Tears spring to my eyes as I unexpectedly yearn for my old life, for Sunday night dinners when I sat across from my parents as we swapped stories. In my mind’s eye, I see them seated side by side underneath dim fluorescent lighting as the waiter lingers in the background. When I blink, Noah is sitting next to me, his hand on mine.
I exhale sharply and try to push the image away.
Longing for simpler times won’t do me any good.
I’ve burned my bridges with Noah, and although I hope he’ll understand someday, part of me knows he won’t.
As far as he and my parents are concerned, I’ve made the wrong choice.
You could’ve kept your head down and worked off your debt. Mason would’ve kept his word and kept his hands to himself, and it would’ve been just another Wednesday for you.
I could’ve been in the club, cleaning up whatever mess the patrons left behind.
And I would’ve ended the night with an ache in my bones and knots in my stomach.
Having to go through that kind of loneliness and isolation, with the crushing weight of what I had to do settling around me, still takes me by surprise now and again.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget how it felt.
Nor am I sure I want to.
It’s too late to walk away now. Even if you could negotiate your safety and your parents’, you have nothing to offer inreturn. Jack Payne is a businessman, and after all the trouble lately, he’ll want something concrete.
Convincing him won’t be enough.
Appeasing one enemy doesn’t remove the rest of the targets on my back.
I need to find something to offer our enemies that will make them forget about me, but I know I’m grasping at straws.
However, it’s the only thing that’s been keeping me sane since the night Mason rescued me.
You won’t leave Mason. You can’t, so why even entertain the idea? The minute you realized he came for you instead of leaving you to rot, your decision was made.
With a sigh, I run a hand over my face, surprised when it comes up wet.
I blink and turn away from the window.
In the tile-floored bathroom, I splash cold water on my face and grip the sink. Back in the room, there’s a low din of conversation outside. Then there’s a loud scuffle, and a shout, and fear coils in my stomach.
I glance from the door to the nightstand, willing my feet to move.
The door creaks open, and I throw myself across the room.
My hands are sweaty as I wrench the gun from the drawer and grip it with both hands. Then, I wheel and find Mason’s sister, with her long, auburn hair pulled into a braid. She glances at my gun.
My feet are unsteady as I force myself to stand and clear my throat. “I know you.”
“Do you know how to use that?”
I lower the gun. “No, but I probably should learn.”
Olivia glances over her shoulder at a scowling Katia. “Aren’t you in charge of her training?”
“I’m not comfortable holding a gun,” I say quickly, throwing it onto the bed. “She’s a good teacher.”
Olivia steps further into the room. “You must be going crazy being kept up here. Why don’t we go and sit in the library?”
I blink. “Katia said I wasn’t allowed.”
