31. Peyton
PEYTON
I spent two days thinking through every single possibility and every option. I’d allowed myself time with all three of my men, and now I had to count the cost.
They’d done a hell of a job hiding that from me, but my eyes were wide open and I couldn’t hide. If I went forward, it would be with the full knowledge of the bloodshed that came with the reality of their world.
The day after they rescued me, I spent hours in bed. Recovering. That’s what they said, and I let it go.
I told them to go to work, but they stayed in the penthouse, taking care of business remotely and watching over me.
I’d wanted some time alone to think, but I didn’t want to be alone. It made no sense to me, so I kept it to myself and let them do what they needed to feel better about the situation.
We spent our nights together, curled around one another, and it was the most uneasy sleep I’d experienced since falling for them.
By the next day, I’d reached a conclusion.
I couldn’t accept the cost of their world.
Not after discovering the secrets they’ve been keeping from me.
Not to mention, I had my own secret now. A secret I needed to think about above everything else.
But life without Leo, Misha, and Viktor terrified me.
I loved them. Thinking about leaving felt like ripping out my own heart and stomping on it.
Loving them came with consequences, and even though I loved them more than I ever thought I could love anyone, love was not enough.
Love would not protect my baby.
Love would not keep men like Anton from coming after me and my child once they knew. And I would not allow myself to let my child be the cost of my love. That tiny, precious life came first.
I hated myself for figuring out the perfect solution.
They’d practically spoon fed it to me, though.
I winced at the thought of putting Viktor and Misha through another loss so close to what they’d already suffered.
They’d survive, though. They were tough men.
They might mourn me for a while, but they would recover. They’d move on.
Sitting outside a coffee shop on the fourth day after my kidnapping, I evaluated my plan for anything I’d missed. A car horn blew, and I stood and waved, smiling at the woman who’d parked the unremarkable silver sedan.
“Hey, thanks for meeting me here.” I fidgeted with my purse strap, keeping my eyes downcast.
“Oh, honey, don’t worry about it.” The woman patted my arm once, then held out the keys. “Everything’s taken care of. You have a full tank of gas.”
My throat tightened at the lie I’d told to convince this woman not to put my name on any of the paperwork when I bought the used car from her.
She believed I was running from an abusive ex.
I hadn’t told her that, but my furtiveness had driven her to the conclusion and I hadn’t corrected her.
I adjusted my sunglasses and cleared my throat.
“Thank you. You have no idea what that means to me.”
“Just get out. Get somewhere safe.”
I nodded. “I will.” I handed over the cash and slid behind the wheel. It took longer to drive and park than it should have, because I kept having to stop and wipe my eyes as tears poured in rivers. I’d made one more stop on the way.
Walking into the butcher shop and asking for a gallon of pig’s blood had caused the man behind the counter to roll his eyes, but he’d handed it over with little more than a grunt.
Guess I wasn’t the first person to ask. He took my money and disappeared into the back before I even made it to the door. I parked down the street from where I’d left my car at the mall and walked the rest of the way.
My throat closed. I kept walking. I had to keep walking because if I stopped, even for a second, I would not start again.
I’d convinced them to go to work today, promising I would be fine. I told them I wanted a few hours alone with some retail therapy and I’d meet them at the office.
They hadn’t liked it, but they’d gone because their meetings had begun backing up and soon, clients would start questioning them if they didn’t show up at the office.
Stopping several feet from my car, I took one more deep breath and craned my neck to look up at the building. I’d asked them multiple questions about security, and they’d answered because they thought I was still worried.
Truthfully, I was worried, but more about them catching me and realizing what I was doing.
“Move your feet, Peyton. You made the decision, now follow through.” I’d never dealt with this kind of thing before, so I wasn’t sure how to make it look realistic, but I did my best.
First, I opened the driver’s side door and splashed blood across the seat.
Then I took the knife I’d carried in my purse forever and sliced through the seat.
Tears blurred my vision, and I sniffed them back so I could see better. I paused with my hand on the car door.
I’d bought this car myself, my first year in New York. I’d driven it on every grocery run, every interview until I landed the job with Leo and the others.
Every single day to work.
Ripping it apart and splashing blood everywhere like one of those slasher movies I avoided created one of those dichotomies… or something like that.
Whatever it was that meant I’d put a literal end to a part of my life in a very visual way.
A few more hacking slashes, a few more splashes of blood that trailed over the lip of the door and onto the street, then I took my foot and smeared it around so it resembled what I thought drag marks would look like.
What else?
The goal was to make it look like I’d been attacked on my way to my car. Attacked and killed.
I needed them not to look for me, which was why I added even more blood. I needed them to think I was dead and my body had been hauled away by Anton and his men.
I didn’t let myself think beyond the tiny baby growing inside me. I was doing this for them, for our safety.
My heart broke over and over again, but I had no choice. I could not live in this world.
I tossed the now empty bucket in the dumpster two blocks down, double-checked that I hadn’t left anything behind that I couldn’t live without, and drove away. I threw my phone out the window as I drove over the next bridge, then called Mom from the cheap thing I’d bought at a gas station.
My voice gave me away from the first syllable. I didn’t tell her everything, but she knew enough.
“Come home, honey. Dad’s already working on getting the family together. We’ll take care of everything.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I sniffed. “You think they’ll be mad at me? This is going to affect all of their lives.”
“No. No one is mad at you. Just be safe. Do you want us to meet you halfway?” Footsteps shuffled in the background, then Dad’s voice came over the phone.
“You remember that little cafe we all stopped at during our vacation that year you got carsick?”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “Yeah.”
“Meet me there.”
I loved him for going all in. He made it sound all secret spy mission by not saying the location over the phone. Like our conversations might be recorded somewhere.
Hell, maybe they were. My knowledge was based on the few crime documentaries and spy shows I’d watched over the years. I couldn’t exactly research what I needed to know when my lovers were technologically savvy enough to find it once I was gone.
If they thought to look. I had no idea if I’d made it convincing enough that they’d just accept my death.