Untamed

by Jessica Sorensen

  I have no clue what’s going on. How on earth did my father and Evan find out what I told Ryler? Yes, I expected that it might happen if Ryler chose to tell my father, but if he did, how could he have done it so quickly? There’s no way Ryler had time to tell them unless…

  I grind my teeth until my jaw pulsates in pain. Unless that’s what he was doing in the car when he was texting my father.

  No, he wouldn’t do that.

  Or would he?

  I don’t know.

  I’m so confused.

  Drowning in madness.

  Never to breathe again.

  No, I won’t go down like this.

  I’m going to fight.

  “Now you have to pay.” Evan raises his hand between us, his fingers wrapped around a syringe.

  “I won’t be punished again!” I shout, wrenching my arm away while bringing my knee up to kick him. “The scar on my side is enough. I’ve paid enough.”

  My foot collides with Evan’s shin, and his fingers slip from my arm as he lets out a sequence of curses. I skitter around him and sprint toward the open door leading into the house, but one of the bodyguards clotheslines me with his arm and my legs flip out from under me.

  I collapse to the ground, and my head hits the concrete as the world starts to spin in bright colors and odd shapes. My neck throbs in pain as my lungs battle to get oxygen.

  “I tried to warn you,” Ellis’ voice fills my head. “I’m so sorry, Emery. I knew they were coming for you, just like they did with me.”

  Evan appears above me, red faced and enraged. For the first time since we met, he doesn’t seem so beautiful. He seems ugly and horrid. Flaws, flaws, flaws for the entire world to see.

  “I hate you,” I choke out as he snatches ahold of my arm. “And one day, I’m going to make you pay for this.”

  “That’s a big threat for such a hollow, pathetic girl.” He plunges the needle into my forearm.

  Like a match struck, my veins ignite with white-hot pain. “No… I’m… going… to… be… free…

  “No, you won’t,” Evan says through my cries, smiling, smiling, smiling, as if he’s wholly enjoying my pain. “No matter what you want, you’ll still end up with me, Emery. Your life has never been your own. My plans for our future together will happen. Now, down, down the rabbit hole you go.”

  My flesh scorches like melting wax as I’m dragged into the darkness of my own mind.

  Down, down the rabbit hole indeed.

  Chapter 15

  The Secrets of Butterflies are About to Fly Free

  Ryler

  The instant Emery slips into unconsciousness, Evan’s bodyguards free me from their hold. I stumble from my knees and stride across the garage, heading straight for Evan, ready to slam my fist into his face.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he warns as he straightens his legs and stands up. He has the syringe in his hand and a pleased grin on his face. “You know who I am now; therefore, I’m pretty sure you can guess the consequences of so much as laying a finger on me.”

  Even though it kills me, I grind to a halt. If I go after him, his bodyguards are going to kill me. Revenge can’t go down like this. It has to be more discreet. But it’s going to happen.

  What was that? I mouth to Evan.

  “Just a little drug my father invented,” he says, eyeing me over. “Don’t worry. It didn’t kill her. It has a little bit of heroin in it so she’ll be out for a while. But she should wake up in a few hours as good as new.” He starts for the door again, but pauses at the steps. “Although, her mind might be a little off whack. At least, that’s what happens in most of the patients my father tested the drug on.”

  My eyes widen. Wait, what?

  He rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s only short-term. Just long enough for her to learn her lesson to keep her fucking mouth shut.”

  My fingers curl into fists. What I wouldn’t do to be able to beat the shit out of him, but like with Ben, if I hit Evan, things aren’t going to go in my favor. I need to be careful, yet still bring that fucking asshole down.

  Evan glances at Emery lying on the floor, then looks over at his bodyguards. “Put her in the car,” he orders. “Doc said to let Ryler drive her home.” He seems irked as hell about that.

  Like fucking hell they’re touching her.

  Shoving him out of the way, I stride across the garage and bend over to pick up Emery. Without mouthing a word, I lift her into my arms and carry her past Evan and to the door.

  “I said to let my bodyguards carry her out,” he calls out, chasing after me.

  Ignoring him, I hurry through the house and out the front door. When I get to the driveway, I gently put Emery in the passenger seat of my car and check her vitals before heading around to hop in the car. Evan is exiting his house by the time I have the driver’s side door open.

  “Did you just deliberately disobey me?” he asks from the front porch, while his bodyguards linger in the doorway.

  Battling the urge to rush over and slam my fist into his face, I lower my head to climb in.

  He runs off the steps and grabs the door as I move to shut it. “I know you can’t speak, but I know you can hear. You weren’t supposed to touch, Emery. My guards were supposed to put her in the car. Not you.”

  I count to ten backwards in my head. His guards are distracted by something inside. They’re not paying attention. I could beat the shit out of him right now and peel out of here before they get to me. But then what about consequences?

  Calm. Stay calm. You’ll only make the situation worse if you don’t.

  Evan smirks at me like he’s won some sort of battle. “As soon as she wakes up, let me know so I can come fuck the shit out of her and remind her who’s in control.”

  That’s it. Something snaps inside me—all of my control. I hop out of the car with my elbow craned back. Before he can react, I bash my fist into his nose.

  He stumbles back, cursing, as he cups his nose. “You fucking—”

  I cut him off with a punch to the gut and then counter the move, my knuckles colliding with his ribcage. I steal one last hit to his jawline before bailing out, because the guards have taken notice.

  They holler at me as I dive back into my car and slam the door. Then I drive like mad down the road, constantly checking in my rearview mirror to see if I’m being followed. I’m not sure how this is going to go. Is Evan going to come after me himself? It seems doubtful. More than likely he’ll send someone else.

  So what do I do next? I could call Doc and try to explain, but from what Evan said, Doc is the reason he injected Emery. Plus, he’s the one who’s been sending her those notes to scare her. No wonder he knew about the last note the moment Emery received it, despite the fact that Emery never brought it up.

  Another question plaguing me is how in the hell did Doc find out that Emery told me he is a monster, and Evan is Donny Elderman’s son? How does he seem to know everything the moment it happens? It doesn’t make any sense.

  I need to text Stale, and tell him Evan is Donny’s son. Then let him know what I’ve done before I get the fuck out of here.

  Shit, this is so bad. I should feel pissed off at myself for making the same mistake again, for lose control and retaliating with violence.

  I glance at Emery, leaning against the car door, completely out of it, just as powerless as me. No, I don’t feel angry at all for protecting her. It was worth it. I just wish I knew how to protect us both now.

  Fuck! This isn’t fair. She shouldn’t have to go through this all because I pushed her to open up to me. I never should have brought her tonight. I had a bad feeling but went against my gut. All so I could what? Pick up another stupid package. Stay on Doc’s good side?

  With one hand on the steering wheel, I yank the package out of my pocket. It seems too small to be carrying drugs. I’ve never bothered looking inside the packages I’m supposed to deliver. Usually it’s all about business, but after what they did to Emery to
night, I want to know what’s in it—what I’m doing this for.

  Carefully lifting the lid off the box, I peek inside.

  What the hell?

  My gaze snaps to Emery. Her arm is lying lifelessly to her side. Attached to her wrist is a silver bracelet with a butterfly pendant shimmering against the glow of the streetlights filtering through the window. It’s the exact same bracelet that’s in the box except Emery’s is secured by a twist tie. I’ve noticed her wearing it before, but it was never been broken. Is that what this package is for? A replacement? Or is it something more?

  I flip over the bracelet in the box and squint at the inscription on the back of the butterfly pendant. So we’ll always know where you are.

  A tracking device? Is that what this is? Is that how her father seems to always know what she’s doing?

  Things are starting to make sense.

  I put the lid back on the box, stuff it into my pocket, and race to get home, breaking every traffic law. By the time I park the car, it’s past five o’clock in the morning and the sun is clipping the peaks of the shallow mountains. I’m exhausted and confused, but I’ve calmed down enough to come up with a plan. Carry Emery upstairs then text Stale and let him know what’s happened, see if he knows what’s wrong with Emery. See if he thinks I should take her to the hospital, and what he thinks I should do now that I’ve beaten the shit out of Evan.

  My “business” phone suddenly buzzes in my pocket, and my fingers fumble as I fish it out.

  Doc: You’ve really messed up, Ryler. I’m disappointed you let my daughter get to you like that. I warned you not to let her. Stay put. I’m headed there to pick her up and punish you accordingly.

  Fuck. I have about an hour before he shows up, and need to make sure I’m long gone before that happens.

  I turn off the engine, jump out of the car into a rain puddle, and hurry to the passenger side. I open the door, scoop up Emery in my arms, and hurry up the stairway. When I make it into her apartment, I set her down on the sofa, then race down the stairway to my apartment. The place is silent except for faint snoring coming from Luke and Violet’s bedroom. I move as quietly as I can, rushing to my bedroom, shut the door, and dig out my “personal” phone.

  Me: I found out Evan is Donny Elderman’s son. Did you know about this? Also, he injected Emery with some sort of drug tonight that made her pass out. He said something about it making her mind go off whack??? Have any idea what it is? He said it had a little heroin in it. Oh, and I don’t know how, but it seems like Evan knew stuff that Emery told me privately…

  Stale: I’m not sure about the drugs, but Donny’s been known for making experimental street drugs, so my guess is he injected her with one of those. Are her vitals okay?

  Me: Yeah, but I think I should maybe take her to the hospital.

  Stale: Make sure you’re absolutely sure before you do anything. We don’t want to risk your cover being blown. And if she’s on heroin, she could get in some trouble.

  Cover being blown. Like that fucking matters right now.

  Stale: And we’ve had our suspicions about Evan already. But we have no positive confirmation on his identity yet since there are no records of a birthdate or even a social security number linked to him. We figured he was just another nameless person Donny picked up off the street… How did you get this information?

  Me: Emery let it slip. And somehow Evan knew she’d told me, even though we were in Emery’s apartment with no one around. It makes no sense. I know Doc is the one finding out all this stuff, but I can’t figure out who’s telling him.

  Stale: I’m going to look into Evan. Do some more background searching to see if I can link him directly to Donny Elderman. If he is his son, we could bring him in. He’d know where his father’s warehouse is.

  Me: It’s not going to be that easy. He always has bodyguards around him. Tons. And I’m pretty sure they’ve got the entire house set up with some sort of high-tech alarm system. Plus, I doubt he’ll talk even if you bring him in. You know they brand silence into their kids pretty well.

  Stale: You leave Evan for me to worry about. In the meantime, keep working on Emery. And be very careful. From what you said about Doc knowing things that have barely happened, I’m guessing that it’s not someone who’s relaying the information to him, but something. My bet is that Emery’s house is bugged, which either means Doc doesn’t trust you or doesn’t trust his daughter.

  My fingers fold tightly around the phone. Shit, this is so bad.

  Me: Not sure that’s my biggest problem now since I beat the shit out of Evan about a half an hour ago.

  Stale: You did what? Tell me you’re joking.

  Me: Nope. And Doc is heading here now to punish me, and then he’s taking Emery back home. I have about an hour before he gets here. I need to run.

  Stale: Don’t run. We need to get you out of there safely. Fuck, Ryler. You really fucked this up. God dammit.

  Me: Yeah, I know, but I had to do what I had to do. And I’m not going anywhere without Emery.

  Stale: Emery’s not your problem. And we still might be able to use her. You said Doc is taking her back home. Maybe we can follow them.

  Me: No way. I’m not going to let that happen.

  Stale: This isn’t your choice anymore. Stay put. Someone will be there soon.

  Someone will be there soon. What does that even mean? I’m not about to wait around to find out.

  Shoving the phone into my pocket, I rush back up to Emery’s apartment. The moment I step foot into her living room, I know something’s wrong. The lights are off when I left them on, and Emery is no longer on the sofa. I reach behind me to grab her gun still tucked in the waistband of my jeans, but before I can grab the weapon, someone rams me from the side. The force is minimal, and I easily regain my footing.

  I whip out the gun and whirl in the direction of the figure. The moonlight shines through the sliding glass door across the room and highlights the perfectly structured features of the person who attacked me.

  My jaw drops. Emery.

  Before I can process what’s happening, she charges at me again. Not wanting her to fall and hurt herself, I allow her body to crash into mine. The impact sends me stumbling backward into the coffee table. We both hit the ground, the gun flying out of my hand. I flip to my stomach and push myself up, but Emery is already standing.

  I think about the drug Evan said he gave her, and how when she woke up, her mind might be a little off whack. I need to communicate with her, see if she’s coherent or not, but I need the lights on in order to do so.

  I sidestep and reach for the light, but she charges me again. Her head rams into my stomach, and we go tumbling down the hallway, bumping into the wall before landing on the floor with her on top of me. That stupid wooden decoration falls to the floor, and a bright red light starts flashing.

  Shit, is that where the bug is? No wonder I’ve always had a bad feeling about the thing.

  Emery is wild above me, out of her mind as she tries to scratch my face with her fingernails like she’s lost her mind on a bad trip. Then she notices the light and freezes with her hands on my shoulders and her eyes fixated on the broken object.

  “He’s going to kill me,” she whispers, and then her body slumps on top of mine.

  I slide out from under her, trying not to panic as I check her pulse. Her heartbeat has quickened, and her skin looks pallid against the limited moonlight flowing through the windows.

  Pushing to my feet, I reach for the light switch, but then stop myself. My gut instinct is telling me not to turn on the light and to get the fuck out of this house. This time I’m going to listen.

  Crouching down, I yank the bracelet from her wrist and chuck it aside, along with the package I picked up tonight. Then I slide my hands under her, carefully scoop her into my arms, and carry her out the door and downstairs to my apartment.

  Once I reach my bedroom, I kneel down beside my bed and lay her down on the mattress. Long locks of her h
air are sprawled across my pillow and her arm is resting over her stomach. Her skin still looks pale, her lips are red, and every once in a while her eyelashes flutter.

  I sit down on the edge of the bed and watch her chest rise and fall with her breaths, growing more and angrier over what’s happening. I’ve had a really shitty life. My parents were assholes. My foster parents were assholes. My one and only girlfriend was an asshole. But it feels like Emery has had it way worse. Tortured and abused, those are the two words that come to mind when I think of her. The dying rose I described can barely thrive and the petals will all be gone soon. No one will ever be able to see them anymore. I won’t be able to see them anymore.