I knew I should’ve done more. Everything felt off but I couldn’t exactly go accusing Aiden of something when all I had was assumptions and a hunch.
I kept my phone at my side as the first hour drew out. Temporarily shelving my own problems as I worried for the welfare of a friend. For a moment I wondered if the worrying was all for nothing and I was just overthinking. At least, that’s what I hoped.
Exactly an hour and 30 minutes had passed since they left the apartment. I stepped away from my phone to make a cup of herbal tea to settle my nerves when it lit up with a text. I raced back to the coffee table and swiped my phone into my hand.
There were no details in the text from Kira other than her location in Bensonhurst.
I didn’t stop to wonder why she was in Dean’s neighborhood and booked an Uber to get there. I wasn’t even sure they would still be there by the time I arrived, but it was worth a shot. Maybe I could convince Kira to come home with me instead.
The Uber slowed outside a small two-story home with yellowing white walls and weeds growing through cracks in the pavement. Mold spawned across the top half of the home, giving it a greenish hue on the wall panels, while the screen door barely hung on its hinges.
I wondered if anyone actually lived in it until I spotted Aiden’s rust-colored sedan parked in the driveway. This was his home.
This was an area of Bensonhurst I hadn’t been to, so I stepped out of the Uber with caution. The street was quiet, and the nearby homes matched the one I was approaching.
After climbing the brick steps to the porch, I stepped around the broken glass of the front light, scattered across the doormat. Every cell in my body was screaming at me to turn around.
After a quick glance through the front window on the left of the door, which provided no visual help whatsoever with the shades drawn, I squared my shoulders and knocked on the front door, causing several flakes of brown paint to flutter from the worn wood.
On the third knock the door creaked open enough to reveal half of Kira’s face — tear-streaked with a fresh deep purple bruise around her right eye.
I tensed. “Kira—”
“I shouldn’t have sent you my location.” She was pleading as her face crumpled. “You have to leave—”
“What do you think you’re doing?” Aiden’s voice grew closer to the door and Kira’s eyes widened in panic.
Without thinking, I reached for her, but she was pulled back and the door yanked open. Revealing Aiden gripping the back of her hair as his eyes filled with irritation and rage at the sight of me.
A sob escaped Kira as she begged quietly, holding onto his wrist behind her head. She whimpered when he tugged at her scalp.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Aiden growled, his other hand behind the door.
My hands were shaking. “Let her go.”
He gritted his teeth, glaring at me as he paused for a second. With a deep, sharp inhale, he revealed his other hand and the handgun in it before he pressed it to Kira's temple.
“Get inside, Lily.”
Chapter 65
Dean
No one had a clue who burned The Den down, but it was easy for most to assume it was Antonio himself, covering his tracks before the detectives could discover what was there. Nothing was left by the time the fire was extinguished. All that history, all those memories, gone for good.
Antonio had gone into hiding too and so, we remained just as quiet. Going about our regular day jobs like nothing happened. It lifted that added pressure of being a pawn in his game from my shoulders.
Guilt replaced that pressure. It clung to my insides and tore my heart into pieces. It hurt more than the cracked rib I spent the past week healing.
I couldn’t shake her heartbroken expression from my head. The way the light in her eyes, so full of hope, was so quickly snuffed out by my words.
Without The Den, there were no fights or fighters — no possible threat to her life. It made the breakup look almost pointless, but I knew it was better for her this way, even if it hurt for a little while. I would take the title of asshole ex-boyfriend of the year if it meant Lily was safe.
I seemed to be the only one who saw the logic in that decision though.
“It looked like you strung her along,” Seb muttered, arms crossed as he sunk down in the patio chair beside mine. Unable to look at me as he spoke, his leg bounced with irritation and there was a scowl on his face that hadn’t left since I told him, several minutes ago, why Lily and I were no longer talking.
Seb had invited me over to his sister’s house for a barbeque in the backyard. Apparently, I had become so reclusive as I healed and tried to figure out what I was meant to do without Lily, Seb thought I needed an intervention. In the form of a six-year-old’s birthday party.
