“Shut the fuck up,” she raises her voice a little. “You’re going to tell me where my husband is.”
A small frown tugs on the corner of my lips. Nelson? How the fuck would I know where he is? A lot of things have happened since Arlo rescued me, and the topic of him never came up. Then again, it all happened in less than a week, so it’s not a surprise I never thought of asking about him.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t you lie to me.” The anger in her tone rises with each word, and she takes a step forward, forcing me to take one back. “Paul told me your little assassin boyfriend has him. Where. Is. My. Husband?”
My eyes flick to the bed where the gun is. Zoe’s eye follows my line of vision, a bitter chuckle coming from her mouth. “Don’t even think about it. You’ll be dead before you can reach for it.’’
My shoulders slump in defeat. She’s right. There’s not a chance I’d be able to grab the gun, shoot and kill her before she does the same. Slowly, I try thinking of a way out. The studio seems even smaller now that I’m backed into a fucking corner.
Stalling it is.
“Why, Zoe?” I take the smallest step back, desperately trying to create distance between us. “Arlo tried to help you.”
“Don’t you get it?” A deep, bitter laugh fills the air around us, chilling me to the bone. There’s something in that twisted, sadistic expression of hers. Something akin to regret — though it vanishes before I can pry into that. “There was never a way to help me.”
“That’s not true,” I whisper. “He would’ve helped you.”
Zoe takes a deep breath, taking another step toward me until I’m backed into the corner, my back hitting the wooden dresser. It rattles a little, the picture of Niko, Lucas, Noelle, and Hudson falling to the floor, the glass frame shattering into pieces. Zoe pays no mind and steps over the glass until our faces are mere inches away from one another.
“You can’t be that delusional, Blair.” Her voice drops to one that’s filled with pain. My chest swells with a sudden ache, and when I look at her expression, I see the younger version of myself. “There was never a way out for me. You and I are two sides of the same coin. The only difference is that you made it out. I didn’t. I never will.”
Her voice cracks, and for the first time, I get to see someone behind the mask she’s been keeping up. She’s just like me — terrified. I can see the young girl she used to be, abused, manipulated, and violated in ways no one should ever be. I can’t help the sympathy that rises inside of me when I see tears form in her eye — because her current expression mirrors my own.
Pure fucking agony.
“I don’t even remember who I was before this life, Blair,” she admits, tears rolling down her face. “I don’t remember who my birth parents were. I don’t remember where I came from, not even my real name.’’ A small laugh comes from her, bordering on painful. “Zoe is such a stupid fucking name. My husband picked it for me. And he made sure it would be the only name I’d ever know.”
“Please,” I beg, slowly reaching up to grab the gun away, but stop midway, dropping my hand back to rest next to my body. “There’s still time. Let me help you get out.”
Her body starts trembling, the hand holding the gun faltering for a split second. Tears stream down her face freely, my own following suit. This seems to be cathartic for Zoe. She’s finallyletting it all out, and all the hatred I had for her seems to disappear. She’s just a broken soul, driven to the brink of insanity. None of this was ever her fault, and she didn’t deserve any of this.
“You can’t,” she croaks. “No one can help me anymore.”
Too many emotions are on display. If she’s been manipulated, brainwashed to the point of not remembering the life she had before she was Zoe Adams, that just means that she was way younger when Nelson took her. She was younger than I was when the abuse started.
All I can see when I look at her face is a little girl, terrified, in so much misery. She doesn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, because hers has long closed. Her entire life is a black hole, and it’s swallowing her alive. Insanity, anger, and pain are all she’s ever known.
“Stay with me,” I blurt out, swallowing down the tears that threaten to spill out again. “Stay with me. I’ll help you.”
“I came here to kill you.”
I suck in a deep breath. “Are you going to kill me?”
“Yes,” she responds, though there’s slight hesitation in her tone.
Zoe straightens up, calming her trembling body. She readjusts the grip on the weapon in her hand, pointing it right between my eyes. She lifts her chin slightly, looking right into me, as if looking for something.
“Then get it over with.”
She lifts a brow. “I will, but before that… I need to tell you something. Think of it as the little kindness I can offer you.”
“Go on.”
“Everything that happened to you is because of your birth father.’’
Everything in me stills. Blood stops flowing in my veins, my mouth parting a little. Zoe doesn’t wait for me to process the information; instead, she nods, then continues talking.
