Aweek I’ve been stuck in this room. Away from the world with nothing but silence. Any time I turn on the TV, I see my picture plastered all over it. Along with the other nine that passed away that night.
People have gone to what’s left of Blackout and started shrines with flowers, pictures, and candles. I just want to scream that I’m alive and that someone tried to kill me.
If I’m being honest with myself, I think it was my father. I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s a man of action, and Ryat was right. My husband publicly humiliated him. His name. Degraded my family.
Why kill Tyson when he can just kill me? I’m the easier target. The trash that needs to be taken out. I’m the child who betrayed the Minson name by falling in love with the enemy. But I can’t figure out why my father hates him so much? I don’t believe that Tyson killed my sister. But what I don’t understand is why would my father send Luke to do the job? Why not have the balls to kill me himself? Maybe it’s my mother. He doesn’t want my mom to think he killed her daughter.
I look up when the door opens, and my husband enters. He’s wearing a plain white T-shirt and jeans with a pair of Nike’s. It’s weird seeing him so casual. Tyson always dresses in slacks and button-ups when working at Blackout. Ryat brought us some clothes last night, along with new cell phones.
I was surprised that it actually had Blakely’s number in it. That he’s going to let me talk to his wife. I guess since I’m officially dead, I’m no longer a threat.
Tyson comes to stand next to me and lowers a tray to the bed. “Hungry?” he asks, leaning down and gently kissing my forehead.
“No,” I say honestly, staring at the pudding cup. My eyes fall to my hand, and I numbly run my thumb over where my ring once was. It’s gone. Luke took it. I know it’s just a ring, but I want it back. Why take it? Just because I don’t have a ring doesn’t mean I’m not married. He did it out of spite, and I hate him even more for it.
Tyson frowns but doesn’t push it.
My collar is also gone but Tyson explained that he removed it for my surgery. He also made it sound like I’ll never wear it again. I’ve been stripped of two things that I never wanted but now don’t want to live without.
“Tyson?” A guy pokes his head into the room. His bright green eyes go from mine to my husband’s. The man is covered in ink, from his jawline to his knuckles. He wears a long sleeve T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, but you can tell there’s more under the material. I’ve never met him, but I know his name is Saint. “We’ve got an issue that needs your attention.”
“What is it?” I ask, wondering what he means. Ryat comes and goes; Tyson hasn’t left, and these three guys come in and out of my room to talk to him privately. I know my husband is keeping secrets from me but why?
“I’ll be right back,” Tyson tells me, avoiding my question. He then kisses my forehead before turning and exiting the room.
I jump up and put my shoes on that sit by the bed. I’m going crazy in here, and I’m tired of being in the dark. I can only spend so much time taking a shower and watching TV. I deserve to know what is going on and how long this is going to be my new life.
Opening the door, I catch sight of the back of them walking side by side down the hallway. I wait for them to turn a corner before I gently shut my door and follow them. Once in the hallway, I take a quick look around, and it doesn’t look anything like a hospital outside of my room.
It’s cold but brightly lit. Lights hang from the ceiling as I run down the hallway. Coming up to the corner, I turn and slowly look around to see them getting into an elevator. I see it’s lit up to go down. I wait for it to close and then run down to the staircase next to it.
I make my way down to the lower level, noticing we were on level two. I gently push the door open and let out a long breath. I can see it puff out from my mouth. The temperature is even colder down here, making me shiver.
They push open a door and enter a room. I tiptoe and come up to it. There’s a window at the top and I try to lean up on my tiptoes to see through it, but it’s frosted. “Dammit,” I hiss.
When I go to turn the knob, a hand lands on my shoulder, making me scream out as I turn around.
“You look lost,” a man says to me. He’s one of them. Kashton is one of the three Spade brothers. He’s also covered in tattoos. “What were you doing?” he asks.
I jerk my arm out of his hold. “I’m looking for my husband.” I had overheard Ryat ask Tyson if he thought I was safe here, and he said yes. After I watched him on TV fighting off the cops in the parking lot of Blackout when the club was on fire, I know my husband wouldn’t put me in any danger. Not now.
Kashton smirks and reaches up. I gasp, thinking he’s going to pin me against the door, but instead, he uses his hand to open it. I fall backward into the room.
“Let me go,” the man growls, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up at the sound of his voice. I’ve heard it before. Recently.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Tyson tells him, shaking his head.
“You can’t keep me here forever.” The guy circles around, watching Saint and my husband as if one of them is about to pounce on him.
“Not until you tell me everything you know,” Tyson informs him.
“I don’t know shit!” he screams, the sound bouncing off the concrete walls.
“That’s not true.” I step forward, speaking.
At the sound of my voice, Tyson’s eyes meet mine. They’re cold. Unforgiving. They narrow on me as if I’m the one in the wrong here. “What do you mean, Lake?” my husband demands.
“That’s him.” I point at the guy who is slowly stepping back into the corner of the room. Wide eyes on mine.
