“God,” I muttered, scrambling to my feet. “Hang on. Don’t move.”
Knife in hand, I sprinted to the kitchen. I threw it into the sink, and then I snatched a towel off the counter and hurried back to Ash. I fell tomy knees beside him as he gasped for air. His skin was pale and sallow. I ripped off my belt and pressed the towel to the wound. Blood pulsed beneath my hands.
He moaned, eyes glassy.
“Tell me where she is, Ash,” I begged, voice shaking as I wrapped my belt around his abdomen and secured it as tight as I could. He cried out, but I had to keep as much pressure on the wound as possible. “Please.”
Ash blinked at me. “I wouldn’t have hurt her,” he whispered. “I just wanted to—keep her safe.”
“I know.” I nodded, trying to sound soothing. “I know you did. But I need to find her. I need to make sure she’s okay in case…in case something happens to you.” I stared at the towel quickly soaking up his blood.
Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He shook his head, but something blended with the fear. Surrender. His hand fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a small ring of keys. “She’s…downstairs. The basement. The room locks from the outside.”
I stared at the key. My vision started to go fuzzy at the edges. I’d been ignoring the fact that Ash wasn’t the only one bleeding. I grabbed the keys, already rising to my feet, heart pounding out of my chest. My shoulder burned. My ribs screamed. But I forced myself to move.
I was going to get to her.
No matter what.
33
Skye
Ilaidonthecold,hard floor, my body shivering. I refused to touch that pitiful mattress. The horrifying mattress. The mattress my little brother had been forced to sleep on in this dark, isolated hole for God knew how long.
Panic had long ago sunk its claws into my heart. Its icy tendrils invaded my veins and my brain, but I refused to succumb to it.
Instead, I focused on Fox. On the way he’d held me during my last panic attack. The feel of his hands and lips on my body last night. I remembered how the scent of him surrounded me as we lost ourselves in each other.
The sheer memory of him made me feel like I was stronger. Kept my head above the sea of anxiety wanting to drag me under.
I was a complete fool. It was clear to me now that I had nowhere to run. I could no longer ignore the painful, broken parts of me.
I had left all those years ago to avoid this. It wasn’t about protecting Fox from a life that I knew wouldn’t make him happy. It was always about avoiding this pain.
I had been abandoned by my mother, abused by my father. I had lost a baby I hadn’t even realized I’d truly wanted—and almost died in the process.
It was all before me now. No running. I was forced to face it without looking away.
Tears welled again, cascading down onto the dusty concrete floor.
All I wanted was Fox. I wanted his arms around me, his heart beating against mine. If anyone knew my pain—could see it and feel it—it was him.
I rested my palm over my hammering heart. Not because I was convinced it would explode and kill me, but because I wanted to remind myself that Fox had always been a part of me. Even though this heart felt so broken, so damaged, it had never once forgotten him.
The prospect of never seeing him again was agonizing.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to the dark, to the universe, hoping that some way, some how, he would hear me. “I love you.”
The silence was deafening. Suffocating.
Until something shattered it.
At first, I thought I’d imagined it. Then, the unmistakable sound of the lock clicked, echoing around me.
I bolted upright, staring at the door my brother had locked me behind. I hardened my expression, curling my hands into fists.
I didn’t want to fight my brother, but if it was my only chance at getting out of here, at seeing Fox one more time…I would do it.
