Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Anne
The apartment is dark.
I haven’t opened the curtains in days. Haven’t turned on the lights. The darkness feels appropriate somehow, like the physical world is finally matching the void inside me.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table for what must be the hundredth time. I don’t look at it. Don’t need to. I know it’s Violet, or Sienna, or maybe both of them on a group call trying to check on me.
It took four days after I fainted before Violet finally let me be alone.
Since I got home, the couch has become my entire world.
I’ve moved from it for only a few reasons in these past forty-eight hours—to use the bathroom, to get water when my throat became too dry to swallow, and once to stand at the window and stare out at nothing until my legs gave out and I had to sit back down.
Food sits untouched on the kitchen counter—some meal Sienna dropped off yesterday morning before I stopped answering the door. I can smell it from here. It has gone bad and is making my stomach turn.
I can’t remember the last time I showered. Can’t remember if I brushed my teeth this morning or if that was yesterday. Time has lost meaning, bleeding into one endless stretch of gray.
The worst part is the silence.
Not the quiet of the apartment, though that’s oppressive enough, but the silence in my head where Kain’s voice used to be. Where his laughter used to echo. Where memories of him used to live.
Now, there’s…nothing. A hollow space where something vital used to exist.
My phone buzzes again. I watch it vibrate across the coffee table, the screen lighting up with Violet’s name and photo. Her smiling face, so trusting, so kind.
A knock sounds on the door at the same time, and I sigh. This is probably Violet, too, trying a two-pronged approach. I bet Sienna told her that the only way to get me to talk is to show up at my door. That’s what she did yesterday.
The knock comes again, more insistent now.
A defeated sigh leaves my lips as I drag my feet across the room and open the door.
“You didn’t have to come, Vi—” The words die in my throat as my gaze meets a broad chest where Violet’s face should be. And that scent…
Kain!
Terror shoots through me like ice water, jolting me out of my stupor. I scramble to shut the door, but he puts his foot in the way too quickly.
“Anne, wait. Please li—” he starts to say, reaching for me, but I scream and back away instantly, giving up on the door and retreating into the apartment.
What is he doing here? How is he here? He should be locked up! He should be—
The door swings open fully, and he stands there, backlit by the hallway light so I can’t see his face properly.
“Anne—” he repeats, taking one step toward me.
“No! Get out!” My voice comes out hoarse from disuse. “Get out of my apartment!”
“Anne, please, just listen—” he takes two more steps, and I bolt.
“No!” I’m in the kitchen now, my hand reaching blindly behind me until my fingers touch the knife block. I pull out my biggest knife and hold it in front of me with trembling hands. “Stay back. I mean it, Kain. Stay away from me or I’ll—”
I can’t finish the threat due to the fear clogging my throat.
Kain freezes, his eyes going wide. “Anne, I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You expect me to believe that?” I ask bitterly. “You’re not my Kain. You just have his face. My Kain would never have done this. He would never have used me!”
My eyes dart between him and the door, and I wonder if I can get past him to escape. This man got caught because of me. If he’s here, it must be to kill me!
“Anne, I never meant to hurt you! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”
“‘Sorry’ doesn’t mean anything!” Tears are streaming down my face now, hot and relentless. “Nothing you say means anything anymore!”
He takes a step forward, and I thrust the knife toward him. “I said, stay back!”
The look on his face…It’s like I’ve physically struck him. Like the sight of me holding a weapon against him is breaking him apart.
Good. Let him break. Let him feel even a fraction of what I’ve been feeling.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says again, and his voice is gentle now, careful. As if he’s talking to a wounded animal. “Anne, please. Put the knife down.”
“Stay away from me! I mean it! How did you get out? Am I your target now?”
“Of course not!” He glances around, then points toward the living room, where he must have noticed my phone. “You can call Darius. He’ll tell you. He sent me here.”
“I don’t believe a word you say.”
“Then call,” he begs. “Please. Call Violet. She’ll explain everything.”
My hands are shaking so badly, I’m not sure I can hold both the knife and the phone and still defend myself. So, I tell Kain to go get my phone and bring it to me.
“Put it on the counter,” I say when he reappears in the kitchen. “And back up.”
He sets the phone down gently and takes three steps backward, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender.
I grab the phone without lowering the knife, my eyes only leaving him for a second as I pull up Violet’s contact and hit call. It rings twice.
“Anne! I was trying to reach you,” Violet says immediately.
“I need to talk to Darius. Kain is here,” I say.
“Hold on.”
After a short pause, Darius’s voice comes from the background. “Anne, I’m here.”
“Why is Kain at my apartment? Did he escape?”
“I let him go.” Darius’s voice is calm, measured. “We’ve reached an agreement. He’s cooperating fully with our investigation.”
I’m baffled by that response. “But he tried to kidnap Violet!”
“Yes. He’s under supervision. Anne,” Darius says slowly, “it would be best if he stayed with you for the next few days.”
The words don’t make any sense. “What?”
“I’ll let him explain the details, but an organization has been controlling him and may be watching his apartment. It isn’t secure. But your place is part of pack housing. It’s safer for him to hide where they won’t be able to look. This was Violet’s idea, actually. She thinks you both need this.”
“No.” The word is immediate and automatic despite my confusion about this…organization? “Absolutely not. I am not letting him stay here.”
“Anne, I understand this is difficult—”
“Difficult? He used me! He—” My voice breaks completely.
“I know. Believe me, I know. But we need him alive and functional if we’re going to take these people down. And that means keeping him somewhere safe.”
“Keep him in prison.”
“We can’t do that.” Darius’s tone softens.
“The organization can’t know he’s been compromised, so we need him to be spending time with you.
That way, it can seem like he is still working for them.
I’m asking you to do this for the pack, Anne.
For Violet. Just for a few days while we figure out a more permanent solution. ”
I look at Kain, still standing between the kitchen and the living room with his hands raised, his expression a mixture of pain and desperate hope.
“And if I say no?”
“Then I’ll respect that. I won’t force you. But Anne”—another pause—“I think you need to hear what happened from him.”
I don’t want to hear it. Don’t want his explanations or his excuses. Still, I can’t bring myself to refuse since it will help protect Violet.
“Fine,” I relent. “A few days. That’s it.”
“Thank you. Call me if you need anything.”
The line goes dead.
I set the phone down, but I don’t lower the knife.
Kain hasn’t moved, hasn’t tried to come closer. He’s just watching me with those intense eyes that used to make me feel safe. Now, they just make me feel hollow.
“You can stay,” I tell him, my voice flat. “But you sleep on the couch. And you don’t come near me. Don’t talk to me unless I talk to you first. And don’t—” My voice breaks again. “Don’t touch me.”
His expression crumbles. “Anne—”
“Those are my terms. Accept them or leave.”
“I accept them,” he says, nodding. “Whatever you need.”
He lowers his hands, his gaze sweeping over me, and I see the exact moment he registers the unkempt hair, rumpled clothes, and dark circles under my eyes that I know must be prominent even in the low light.
“When did you last eat?” His tone is soft, concerned, and it makes anger flare hot in my chest.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t act like you care. Don’t pretend like my well-being matters to you.”
“It does matter.” He takes a half-step forward but stops when I tense up. “Anne, I know you won’t believe me, and you have every right not to, but you matter to me. You always have.”
“Stop lying.”
“I’m not—”
“Everything you’ve said to me has been a lie! Every word, every touch, every moment. All of it was manipulation to get to Violet. So, don’t stand there and tell me I matter to you when we both know that’s just another lie.”
“It’s not.” He hangs his head before continuing. “The accident was a lie. The amnesia was a lie. But what I felt for you, what I still feel for you, that was never a lie.”
The knife almost drops from my hand. “What did you just say?”
Did I hear him right? My heart starts to pound, and I get a bitter taste of betrayal on my tongue unlike what I felt before. I think I might faint again.
He looks back up at me, taking a breath. “That wasn’t how I planned to tell you,” he says before pressing his lips together. “I’m sorry, Anne. I remember everything. I always did. I lied about the amnesia to protect my cover.”
The room starts to spin. I grab the counter with my free hand to steady myself. “Y—you remember?”
“Everything. Every moment of our youth. Every promise we made. Every plan for our future.” His eyes meet mine, and the pain in them appears genuine. “I remembered you every single day for ten years.”
“Then why—”
“Because I thought you’d forgotten me. I thought the pack had abandoned me. I thought—” He stops, shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. Those were all lies. But I believed them.”
I can’t process this. Can’t hold all of this information in my head at once without going completely mad.
The whole time he was in prison, I thought that he truly couldn’t remember me but had chosen to exploit my obvious feelings for him in order to deceive me.
I thought he had lied about the mate bond reactivating just to be able to use me to get to Violet.
I never expected that the mate bond had never been dead to begin with.
He hurt me despite our past and despite the bond.
“Get out of my sight.” The words come out sounding cold, lifeless. “I don’t want to look at you right now.”
He flinches like I’ve slapped him in the face, but he nods. “Okay. I’ll—I’ll be out here if you need anything.”
I wait until he’s in the living room, until I hear the couch creak under his weight, before I lock myself in my bedroom.
The knife comes with me.
I set it on the nightstand, within reach, and crawl into bed still fully clothed. The pillowcase smells stale. Everything in here feels dead.
Including me.
Sleep doesn’t come for hours. When it finally does, it brings nightmares.
I’m back in the HQ parking lot, but this time, when Kain kisses me, his hands are around my throat. Squeezing. I can’t breathe, can’t scream, can’t—
I wake up shrieking. The sound tears out of my throat, raw and terrified, and I thrash in my sheets trying to escape phantom hands until—
“Anne! Anne, it’s okay. You’re okay.”
Strong arms wrap around me, pulling me against a solid chest. A familiar scent surrounds me, pine and earth and…Kain.
“No, no, get away—” I struggle, still half caught in the nightmare.
“Shh, it’s okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” His hand strokes my hair, his voice soft and soothing. “You’re safe, Anne. I promise. Nothing is going to hurt you.”
Reality slowly bleeds back in. I’m in my bedroom. The nightmare wasn’t real. And Kain is holding me, rocking me gently, murmuring comfort into my hair.
But I locked the door.
“How did you—”
“You were screaming. I broke the lock.” His arms tighten around me. “I couldn’t stay away when I thought you were in danger.”
I should push him away. Should grab the knife and order him back to the couch.
But I’m so tired. So broken. And his arms feel safe in a way nothing else has since I heard him on that call. I find my fingers fisting in his shirt despite my wanting nothing to do with him.
I let him hold me while I cry into his chest, while the sobs wrack my body, while everything I’ve been holding in pours out in violent waves.
I hate myself for being so weak around him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers in my ear. “I’m so sorry, Anne. For everything. For all of it.”
I don’t respond. I can’t.
I just cry. And through it all, he holds me.
Like he used to.
Like he still has that right.