50. Chapter 50 #2
"Londyn," she says, her voice steadier now with a certainty that chills me to the bone.
"I understand. Believe me, I understand how hard this is.
But Victor was my ex's father. He's an evil man.
If he's involved, and Sean hasn't come back…
" Her fingers tighten, not painful but urgent.
"Victor will come for us next. He's already on his way.
He'll find us if we stay here and we'll be dead. "
I remember Victor's black, empty eyes and I know she's right.
"He's killed so many people." Her voice drops to a whisper.
"And when he has his sights on you, there's no escape.
" Her eyebrows tighten and seem to draw her eyes closer together.
She looks scraped raw by memories and her fingers tremble against my shoulders.
"I know better than anyone. I used to be part of his world, and I've heard so many terrible stories about him that would make you lose your appetite for weeks. "
I search her face, and I see the same ghosts in her eyes that I imagine live behind mine. Survivors recognizing survivors.
"I'm sorry, Londyn," she says. "I love Sean. I don't want to think that something happened to him either, but he's always punctual and keeps his word. We have to accept that he's not coming. We need to leave so we don't join him."
Watching Sienna, seeing the raw fear in her eyes, is a mirror that reveals my new future. A life spent running. A life spent looking over my shoulder. A life Sean would never want for me.
Or for our child.
But that's my life now.
Worse than that, Sean is…
He's…
Sienna pulls me into a hug just as I break. My knees buckle, so she guides me back to the couch and holds me as I sob.
"He… can't… be…"
She strokes my hair. "I know. I know."
My collapse has a domino effect and soon Sienna is crying in my arms as much as I am in hers. Declan sniffs behind us and turns away so we can't see his emotions.
Sean is really gone. How am I ever going to heal from this?
I won't. There will never be another man I love so much.
Sean, how did—
The shrill ring of Declan's phone cuts through the sobbing.
He sniffs again and pulls it from his pocket, glancing at the screen. His eyes flash wider, his jaw slackens, and the color rushes back into his face. He answers quickly. "Where are you?" He pulls the phone from his ear, tapping the screen. "You're on speaker."
A voice floats into the room. It's faint, strained, but unmistakable.
My Sean.
"The main gate. Thought I'd come by for a visit since you two are always bugging me to come over."
He's barely finished speaking and I'm on my feet, racing to the door. I'm wearing what Sienna said was standard California footwear, flip-flops, but I don't care. I run out the front door and down the driveway. I reach the gate as it opens. Sean is just standing there like he's a lost puppy.
I stop several feet away from the shock of seeing him look so…
beaten. His silhouette is wrong somehow, hunched and uneven, and I can tell he's trying to hide the pain twisting his face.
He starts limping forward, one arm wrapped protectively around his ribs.
Even from this distance, I can see the dark stain on his shirt near his left pec.
The moonlight catches something wet and shining on his face.
Blood.
He moves closer, each step seeming to require immense effort.
When he's near enough for me to see his face clearly, a strangled sound escapes my throat.
His left eye is swollen shut, the skin around it a sickening palette of purple and black.
Dried blood crusts at the corner of his mouth and along a gash across his cheekbone.
It looks like he tried to clean himself up but everything broke open again.
"Hey, beautiful," he says. The words are a rasp of sandpaper.
More tears spring up and I reach for him instinctively. I pull back at the last second, terrified of causing more pain.
Instead, I slip under his arm, offering my shoulder for support. "Lean on me," I whisper, guiding him down the driveway. When we reach the entrance, Declan takes over and helps Sean inside and to the couch.
He sinks into the cushions with a groan and lets out a relieved exhale. "Hey." He takes my hand when I move closer. "Sorry, I'm late for book club."
I want to smile, but it's too hard. He looks so broken, so utterly depleted. The strong, capable man who left us days ago has been replaced by this battered shell, held together by what looks like sheer willpower.
But maybe he needs lightness right now, so I say, "That's okay. I'm sure you read War and Peace three times already and can get me caught up."
He starts to laugh and then abruptly stops, holding his side and wincing. "Yeah. I'll get you caught up," he bites out.
Declan and Sienna hang back, just witnessing this reunion that's nothing like what I imagined. I have a thousand questions burning on my tongue, but they all wither away, leaving me struggling for words.
Sean tugs on my arm gently until I sit next to him. "Got some broken ribs," he says. "They should heal on their own, but it wouldn't hurt to see a doctor. One step closer to meeting my deductible, you know?"
The simple statement, so devoid of the dramatics this moment deserves, finally breaks my paralysis. "What happened? How did you get beaten up like this?"
Sean shakes his head. There's an emptiness in his gaze that frightens me more than his physical injuries, like something foundational has been carved out of him. He reaches for me and pulls me into an embrace that surprises me with its strength.
I try to pull away when he groans in pain, but his arm tightens, refusing to let me go. He buries his face in my hair, inhaling deeply as if gaining strength from my scent.
"I knew you'd come back," I sob into his shoulder, the relief so overwhelming it feels like drowning. "I knew it."
Declan approaches, his large frame casting shadows in the low light. He places a gentle hand on Sean's shoulder. "Great to see you. Though I miss the blue hair."
A ghost of a smirk flickers across Sean's battered face, there and gone in an instant. "I'll stop by the salon this weekend."
"No, you'll be resting this weekend," I tell him.
The three of us are skirting around the elephant in the room, grasping for some sense of normalcy. But Sienna remains distant, hovering at the edge of the room like she's afraid to come closer. Her entire body is withered inward with dread, and her eyes are fixed on Sean like he's a threat.
Sean glances at her and something passes between them. The unspoken exchange raises the hairs on the back of my neck. There's history here I'm not privy to, connections I can't see but can feel vibrating in the air between them.
"Can you…" I swallow against the dryness in my throat. "Um, can you just tell me a little about what happened? Was he arrested?"
Sean's eyes drop to the floor, then they dart up and find Sienna's window painting resting in the corner. "Well… I was supposed to dislocate fingers," he says quietly, "but I broke bones instead."
My hand flies to my mouth. "He's gone? Truly gone?"
Sean nods once, and I know that's all he's ever going to tell me about it.
I choke out a sob. Gone. That wasn't the plan, but the knowledge that the monster who haunted my dreams can never touch me again makes my body sag as if invisible chains have finally fallen away.
But there's terror too.
"What about Victor? Do we still need to leave the country and—"
"Taken care of. You're safe, I promise. Mike's family is safe."
I open my mouth then close it. But not Mike? Because if Alan is dead, then what happened to Mike?
Sean looks ready to collapse, his good eye already drooping with exhaustion.
The question can wait but… I already sense the answer.
With the same certainty that told me Sean would return, I can feel that Mike is gone.
Hearing Sean speak it out loud will only make me collapse into hours of sobbing.
Right now, Sean needs my help and focus.
I turn to Declan, who's been watching this exchange with growing concern. "Hospital," I say.
He nods, already moving toward the door. "I'll bring the car around."
As he walks away, my gaze falls on Sean's shirt, where a dark stain spreads across his chest. It's a clean shirt otherwise, so it's like a healing wound has opened up under the fabric. And it has an odd, deliberate shape to it.
Before Sean can stop me, I pull back his collar, exposing his skin.
"What is this?" I breathe, horror spreading through me like ice water.
There, carved into his flesh, is the letter V.
"Later," he says, reaching for my hand. "We'll talk later."
But I can't tear my eyes away. I hear Sienna's whisper from across the room.
"Sean, what did you do?"
His body tenses beside me, and when I glance up, I find him exchanging another look with her, like they both know the devil and feel his call.
I take Sean's hand and he turns back to me, smiling.
It's not his normal smile. The corners are pinched and weary. And as I study him, Sienna's words play on repeat in my thoughts: "When he has his sights on you…"
My love, have we traded one monster for another?