to get his bearings.
Each breath rakes through my chest, but I don’t stop.
If I can just get a bit deeper before he catches up to me, it’ll give me a better chance of hiding.
Risking a glance over my shoulder, the sherbet glow of the setting sun makes it difficult to see, but between squinted eyes, I catch the gleam of a knife’s edge. Fuck.
That premonition of me stumbling down the stairs comes to mind. Is it possible I missed a bleeding wound? My heart is hammering, my side cramping, a painful reminder of just how vulnerable I am. Regardless of whether it’s inevitable, I don’t intend to make it easy for him to catch me.
The forest grows denser around us, evident by the constant thwack of greenery whipping against our arms and legs as we sprint recklessly.
One minute I’m on my feet, and the next, the ground is racing up to meet me.
Landing face first in the dirt, the impact knocks the wind out of me, forcing me to take a gulping breath and sucking in debris that I choke out noisily.
I have about five seconds before Jayden tramples me.
Crawling behind a large redwood, I cover my mouth and nose with my sleeve, trying to dull my heavy breathing.
The sun has set now, and while that should be an advantage, if Jayden is possessed, which I’m nearly positive of, he’ll have much better sight than I do.
My best bet is to remain as still as possible until he hopefully moves on.
“Solaneen,” his whisper is a mocking roar.
“Where are you, Little Dove?” He sighs with disappointment.
“It’s an unfortunate inconvenience that he’s found a way to keep me at bay.
I can’t sense you like I usually would. I had to get creative.
But it’s just that, an inconvenience. It’s not going to stop me.
Borrowing this body even has its perks.”
Tears spring from my eyes at the familiar nickname. The situation I’ve found myself in is even worse than I thought.
“Come to me and make this easier on both of us. You’re so passionate about having a choice, I’m giving you one. Come out and I’ll make it quick. You won’t even have time to process the pain. If you keep hiding from me, Solaneen, I will make a show of claiming you as mine.”
My limbs lock, keeping me tucked behind this tree, gripping its bark, begging it to keep me safe, while adrenaline pulses through me, urging me to run, to put my faith in myself. In my wavering indecision, my weight shifts, and a stick snaps beneath my foot.
I dart in the other direction, but he’s on me quickly, long fingers tangling in my loose hair. I bounce back against his chest with force. He brings the knife in front of me, holding it horizontally and tilting it so it catches the moonlight, allowing our eyes to meet in the threatening metal.
“A deal is a deal, Little Dove. And you would rob me of that? You would go back on your word?” He tsks. “When we first met, I was drawn to your candor, but you’ve been corrupted by your desires. You’ve become lustful and greedy. It’s such a shame, really.”
“Fuck you.”
“And that mouth. We’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?
Maybe you’ll even enjoy it. We both know how much you seem to love being on your knees.
” His smile is leering. “Quite the whore you’ve become, haven’t you?
” His words are flies landing on my skin, leaving me feeling violated and dirty just by their presence.
Unable to stomach any more, I elbow him in the side and take great satisfaction in hearing the air whooshing out of him in a pained grunt. The second his fingers release my sweaty, tangled waves, I push off him and bolt.
It’s not enough, though. I only make it a few steps before he tackles me to the ground. Jayden might be slender, but he’s strong and familiar with taking a hit without letting it bring him down.
“Get off me,” I plead.
“You’ve made your choice. I didn’t want to have to do it this way, but you leave me no other options.”
Ivan raises the knife, intent on ending my life by force, using Jayden’s body.
He couldn’t have planned it better to establish maximum impact on both Hawthorne and me.
But there was no planning. He never could have known that Thorne would bring me back here, that he and Jayden would still be so close—relationships fail, I left him, people grow apart all the time.
No, this is something far greater than him or me.
It’s fate.
Not that golden hand of the future that Hawthorne believes it to be, where he and I are destined, and we just have to work out because. No. I know better.
At least, I should have. But I drowned out that voice so many times because I wanted to hope. So foolish, so juvenile of me. Always that little girl who can’t help but wish that she might have what others do…
A happy family, where people aren’t maiming each other, only stopping when the last shred of their self-control strums with a hint of remorse.
A charmed life, with friends and plans and a future that I can picture beyond just the distant hope that maybe someday I can be free.
To be easily liked, to fit in, to be digestible, instead of someone that people have to make concessions for, that people have to handle with care.
But no…that was all just a fantasy, one I allowed myself to get lulled into again, and again, and again.
Fate is a bloody hand that wields a sword with cruel precision for those it deems deserving of suffering by whatever arbitrary measure.
It’s fitting that we find ourselves out here once again, a place that I’ve loved all my life, but also a place where he took things that I wish I had never given. It’s a pattern with him, taking what I’m not willing to yield until I can’t seem to find a way to say no—the compromise of a lifetime.
“Ivan, don’t do this,” I beg as I grip his wrists and use every ounce of strength I have to push his hovering arms away from me.
Kicking is useless. He has me pinned. All I have is appealing to his desire to claim me.
“If you take me like this, I’ll make your afterlife miserable.
I will never submit to you the way you truly want. The way that would fulfill you.”
“I guess I’ll take what I can get.” He leans into it, applying more pressure.
And I’m losing steam, shaking—not just from the cold but from bone-deep fear that the death that I’ve long expected is finally closing its grasp around my throat.
“The problem is, Solaneen, you always thought you were so much more special than is warranted. You are unique, I’ll give you that, but—”
Movement to the left catches both our attention.
Ivan’s just distracted enough for me to gain a little ground in holding him at bay.
Really, it’s just prolonging the end, but I’ll be grateful for what moments I can get, breathing in the brisk air—forest and musk and wood filling my lungs, reminding me that I’m home and that’s a silver lining at the very least.
It was never the dying I was afraid of. It was the possibility of doing it somewhere else.
Away from him. I might be a prisoner in the place that I once called a sanctuary, but knowing what I know, it’s a small consolation that we’re never really gone, that there’s still a chance I’ll be able to see him, know he’s okay, love him from a distance, maybe.
Who knows what Ivan has planned for me, but at least there’s that.
In these few seconds I’ve had to distance myself from the knife above me, I’ve found some sliver of peace, come to terms with my death, as much as one can.
When I look up at Ivan again and our eyes meet, I see the angel of death waiting over his shoulder, and he’s gloriously familiar, the solace of deep brown eyes and curls, and…
Everything happens so fast.
Hawthorne’s arm hooks around Jayden’s throat and yanks him backward.
Ivan’s disgruntled cursing.
A flash of silver arching down and back through the air.
Hawthorne’s groan of pain.
Thrashing struggle.
Then, heavy breathing comes from a single set of lungs, lingering in the darkness just beyond my sight.
A figure emerges, knife clutched in hand.
I sit up, scramble back, and run into a fallen tree that halts my escape.
Then three little words come from a voice like warm tea.
“Are you okay?” The knife falls from his hand as he clutches his side and stumbles forward.
“Yes,” I breathe out as I stare up at Hawthorne, whose side is soaked in blood. “Are you?”
“I don’t know.”