Morgan knelt beside me, her hand moving in small circles between my shoulder blades. “Are you?” she asked. “I mean, do you think you might be pregnant?”
You’ll be the woman who carries my babies, slugger…
Sweat. Saliva. Tears. They all looked the same as they fell against the toilet seat.
“I’m still a virgin,” I admitted, squeezing my eyes shut against the sudden bloom of pain in my chest. I’d been so close to real happiness. To being loved and cherished.
I stood up and rinsed my mouth before turning back to face her. She was still kneeling against the tile, her mouth slack. “But I thought—”
“Brad was going to rape me. I didn’t stop to think about the repercussions—I just said it. How could I have been so stupid? I should have let—”
Morgan shook her head. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. This is all my fault, Ari. I pushed you on Killian, thinking it would save you from this, but I only made things worse.”
“I love him.” I winced and pressed the heel of my hand over my heart. The physical wounds on my body would heal, but the emotional trauma would linger. Every time I looked in the mirror, I’d see the coward who gave up an innocent man.
Her expression sharpened. “Then don’t do this—don’t go through with it. Killian will go to jail—lose his career—everything!”
I looked down, pleading with my eyes, needing her to understand why I was making this impossible decision. “I know, but Tristan has people watching him. He talked about—” I cleared my throat, determined not to cry.
“He talked about how easy it would be to make someone’s death look like an accident. From hacking the car’s computer to running someone down as they’re crossing the street. You know as well as I do what he’s capable of. This was the only way I could save him.”
Morgan’s forehead creased, pulling her eyebrows together. “What if there was another way?”
“There’s not,” I said, having spent the last forty-eight hours exhausting every option. “I’m damned either way. Look, I’ve accepted that I’ve lost him forever, but at least this way he gets a chance to move on someday.”
She glanced down at her watch. “And is that what you want—for him to move on?”
“I just want him to be safe. If I knew of another way—one where he didn’t get killed, go to jail, or lose baseball—” I sucked in a ragged breath, squeezing my fists until my fingernails dug into my palms. “I’d do it, but there’s nothing.”
“We’ve still got time,” Morgan responded cryptically before standing up to lead me back into my room. Instead of letting me climb back into bed, she shut off the lights and dragged me over toward the door.
My breath caught as I stumbled over a shoe lying on the floor. “Morgan—what are you doing?”
After tapping her index finger lightly against the wood three times, she clapped a hand over my mouth, her eyes suddenly glossy. “Do not speak. Do not scream. Nod if you understand.”
I shook my head, my nostrils flaring with short bursts of air as I gripped her arms. No one had ever said I couldn’t leave my room, but the lock on the outside of the door had implicitly implied I was a prisoner.
“Listen to me,” she whispered. “I was supposed to be in the car that night. Tristan set the entire thing up, knowing I was the only one who drove the convertible. You were never the target. I was. And I need you to trust me right now, okay?”
The handle turned, but the hallway was completely dark. A towering figure leaned in and my heart pinged against my ribcage when Morgan pushed me into his waiting arms. I knew it was a man, I could tell by the build, but his identity was a mystery.
I didn’t realize I was whimpering until his palm moved over my mouth, where Morgan’s had been just moments before. “Fifteen minutes,” he hissed.
Her head bobbed in a nod before she leaned in to press a kiss to my temple. “I love you, Ari.”
My eyes bulged in response because it sounded like goodbye. I tried looking back as the man hauled me down the hall, but she’d already disappeared into the shadows.
We bypassed the main staircase and slipped through the doorway leading to the staff wing. Blood pumped furiously through my veins, pleading with me to escape.
Morgan wanted me to trust her yet hadn’t told me where I was being taken. For all I knew, she’d handed me over to Brad so he could finish what he started. A shiver wracked my body as I considered the possibility, before mentally talking myself down.
She’d asked me to trust her.
The man might have been holding me in a firm grip, but he’d deliberately avoided the bruised areas on my neck and torso, proving he wasn’t Brad.
My breaths grew raspy as we moved down a hidden flight of stairs, but he didn’t even seem winded. I blinked back the tears and focused on my surroundings. As long as I knew where we were, I was still safe. He took turn after turn with a familiarity that could have only come from living or working here. But if he was acting on Tristan’s orders, there’d be no reason to sneak around.
The kitchen was as dark as the rest of the house, yet he navigated the layout without once slowing. When we reached the door leading outside, he leaned down to my ear. “Don’t run.”
I nodded shakily, exhaling through my nose.
My captor released his hold on my shoulder to enter something into his cell phone. The deadbolt slid back with a low musical tone, and then we were outside.
We crept along the perimeter of the house, avoiding the lights mounted along the top of the wall. I managed to trip over my own two feet, craning my neck to get a better look.
It was Dean, the only member of my father’s security team who didn’t look like he murdered people on a daily basis. Although, without his signature smile, he seemed just as frightening as the others.
As if reading my panicked thoughts, he shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting. “I’m not going to hurt you, Ariana.”
I wondered if they’d told Ashlynn the same thing.
My lungs suddenly demanded more oxygen, but I inhaled too fast, leaving me feeling sick. I tried again, still unable to draw enough air through the tight band around my chest.
“No one’s going to hurt you—not while I’ve got you, okay?”
I clutched at my chest, seeing black spots as I gasped for my next breath.
Dean removed the hand from my mouth, spinning my body to face his. “Purse your lips—good. Now, breathe in slowly.” He gently repeated the words while leading me farther from the house.
We pushed through a clump of Hollywood Juniper shrubs, coming face to face with a hidden door tucked into the back portion of the wall. He stopped to punch another series of numbers into his phone until it opened with a soft click.
Under the streetlights, I could easily see the gun holstered at his side. Even if I put everything into making a break for it, a bullet was faster. Morgan had wanted me to trust her. It was why I’d believed Dean when he lied and told me he wouldn’t hurt me.
I was an unnecessary risk—a threat to the lifestyle they’d all grown accustomed to.
My voice was surprisingly steady as I whispered the same words I’d once heard my mama say. “He’s going to kill me.”
Sadness clouded his features, but he forced a smile. “Not without going through me, he won’t. You’re mine.”
“N-n-no,” I stammered with sudden realization, unable to make myself say the words as I began backing away. It was somehow sicker than the thought of being murdered on Tristan’s orders. “I won’t do that—please!”
I’d been treading water since I got back, fighting to stay alive—to have a say in what happened to my body—only to have it end just steps from the wall.
Dean grimaced and immediately began shaking his head. “No, no, no. That came out wrong,” he rushed out, his tone gentle but firm. “I’m married—happily married, I might add. Besides, my wife could probably kick both our asses, blindfolded.”
I swallowed around
the knot in my throat. “Then, why bring me out here?”
“Look, Ariana. I know what they did to you. I should have known when he brought you back and dismissed the guards from the house.” He shifted his jaw from side to side, avoiding my glare. “And I know what they’re going to try to force you to do. I just need you to trust me here, okay?”
My teeth came together in agitation. “Trust you? You’ll forgive me if I’m struggling with the concept right now. The last forty-eight hours have proven that no one can be trusted.”
“I’m the one who helped you escape the first time—”
“And?” I challenged, trying to make my tone seem indifferent as my heart began to beat wildly in my chest. “Where was I going?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know that—”
Of course not.
“What kind of a security guard are you?” I interrupted with a sigh, unable to hide my frustration. “And you want me to trust you? You work for Tristan. For all I know, you were the one responsible for my ‘accident.’”
He watched my tirade with a lifted brow before admitting, “I was tasked with keeping you safe, and I’ve failed twice now. I don’t intend to fail again.”
“By whom?” I argued, my chin raised. “Tristan? Nice try, but the good pastor doesn’t care about my safety, as evidenced by… well, I guess my entire life.”
Dean cut his eyes over to me in a quick glance before crossing the street, effectively ending our conversation.
“Seriously?” I complained as I reluctantly followed, my mind weighed down with more questions than answers. If he wasn’t operating under Tristan’s orders, then who was he working for? Where was he taking me? Was any of it going to save Killian?
Until he was willing to talk, I could only speculate.
A twig snapped beneath my shoe, and I realized we were following the same path I’d taken the day I saved Killian.
We reached the clearing, and I brought a hand up over my mouth, tensing against the memories washing up along the shore. I’d spent the first couple of years with my nose pressed to the window in the library, searching for his face among the colorful blurs dotting the water. After a while, it became too painful to look, a dark reminder of a life I’d never have.
“Ten minutes, and then we have to go.”
I lifted my eyes with a frown. “But you still haven’t told me why we’re out here.”
“Ariana.” Dean pointed behind me, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. “Ten minutes. I’ll be right over there, waiting for you.”
Someone had fixed up the old dock, adding lights and a railing on either side. I sucked in a breath when I saw the man looking out over the water, and my mind fell silent for the first time in days.
Killian.
Less than ten feet away from me.
I wanted to run to him, but something in the hard set of his jaw told me I couldn’t. Instead, I dragged my feet over the sand, every bit the peasant girl who’d fallen in love with a prince.
Two different worlds—I’d known it then, but I felt it now.
He didn’t look up when I stepped onto the dock, just continued watching the lazy ripples along the surface of the lake. The hood of his jacket hid his profile, but I’d seen the unshaven dishevelment as I approached. I wondered when he’d last slept or eaten something of substance but kept the questions to myself.
My footsteps faltered when I reached his side. I lifted my hand, aching to touch him, to make him real again. For several seconds, my fingers dangled in the air between us, but then his shoulders rounded, snuffing the dying embers of hope from my chest.
“I can’t look at you, Ari,” he quietly admitted, his body bristling with tension. “If I do, I’ll forget what I came here to say.”
Killian wasn’t mine—not anymore.
I lowered my hand back to my side, feeling the water close in, pulling my body down into its dark depths. This entire time, I’d been holding my breath. For him. I opened my mouth and exhaled, the swarm of bubbles tickling my nose as they drifted up. I watched them go, racing toward the light shimmering along the surface, but I’d never belonged up there.
It grew colder as I sank, seeping into my bones and bearing down on my heart. Where I expected death, I continued drawing shallow breaths, as if some unseen force beyond explanation was keeping me alive.
Just one more choice that wasn’t mine to make.
“I feel stupid, you know?” he mused bitterly to the water. “The fucking fool who’d let himself believe that maybe there really was a God—some higher power who broke me, so I’d find you.”
“And now?” I choked on the words, searching for the smallest hint that the man who’d loved me was still in there.
Loved.
Past tense.
Was there anything sadder than the stark reminder that eventually everything ran out?
Time.
Affection.
It seemed the only thing I’d hold onto would be the insurmountable pain of losing him. Maybe that would be the burden I carried in this life.
I’d spent the last ten years wondering if I could ever mean something to him like he had me. I did, just not like I imagined. I would forever be a symbol of destruction, the woman who ripped everything he loved away from him.
The muscle in his jaw ticked as he bit out, “I told you I believed in myself. When you asked me about miracles, I told you it was all bullshit. So, you know what? If there is a God, then I imagine he’s probably having a pretty good laugh at my expense right now. I’m getting what I deserve. My biggest sin was pride. I was filled to the fucking brim with it, and now, I’ve got nothing.”
“I know I’ve hurt you,” I said softly, my eyes brimming with tears.
“Hurt?” Killian roared suddenly, squeezing the railing until his arms shook. “Are you fucking serious? Blowing out my knee hurt, Ariana! This is in an entirely new stratosphere!”
I rubbed my eyes but stayed silent. I’d wanted to make him real, but this didn’t feel like a victory. His pain was indistinguishable from mine; my heart simply incapable of telling the difference.
The urge to hold him was overwhelming, like the call of a siren. With that in mind, I wrapped my arms around myself and walked farther out onto the dock, giving him my back.
“I broke every one of my goddamned rules for you,” he drawled with a bitter chuckle. “Every. Single. One. Then, as I’m being arrested—which, by the way, thank you so very much for that—I find out it was all a lie!”
His footsteps moved closer, but I honored his request and didn’t turn around. He deserved the right to purge his rage, to force me to listen to the chaos I’d created in his world. I’d take it, even if his every word felt like a knife sliding under my skin.
“You told me you were scared of your father yet failed to mention he was Tristan fucking James. I should have figured it out when you kept bringing up religion.” Killian paused, and I didn’t need to turn around to know he was drinking. I could hear the liquid splashing against the inside of the bottle.
“Was it a game to you—making me believe you were afraid?”
“I was afraid. I still am.”
“Bullshit,” Killian spat, letting the bottle fall to the deck with a thud. “Of what? Growing up in a mansion? Having your entire music career handed to you by your father’s church? Tell me, Ariana. What the hell do you know about actual fear?”
My spine stiffened, and I cocked my head to the side, catching him out of the corner of my eye. “Why’d you come? And of all places, why here?”
Killian positioned himself at my back, close enough that I could feel the heat of his body. If I rocked back, my hips would be resting against his thighs. We’d been in an almost identical position just two nights ago in front of his bathroom mirror.
“I thought it was only right that we end where we started,” he slurred against my ear, the scent of hard liquor stinging my nostrils.
Killian was drunk.
Broken.
/>
Because of me.
“I want you to have to stand in the spot where you saved me and explain why you lied. I want to ruin this place for you, so you can’t come back without remembering tonight. I want to rip you apart like you’ve done me.”
“You’re scaring me,” I whispered, turning back to the water.
“Good. Now you know what it feels like.” The dock creaked as he leaned in to deposit my necklace on the railing, before pulling away again. “I think this is yours.”
He could have just as easily launched it into the water but hadn’t because he wasn’t a bad person.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, scooping the necklace into my palm and tucking it into my pocket. There was nothing left for me to say because my words meant nothing. I meant nothing.
Little waves splashed against the same wooden pilings that had held his body ten years ago. As I peered down into the lake, I was almost convinced I’d find him there again, but the murky water gave nothing away.
My heart had been racing for the past forty-eight hours, stuck in an endless loop of fight or flight. Now, weakened by hunger and exhaustion, I found myself contemplating suicide. It was a solution I hadn’t considered, but the only one that would save us both. Killian would keep his career, and I’d finally be free.
The water was freezing, I doubted I’d be able to last more than fifteen minutes. It’d be fitting, really, to sacrifice myself in the same spot I saved him. Like I was exchanging my life for his, setting things right. Maybe the good parts of me were still down there, caught under the dock, awaiting my return.
Would my body surrender easily, or continue to fight to stay alive because it was all I’d ever known?
I gripped the railing in my hands until my knuckles went white under the bright lights, wondering if there was courage in giving up.
He took a deep breath, close enough that it lifted several strands of hair from my braid. When he spoke again, his voice was low and taunting. “You’re sorry? For which part—lying about being engaged or accusing me of rape? I just want to be sure I have it right for my lawyers.”
I released a strangled breath, unable to fight the tears coursing down my cheeks. The silent sobs were a depth of pain beyond measure, a frequency of grief humans weren’t capable of hearing.
Through The Water: Fairest Series Book Two Page 32