CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE CHLOE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHLOE
NOW
What have I done?
For years I’ve kept my distance from men, knowing the second I allow them close, I’ll have to run. So why did I allow Ryker to touch me?
Especially knowing in just a few hours I’ll be long gone, a distant memory in his story.
Every breath is labored, my body desperate for oxygen as I come down from the best orgasm I’ve had in years.
I’ve tried to convince myself that the toys I have stashed in my nightstand are just as good as the real thing, but boy was I wrong.
There’s something about being at the mercy of another person, your pleasure in their hands, that adds to the bliss in a way your own hand can’t.
Just another thing to miss when I leave here.
Once I regain use of my limbs, I scramble across the couch, putting as much distance between us as the seat will allow.
My pants are still bundled around my ankles, my panties ruined, and Ryker just stares at me with amusement on his lips.
I’m glad he thinks this situation is funny because it’s the complete fucking opposite for me.
As if to prove his point, he grasps his semi-hard cock through his sweatpants, outlining the wet patch seeping through the thick fabric.
Did he really come just watching me fall apart?
And if he did, why do I love the idea of that so much?
“I’m going to bed,” I squeak, stumbling off the couch and tugging my sweatpants up and over my hips as quickly as I can manage. Unfortunately, that also means it’s done with exactly zero grace, only adding to Ryker’s smirk.
Asshole.
“Goodnight, Siren.” He drags his bottom lip between his teeth as his gaze rakes over me.
I huff out a sigh and head for the door, desperate to put this encounter behind me.
“Oh, and Chloe?” He waits for me to look over my shoulder. “If you’re planning to sneak out in the middle of the night, I’d rethink that plan if I were you.”
My mouth drops open in surprise, but I don’t manage a response before I round the corner and pull in my first full breath of air since Ryker first touched me.
“Good work, Chloe. You’ve really outdone yourself this time,” I mutter under my breath as I head to my bedroom and close the door behind me, flicking the lock out of habit more than anything.
A flimsy lock will do little to protect me from an intruder, but the illusion of safety is enough to allow my eyes to close at night.
I lean against the door, dragging in a few steady breaths until my heart rate finally returns to normal. Or as normal as it can be after allowing your bodyguard to get you off in the middle of a common area just a few hours before you’re planning to run away.
My eyes move over the bedroom I’ve had since I moved in here ten years ago, the small collection of personal items I’ve collected over the years scattered across the space.
Art that Camilla drew me when she was young, a photo of the two of us at her graduation, and the overly expensive necklace John bought me for Christmas a few years ago that I’ve never been brave enough to wear out of the house.
Not that I really go anywhere. Twenty thousand dollars’ worth of diamonds doesn't exactly scream a trip to the supermarket with a ball cap and oversized glasses.
A zap of pain radiates through my chest as I take in the soft bedding I’ve become accustomed to and the familiarity of the space, the refuge that it’s offered me all these years.
It’s going to hurt like hell to say goodbye, but now that they know where I am, I have no choice but to find a new home, a new refuge.
Even if I’ll be all alone again.
Something I now realize has become my greatest fear.
It only takes an hour to pack up my clothes and the items I refuse to leave behind, which leaves me ample time to write a letter to Camilla, explaining all the reasons I can’t stay, but I wish I could.
Guilt eats away at me no matter how much I try to reason with myself that she doesn’t need me anymore. She has her guys, and they have a beautiful life ahead of them.
I tear up the first three attempts, the words not feeling adequate as I explain what an honor it has been to be everything she needed all these years.
Eventually I realize there aren’t words to describe how grateful I am to have been part of her life and how she put me back together without ever realizing she was doing it.
The letter flows onto the page, and before I know it, I’m letting her know I’ll get in touch once I find somewhere safe to settle.
Tears roll down my cheeks as I seal the envelope and write her name in the center of the blank space.
She deserves so much more than a measly letter, but it’s all I can give her under the circumstances.
Leaving it on the edge of the perfectly made bed, I throw my backpack over my shoulder and clutch my overnight bag in my left hand before doing one final look over the room.
I’ve already pulled the cash I had stashed around the room from its hiding places, and it’s safely tucked in a couple of pairs of socks in the bottom of my bag, but I do a mental check over to ensure I didn’t miss anything.
I’m stalling. I know myself well enough to know that, but I can’t help it. This part of my life is just as significant as the first eighteen years, and it’s just as hard to say goodbye.
At least this time I don’t have any fresh trauma from watching my parents be tortured and killed, or from staring into the eye of a boy I once loved as he helped his father dismantle my entire life in front of my eyes.
The love I had for Damon was always complicated. It wasn’t easy like it was with Ronan. It was just as hard as the man himself, just as complex as our story had always been.
For years it felt like a dirty little secret, a betrayal to Ronan.
But now that I’m grown and I’ve watched Camilla fall head over heels for four men, I realize it’s possible to love more than one person.
It’s messy, and some days are hard, but the heart is built to love.
The number of people you allow into the organ that keeps your blood pumping just depends on you.
I wish I’d known that then.
I wish I’d known the guilt I felt rumbling in my chest every time my eyes met Damon’s was misplaced.
But I was a kid, we all were.
How could we know that love looks different for everyone?
Just the thought of the brothers has my chest aching.
No matter how hard I’ve tried, I’ve never stopped missing them. Not the ruthless men they are today, but the kids they were when the three of us were inseparable. When responsibility to the Lombardi name meant nothing and blood had never coated our hands.
When the love we had for one another was pure and untainted.
Forcing the thought from my mind, I slip into the hallway and take the side stairs to the main level. It took a few years, but I know this place like the back of my hand, and that makes it easier to sneak down to the garage without being seen.
There are a few cameras I avoid, not wanting Ryker to know what I’m doing on the off chance he’s watching the feed.
He probably thinks his warning was enough to keep me tucked up in bed tonight, but I have to leave. No matter how desperate I am to stay, it’s just not an option.
I weave through the lower-level hallways, and soon I’m standing beside my car, my heart thudding in my chest as I allow the gravity of the situation to wash over me.
Once I leave these grounds, I’ll never be back again.
The life I’ve lived within these walls is over, and once again I have to start over.
I press my eyes closed and drag in an unsteady breath, steeling myself for everything that comes next before slipping behind the wheel and throwing my bags onto the passenger seat just in case I have to make a quick escape.
All the lessons I learned a decade ago that I’d hoped to never need again are loud in the back of my mind.
Perhaps I was naive to think I’d be able to avoid my past forever, or maybe it was just wishful thinking.
But there’s no point dwelling on it now. The sooner I find somewhere safe, the sooner I can start my new life.