Chapter 12 Ashleigh
Ashleigh
Iblink awake, tangled in sheets and the delicious soreness of last night’s wildness.
For a moment, it’s just peace—no threats, no estate, no wedding, no father, just the gentle rise and fall of Kaden’s breathing beside me, soothing and steady, grounding me in a reality that feels borrowed from someone else’s life.
I roll onto my side, watching him sleep.
His hair is mussed, jaw shadowed with stubble, features softer than I’ve ever seen.
I reach out, tracing the scar that cuts across his collarbone.
He stirs, eyelids fluttering, and catches my hand in his.
For a moment, we’re suspended in this hush, the world narrowed to the heat between our palms and the slow, lazy rhythm of our breaths.
“Could get used to this,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.
“Me too,” I whisper. I let myself imagine: waking up like this every morning, safe, wanted, free. But the memory of last night’s panic—and the reality of the world outside—prick at the edges of my mind.
Kaden’s thumb strokes my knuckles. “We’re safe for now,” he says, as if reading my thoughts. “But I have to go out soon, I have an errand to run.”
A tightness curls in my chest, but I force a smile. “Just five more minutes?”
He grins, pulling me closer. “Five. You drive a hard bargain.”
We lie like that, pressed together, stealing softness from a hard world. For the first time in a long time, I believe escape might really be possible.
The next time I wake, I reach across the bed feeling for Kaden, but come up empty. Eyes open, I see the space next to me is empty. “Kaden?” No response.
I climb out of bed and search the rest of the cabin, but again, come up empty. What the fuck?
My gaze lands on the piece of paper on the bedside table. I pick it up and read the messy scratch of words, but it does nothing to erase my confusion.
Kaden is gone, but he’ll be back. That’s the context of the note—just a single line, scrawled in his hurried handwriting: 'Back soon. Trust me.' No time frame or reasoning, just that he’ll be back soon.
Fire lights me up inside, a flicker of anger and fear I can’t swallow down.
I’m not sure why, but I feel like I’ve been ditched, abandoned without warning.
I sit up, rest against the headboard and breathe through the irrationally dark thoughts whirling around my mind, fighting the urge to tear the note in half.
And then it hits me. I’m alone. In the middle of God knows where, completely alone. The silence settles in, the kind that amplifies every creak of the floorboards and cricket chirping happily outside the cabin. My skin prickles with awareness.
I could scream, and no one would hear me. For the first time since the accident, I’m truly on my own, and I don’t know how I should feel about it. The possibility of true solitude feels both liberating and terrifying.
Where is Kaden? Why would he leave?
I suck in a sharp breath as I realise the only rational answer to that.
After last night, Kaden wouldn’t have left while I was sleeping unless it was something seriously urgent. Even then, if someone was hurt or needed at work, he had no reason to wake me or include those details in the note.
I jump up and dress quickly. I need to catch up with him. I need to be in the know. What is he doing, and is he okay?
I try to catch my breath and rationalise, but in my gut I can feel it. He’s gone, and he’s going to do something stupid. To confirm my suspicions, I double-check the sideboard drawer where he unloaded and stashed his Glock yesterday. The drawer is empty.
Ok. I need a plan.
If he were meeting with my father, I know my father won’t leave the estate. He’s pretty cowardly when it comes down to the wire. I need to get there. And I need a piece.
Pulling my hair back and into a low pony, I walk through to the kitchen and to the landline on the wall. What a throwback - it’s adorable. With my brow furrowed, I dial one of the few numbers I know by heart. The only one who will be any help in this situation.
“Miriam?” I whisper as soon as the line picks up.
“Ashleigh?” Miriam whispers back, sounding shocked.
“I need your help.”
“Anything.”