Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE | PRESTON
Something ugly snakes through my ribs, seeping through my pores to lie heavy on my skin.
I shouldn’t be judging another man for having dead eyes, but there’s something about tonight that has me on edge. Brett had to knock out Cathal, but Lex beat Rowan enough that his decayed heart stopped beating thirty minutes after Vincent and Nolan intercepted them.
By that time, I had had enough.
I pushed away from the monitors and stormed out of the room, my hands itching to wash off the unknown feeling from my body and send it down a drain that I’m sure is as black and disgusting as my soul.
Everything has felt off tonight. I’m not sure why.
It’s been nearly twenty-four hours since I’ve seen Kate.
Is this what it feels like to have an obsession?
To be so utterly consumed by someone that the withdrawals attack your insides like an illness destined to destroy you. It could be in the best way or the worst way, but it doesn’t fucking matter because without it, you could be just as miserable.
I blow through the front doors of the estate, letting that thought simmer. The cool rush of the air conditioning washes over me, useless against the heat that envelops my body with every move I make.
In this life, Kate will constantly be a target.
Be in danger.
But she is out there anyway.
Losing her or letting her go would be just as excruciating.
Is fighting to hold onto something beautiful, even if it's fleeting in this lifetime, better than regretting never having tried to begin with?
After one night of having Kate in my bed, I want her to keep infesting it with her warmth. I want her sugared scent to permanently intertwine with the particles in the air. I want it to fill my lungs constantly.
Driving me fucking crazy.
Her sentence is almost over, and I wonder if a part of her is dreading the approaching deadline. The only way to know what’s going on in that beautiful head is to ask her to stay.
Turning the corner, I march down the hallway to her bedroom. I need a shower, but not after quelling these rampant thoughts causing a ruckus in my head. She’s probably asleep, since it’s almost one-thirty in the morning, but I don’t care as I knock on her door softly so I don’t startle her.
My sternum is so tight that it's pushing my heart violently into my throat.
I knock again, with more of an edge this time out of pure nervousness. When I stop, the silence taking over is deathly still. All too quiet. Reaching for the door handle, I slowly push the door open.
“Kate,” I murmur.
Forcing myself through, my eyes slowly adjust to the swallowing darkness. The dim room, lit by the moonlight pouring through the French doors, highlights the emptiness that I somehow felt in my bones the moment I entered the house.
The cream duvet on her bed is untouched, the pillows perfectly in place. Dread pools in my gut. Not at the immaculate space, or the emptiness that devours the warmth that once thrived here, but it's the object glistening on the nightstand.
Soft, white light reflects off the gold chain, replacing the heat that consumes my bones with ice. Rage simmers under my skin, sizzling enough to melt it off my flesh to seep into the carpet. My footsteps are weighted as my anger drags me to the nightstand.
I grip the collar in my fist as if I can crush the pure gold into shards that will fall to my feet.
Kate ran.
Lowered my guard with that gorgeous mouth and that sweet pussy and a soul that I naively thought might be made for mine.
The collar dangles in my fist, my eyes fastened on the jagged edge where one of the chains was cut. The lock, still perfectly in place, taunts me. Gripping the collar with one hand, fueled by every ounce of fury coursing through my veins, I reach into my pocket and yank out my phone, dialing Brody.
The line connects, but he says nothing.
“Where the fuck is she?” I growl. “I swear to God, if you don’t find her in the next five seconds, I’m going to lodge my knife up your—”
“Preston.” His words are a trigger, nailing my chest straight on like they were meant to. “Arden has her.”