Every single part of him is a reminder I can’t bear to look at, but I can’t bear tolose.
I claw at him as he wraps his arms around me and carries me to the bedroom, sidestepping the ceramic shards.
“I hate you.” I’m crying, deep, shuddering sobs ripping from my chest. “I wish it wasyou.”
I regret the vile words as soon as they fall from my mouth. Vitriol pours from me far too easily now. “Chess—,”
“I know you do.” He easily pins me down to the bed, ripping away the sash of my robe and using it to tie my wrists to the fucking bedpost as I fight with him. “And it kills me that I can’t bring him back for you, Lyss. I’d swap us in a fucking heartbeat to fix this.”
The words only force more angry tears from my eyes.
I yank at the sash, my mouth tightening when it doesn’t budge. I glare up at Chess as he turns for the door. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now? Starve?”
“Call your concierge,” he says shortly. “Martin. You’ve fucked him too, haven’t you? I’m sure he’ll be only too happy to let you out.”
My mouth falls open, irrational hurt piercing my chest at his barbed words. Even though I’ve said worse, much worse. And maybe… maybe I did let him think that. “I haven’t. Slept with Martin, I mean.”
He inhales, turning back to face me. His eyes, a mix of brown and green, that distinctive amber outline, stares at me.
“I know. But you still slept with someone that wasn’t me. And losing you like this, piece by piece… it hurts almost as much as losing Adam.”
He tips his head toward the small table I keep beside my bed, my phone on the top. “You think I don’t know you keep a knifein there? You can still reach it, so cut yourself free. You get stuck, call someone else.”
He’s leaving. And he’s taking the card with him. “Don’t you dare walk out of here.”
But this time, he doesn’t stop. He ignores me. Chess doesn’t look back as he leaves me there and walks out of my apartment with the only clue I have to my brother’s death in his hand.
And I… I don’t call him back. My apology sticks in my throat along with all the others, warring with anger and sadness that I can’t seem to push aside long enough for us to talk through the grief that separates us.
Letting out a breath, my head thumps back into the pillow. I wait until I hear the sound of the elevator doors sliding shut before I reach for the knife, cutting through the sash of my favorite robe.
And then I grab a notepad, scribbling down the address embedded in my head.
***
After my second shower of the day, I sit on my couch with my hair dripping down my neck and stare down at the paper in my hand.
It’s not an address I recognise. Opening up my laptop, I type it in and look over the information that comes up.
It’s in the warehouse district. Not an area in our territory. Spades, if I remember correctly.
If I called Rab, he’d be able to confirm—
No.
I haven’t spoken to him since the day I packed up my shit and walked out on my family inheritance. When he ran after me, begging me not to go, and I left him there as I got on my bike and left them all behind.
Everyone except Chess, who refuses to let me go.
Swiping my hands over my face, I consider my options.
Wonder.
The most exclusive club in the city – when it’s here. And the most elusive.
Always on the move. You could get there one night, then turn up the next and the whole place would be packed up and transported somewhere new, leaving only an empty shell behind.
It’s said to be magical. Enchanting. Another world.
