Chapter 39 Slade
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
SLADE
My limo bumps along, and I glance over at Thea.
She’s covered in bandages. I had the DuPont personal physician check her before my grandfather’s cold dead body was removed from the house.
The cuts on her skin are thin, scattered and angry red, but shallow.
The real damage isn’t the red lines twisted around her wrists or the careless way my grandfather carved her skin—it’s the ones that can’t be seen.
She flinches at every slight touch. Her eyes were distant when the doctor was probing her for answers about her injuries, and I can’t help but think she’s reliving every sting and cut as we move through the uneven streets of Chicago.
I could bandage every mark on her body, and it wouldn’t be enough. The wounds she carries go further back than what happened at my grandfather’s house. They are ones I’ll never be able to stitch closed, no matter how much I love her.
Thankfully, Kenji handled most of the aftermath so I could focus on Thea, and Graves sent EV men to clean it all up.
A story will run in the news at some point.
Perhaps they will spin it as suicide or a home invasion.
I’ll have to push through a funeral that honors a truly horrific man.
Pretend to grieve for him, when really, I’ll be grieving her.
We hit another rough patch, and her eyes flick to Edmond and then out the window, as if she’s now just realizing we aren’t headed back to the lake house. “What are we doing? Why are we here?”
I grab her hand, relishing the fact she doesn’t tremble. Not with me. “I didn’t buy your freedom for me, Thea. It’s for you.”
“I-I don’t understand.” Her eyes widen when we pull into her old home’s driveway, and she shakes her head, the tears rolling down her cheeks. She whispers, “I don’t want my freedom without you.”
“If this hadn’t happened to you, I would just be a name in the newspaper to you. I don’t want you to feel obligated to love me because we think you have no other option. This is your option. Freedom. You aren’t EV property, you never were.”
She wrinkles her nose, and the gasp from the back of her throat fades out to a sob.
“What about me? You’re going to dump me here?
Leave me with Phil who not only neglected my mother and me, but sold me?
And some name in the newspaper … what are you saying?
I’m the nobody here, I wouldn’t be on your radar at all. ”
I avert my attention from her, choosing to stare at the splintered porch steps because she’s wrong.
“If I’d ever come across you in the everyday, you’d have no chance.
There’d be no way I could walk away. And Phil doesn’t live here anymore.
The house was foreclosed on last month. I’ve purchased the property and put it in your name. You are safe here.”
“But you’re letting me go now? Make it make sense, Slade. How do you know I’m safe? EV is still out there, and …” Her tears spill, her nostrils run, and all the bruises on her face bunch.
“I love you. You deserve the life they stole from you. If I thought EV could still take that from you, I’d never let you walk away. Negotiations were made on your behalf. You’re free, Thea. You need—”
“No. You can’t tell me what I need!”
“I think you need to decide if you want this life. Your goals … your life is yours again. Tuition has been paid for. Find out what makes you happy.”
Thea oscillates between curling her lip and letting it downturn with her sob. She’s mad at me, good. She hates me, even better.
“Please. It’s more than just the circumstances, I do lo—”
“Get out.” I can’t hear this or I’ll abandon all reason, all intelligence, and drag her home with me.
I want her. Forever and always. But like those comic books I used to escape reality as a child, I’ve used Thea the same way.
My obsession with her, my love for her, has clouded the reality that I still have a mission for EV.
Now, with my grandfather gone, I’m poised for a position that could lead to the destruction of it all together.
It’s as if trying to open my eyes in the ocean, the murky water blurring the direction I need to go.
Thea is my ocean, and I’m lost, drowning in her.
I can’t ask her to join me; she deserves to heal and move on.
“No.” She crosses her arms and stares at me.
“Get out!”
Her eyes widen and more tears break over her lashes. No. Please don’t cry. Glaring, she fumbles for the door. “I hate you. I can’t believe you. You never loved me. I was just a toy for you to play with and make yourself feel better. I never want to see you again!”
“Thea …” Never again? I’m not sure I can promise that.
“Never again,” she whispers. She grapples with the door handle and falls out of the car. Edmond exits behind her, crouching to help her stand. She bats him away with fluttering hands. “Don’t touch me.” Her hands claw at her face and nose as she sniffs and tries to strip the wetness from her face.
Edmond reaches into his pocket to pull out her keys, along with the envelope I had him put together for her. He hands them to her. “Your items from the lake house have been put inside. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call or reach—”
“Edmond,” I snap. He’s making it worse.
Thea scowls at me but turns to address him. “Thank you for your friendship. You’ll never know how much it meant to me. Please tell Stefan that as well.”
Edmond squeezes her shoulder, and something wire-like coils in my chest. I lock my jaw and stiffen, fighting the urge to avert my gaze.
My pulse pounds when she slowly turns and limps toward the steps.
Her steps hitch, and her weight shifts all wrong.
Hobbling, she keeps her chin up as if that somehow makes her less broken.
But her body betrays her—she buckles once, twice—
“Edmond!” I bark, and he scurries to her side, allowing her to lean on him as he escorts her up the front steps.
It should be me. I should carry her. But it’d only upset her, only make this impossible for me. So, I just stare, taking in how damn small she looks.
She pauses to stare at the front door, then she rips the foreclosure paper from it, balls it up, and tosses it to the porch. Edmond fumbles with her keys to open the door, then before I can blink, she’s shut inside.
In minutes, Edmond has repositioned himself into the seat beside me while I stare at the house. He opens his mouth to tell the driver to go, but I sling a hand over his biceps.
“Wait,” I whisper, still staring at the dilapidated home. My heart beats frantically, loud. Everything squeezes and I can’t get enough air, no matter how calm I try to remain. My skin is clammy, and I’m hot and cold all at once. How can I leave her? How can I let her go?
You love her, I tell myself. You love her enough to risk the entire plan for her, to kill your grandfather, to … endure this life without her.
More questions hammer me, and my throat feels as though it’s closing in. I will myself to focus on what’s best for her. Let her go.
“Sir? Are you sure this is what you want? Are you sure this is what’s best for her, too?”
I don’t know. I’m afraid if I open my mouth a raw sound I can’t take back will exit.
So, I shut my mouth, content in the quiet because saying it out loud would make it real.
I stay silent and let the ache settle in as though it were a weighted stone in my gut as Edmond leans forward to tap on the glass divider and the car rolls on.
Loving her doesn’t need words—it never did.