Even after months of trying to bury those nights—buryher—Emersyn still bled through.
I woke in tangled sheets, my heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to break out of me. Sunlight leaked through the cheap curtains, cutting the room in half with sharp golden lines. For a long moment, I lay there completely still, afraid to move, afraid that if I did, Logan would be standing in the corner of the room with his crooked smile that always promised pain. But he wasn’t. Not yet.
I was alive for now, and that had to be enough.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
acelynn
The humof Astoria’s car filled the silence as we sped down the highway. The desert rolled endlessly on either side, flat, wide, and blinding under the afternoon sun. My seat belt cut across my chest like a shackle, reminding me with each bump that no matter how fast we drove, I couldn’t outrun what waited behind us.
The faint smell of Astoria’s vanilla lotion clung to the leather seats. A half-drunk cup of coffee sloshed in the cupholder, its bitter scent fighting with the sweetness. Normally, I found comfort in these things. Familiarity. The simple markers of a happy life. But today everything felt warped—too bright, too sharp, like staring at the world through broken glass. Astoria’s voice filled the space, rapid and bubbly. She was retelling the plot of the latest dating show she had been watching, words tumbling too fast, as though if she stopped speaking, the silence would swallow us whole. I stared out the window, watchingthe desert shimmer. My reflection stared back at me, pale and haunted, lips pressed thin as if they could hold back the tide of everything I hadn’t said.
“Acelynn.” Astoria’s tone snapped through the hum of the car radio. “Are you even listening?”
I blinked, dragging my gaze from a cactus outside. “Yeah,” I lied softly. “The guy picked the Kansas girl, then changed his mind. Isn’t that against the rules?”
She huffed, sharp and humorless. “Producers don’t care about rules. They want drama.”
Drama. The word made my stomach twist. Logan wanted drama too. Only his was blood and violence and ruin. A week had passed since he’d cornered me, his voice thick with promises of what he’d do if I didn’t cooperate. A week of sleepless nights, of weighing lies against truths that could get me killed. He wanted to destroy the Knights. A mission I had been trying to get myself to complete for the months I had been around them. But, damn, did each and every one of them make it difficult for me to hate. Or maybe that was just my heart not allowing me to fall into the darkness it was destined to inherit from my DNA. I knew now that if I gave Logan anything that could hurt any of the Knights, it would destroy me. But if I didn’t…
I pressed my nails into my palm until they left little half-moons. I needed to hear Kaius’s voice. I needed to anchor myself to him before I drowned.
“I need to call Kaius,” I murmured, pressing my fingers to my temple. The words slipped out before I could stop them, raw and desperate. My hand reached out, ready to disconnect my phone from the CarPlay I had been using to stream my music.
The vehicle slowed at a red light. Astoria’s hands froze around the wheel. Her grip turned bone-white, the tendons in her hands standing out like wires.
“Kaius?” she repeated slowly, dangerously.
“Yes, you know, your brother?” My voice trembled. I couldn’t look at her as I ripped off the giant bug-eyed sunglasses that covered my face to see the car’s screen better. “I have to tell him…”
But I didn’t know what. That Logan had found me? That I wasn’t Acelynn at all but Emersyn Spade? That I’d been lying every day of my life since the night Alec died? When I finally glanced at her, her eyes were knives.
“You have five seconds,” she said, her voice soft, lethal. “To tell me why your eyes look like Alec Spade’s.”
The name hit like a gunshot. My breath stopped, my chest collapsing in on itself.
My lips moved before my brain could stop them. “Because Alec Spade was my brother.”
Astoria’s chest rose sharply. For a second, a crack appeared in her mask, grief flickering raw in her expression. But it was gone as fast as it came, replaced by stone.
“Continue.”
“Tori—”
“Don’t,” she hissed, “call me that.”
The light above us turned green. A car honked behind us, swerving around with an angry horn blast, but Astoria didn’t flinch. She was coiled tight, jaw clenched, waiting.
Tears blurred my vision, the desert outside smearing into colors. “That night—I didn’t know what Alec was planning. I swear to god, Astoria, I had no part in it. I didn’t lie about that to you. Not after that first night. You’re all I’ve had.”
Her breathing was uneven, but her eyes stayed merciless. “Does he know you are still alive?”
The words were a death sentence. Because I couldn’t tell who we were talking about. Kaius or Alec. Which was stupid since I saw my brother on the morgue table, saw that his chest never rose or fell with life. But then again, Parsons had been the one toshow me my dead brother, the same detective who was so clearly playing both sides. If Logan or Alec or whoever the hell was above them orchestrated this, then it had all been for nothing. I was again just a pawn in their chess game, being moved around to gather information for them. But how would Astoria know this?
“Who?” I asked, voice deadly quiet.
Astoria’s face lost all its color, realizing her mistake the moment I demanded a name. She shook her head and turned back to the road. She accelerated quickly, not caring about the speed limit. I watched the speedometer climb past eighty-five, and my stomach dropped.
