Chapter 38
Sloane
My phone vibrated on the nightstand and pulled me out of my sleep. It was dark, the house silent with one exception: my phone.
I rolled over to silence it, flipping it around and squinting at the bright screen.
CALLER UNKNOWN scrolled across my phone screen.
I felt my heart sink; the room was growing frigid. I just knew. I knew it was him.
The phone kept ringing, but I refused to answer, staring at the screen until the call stopped and my phone faded to black. My breathing stilled as I waited for another call to come through.
I laid my phone on the bed next to my pillow, knowing there was no chance I was falling back asleep. It was past midnight, Rhys was sleeping peacefully next to me, and the night was quiet. But the sinking feeling in my stomach told me this wasn't over.
Twenty or so minutes later, I was still staring at the black screen when it came to life, lighting up the entire room. Quickly, I lowered the brightness and swiped to open the text message.
It was a picture.
Of my parents' house.
He's outside my parents' house.
I moved to wake up Rhys when another text message came through.
Unknown: Your apartment. 20 minutes. Come alone, or I will send someone to your parents' house. Don't test me, Sloane.
This was a bad idea. I could feel it in my bones. My bruised neck was proof of why I shouldn't go.
Before yesterday, there might've been a small part of me convinced that, regardless of his attempts to scare me, he would never seriously harm me if he did happen to get me alone. But now, I knew that wasn't the case.
There was no telling what would happen if he actually got me alone.
Unknown: 19 minutes, Sloane. Your parents seem like nice people. Don't make me hurt them.
My stomach sank, and I quietly sprang into action, slipping out of Rhys’s grasp and tiptoeing into the connected bathroom. Rookie’s head perked up, tilting in my direction as I closed the door.
Me: I'm on my way.
I swallowed my nerves, quickly changing into a pair of leggings and a hoodie, and stepping into my tennis shoes. There was no plan of action, no thought process; I was acting on pure adrenaline and fear.
He could do whatever he wanted to me, but messing with Rhys and messing with my family brought out a protectiveness I didn't know I was capable of possessing.
As quietly as I could, I slipped out of the bathroom, keeping my eyes trained on the bedroom door. If I looked at Rhys, the guilt that would consume me would be enough to make me stop and think, and right now, it didn't feel like I could afford that.
Stu was at my parents' house. And I needed to do whatever I could to lure him away, even if that meant using myself as bait.
Thankfully, Cami and Dom were upstairs, so sneaking out would be easy enough. It was the patrol car out front that made me nervous.
I quietly snatched my keys from the kitchen island and turned to head out the front door, slowly entering the code to disarm the house. Rhys was going to be so pissed at me in the morning. So unbelievably pissed.
Slipping out of the house as quietly as I could, I rearmed the system and walked to my car, cursing under my breath when the headlights lit up the front of the house.
I could see the patrol car's taillights as he turned to circle the block. This was the perfect moment. Hopefully, he wouldn't notice one less car in the driveway.
Fourteen minutes later, I was parked a block away from my building, eyeing my home with dread instead of comfort. Regardless of what happened when I went in there, we would have to move. Nothing would ever feel the same.
Our privacy and our entire lives were invaded and destroyed by Stu and the corrupt cops who worked for him. I would never feel safe there again. It would never feel like home again.
I dug through my pockets and searched the console for my cell phone, cursing loudly when I came up empty. I must've left it on the counter when I changed clothes. I clenched my hands around the steering wheel to keep them from shaking, self-doubt, and fear creeping into my brain.
I already knew I couldn't handle him alone.
What the hell am I doing here?
The car restarted, and I jumped, realizing my finger was pressed against the ignition.
No. My parents. I could do this for my parents.
A small part of me always knew that Rhys would be able to handle whatever Stu threw at him, in or out of a jail cell. My parents were completely innocent in this.
I turned the car off again and climbed out before I could stop myself, locking the doors and heading to the building.
The lobby was quiet; there was no music, no trace of its usual ambiance. Even Marvin, who was usually whistling some tune, was silent when I walked in.
His eyes widened in surprise. "Miss Taylor. What are you-you're not supposed to be here."
"It's okay, I'm just running in to grab something. Rhys is in the car," I lied, offering a small smile that I hope was at least a little genuine and less like the grimace it felt like.
"I can escort you–"
"No!" I interrupted quickly, clearing my throat to regain my composure. "I promise. There's no need. I'll be fast." I'm not the best liar, but he seemed to believe me.
"Okay," he said warily. "Just call me if you need me."
I smiled appreciatively, and while I loved Marvin, the man was old and frail. There wasn't much he could do if I even had my phone, though I appreciated how much he cared. "I will, promise."
More lies.
I turned to head to the elevator, raising a shaky hand to press the up button. I didn't have my phone to check whether he was already here. I was going in completely blind.
Stepping inside, I waved and smiled at Marvin to calm his nerves, then pressed the glowing button to my floor. Once the doors slid shut, I let out the breath I had been holding and fell against the wall, gripping the metal railing to stay on my feet.
There was a horrible feeling in my gut; every other thought was screaming at me to turn around and run back to Cami and Dom's, but then I thought about my parents and Lani, who was staying with them right now after a breakup with her girlfriend.
I needed to see what he wanted and put an end to this, once and for all, for them.
The elevator dinged, signaling my arrival on my floor, and my stomach churned with uncertainty. I exited onto the floor, the once confident steps that got me here in the first place slowed into wary ones, my feet dragging against the carpeted floors.
I gulped when I reached my apartment door, my stomach dropping when I saw it open.
He was here.
A million thoughts were racing through my mind, like how he got into the building or how he even had access to the apartment.
I assumed it had something to do with the pieces of shit working at the station, but how could they still back him up?
Word had gotten around, and people saw my neck.
How were people still helping him terrorize me?
I reached out, slowly pushing the door open to reveal my dark apartment. Seeing it like this with my whole body pulsing with fear only cemented the need to move. This was not my home anymore.
The floors were littered with trash and my belongings, including broken glasses, plates, silverware, and spices, strewn all around the kitchen. I stepped through the threshold, immediately reaching up to flip on the light.
Stu stood in the kitchen by the fridge, a glass of what I assumed was whiskey in his hand. His index finger slid along the brim as he looked up, meeting my eyes. "You came."
I cleared my throat, standing up a little taller. "Of course I did," I whispered, ignoring the satisfaction that flared through his eyes. "You threatened my family, Stu. You knew what would get me here."
He shrugged, lifting the whiskey glass to his lips and taking a long sip. "That picture was from months ago, Sloane. I wasn't gonna do anything to your family."
Fuck.
Why didn't I think to check the front door?
My mother changed the color to fit the season or her mood. I was just there... It was hunter green. In the picture, it was yellow.
"What do you want, Stu?" I tried to keep my voice steady, but he noticed the tiny shake in my words.
"The same thing I've always wanted." He leveled me with a possessive glare, and my stomach dropped.
I took a deep breath and gestured to my bruised neck. "How the hell do you think that's going to work now?"
His jaw clenched along with the fingers wrapped around his glass. "I didn't have to hurt you, Sloane. You made me."
Once again, my mind presented me with two options: stand here with my mouth shut and take whatever harsh words he was throwing at me, or speak my mind and suffer the consequences.
For whatever reason, my mouth was a little braver than my body.
"I didn't make you do shit. Whatever issues you have are your own.
You putting your hands on me, you almost killing me, has nothing to do with anything I've done and everything to do with the delusions living in your brain," I paused as his nostrils flared, thankful for the kitchen island separating us.
"I don't want you, Stu. I don't love you. I want to move on and be happy!"
Stu picked up his whiskey and sent it flying past my head, the glass shattering against the wall behind me. "WE WERE HAPPY!" he roared, the vein in his forehead bulging angrily.
I flinched, taking a step backward toward the open door.
He held up a hand, the movement shifting the jacket he wore and revealing the gun tucked into his holster. "Don't even think about it. Close it," he barked, his hand lowering to rest on top of his gun.
I stayed still, unsure of what to do. Did I have time to make a break for it and run to the stairwell before he got a shot off? My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
Stu gripped his gun tighter. "I said close it, Sloane. Don't do anything stupid.” He softened his expression, as if I could see him as anything less than a threat right now. "Please."