He thought I left him on that cliff to die, indirectly killing him. Attempted. He didn’t die. So it’d been an attempt.
I gripped my head in my hands, pulling my hair, hoping to drag the idea that he was behind it out because everything kept fitting perfectly the more I thought about it. It kept making sense. I didn’t have a lot of friends, and he was the only one that might—this won’t do.
I stood up and threw anything on, my body shaking with the possibility. I would die if he’d been the one sabotaging my life. If he wasn’t, he could help me find out who. Hell, it could be this strange man leaving me letters.
So why did my mind keep sliding back to him? I had to ask him.
20
AINSLEY
SIX YEAR AGO
How did I get here?
Where was I?
Why was it so dark?
I shifted slightly, feeling the solid surface beneath me. The ground. I was lying on a cold, hard ground, and something rough was over my head. A sack? My heart raced as I tried to piece together what had happened.
The last thing I remembered was going outside for air. It had been late—around eleven. The room had felt stifling, and I was drenched in sweat from yet another nightmare.
The school had taken us on a short trip, and we were supposed to return tomorrow after staying for three days. The others in the room were asleep, the lights out, and I’d just needed a moment to breathe.
But then…what?
I winced, a dull ache throbbing at the back of my head. Someone had hit me. Yes. From behind. The hazy memory flashed through my mind—something heavy, sharp pain, and then the sensation of being lifted off the ground, thrown over someone’s shoulder. That was the last thing I remembered before everything went black.
Panic surged through me as the realisation hit. I’d been kidnapped.
My breathing quickened, and I jerked upright, yanking the sack off my head. Blinking against the faint light filteringthrough the cracks in the warehouse walls, I tried to make sense of where I was. It was a warehouse, large and damp, with the scent of rust and mildew thick in the air.
Pain throbbed through my skull, but I pushed it aside, forcing myself to stand. My legs were shaky, and I felt slightly off balance, but I managed to grab a nearby stick for support. Limping towards the metal door, I reached for the handle, praying it would open. No such luck. It had been locked from the outside.
Fear twisted in my chest. I couldn’t scream. What if the person who took me was still nearby? I couldn’t risk alerting them. Instead, I hobbled away from the door, searching the dark corners of the warehouse for another way out. Then I saw something.
Blood.
Tissues.
And…my stomach turned violently—brains. Someone’s head had been smashed. The blood was fresh. And it was everywhere.
My kidnapper had recently killed someone.
I was next.
The horror gripped me, cold and fierce. Gritting my teeth, I forced down the bile rising in my throat and stumbled back to the door. This time, I didn’t care about being quiet. I pounded on the metal furiously, desperate for someone—anyone—to hear me.
Suddenly, I heard it. The lock outside clicked. My heart hammered in my chest, and I stepped back, clutching the stick tighter, ready to defend myself.
The door creaked open, and I held my breath, expecting the worst. But it wasn’t the kidnapper.
It was Theon.
I froze, shock and confusion flooding my body. The worried look in his eyes told me he wasn’t here to hurt me, but my knees nearly gave out from relief all the same.
“Are you okay?” He was breathing heavily, genuinely concerned. How...how—
