I couldn’t stop the SUV from taking his life. For that, I was too slow, too naïve, and too under-prepared to change a tragic outcome. For the rest of my life, I know a part of me,a large part, will wish I’d died, too. The thought of skipping through the afterlife with my brother is far more welcoming than my current situation, bleeding and hurt, being carried through an evil man’s mansion while another, perhapsmoreevil man, hopes and salivates at the thought of taking my body against my will.
I know Ryan tried to keep me safe. He protected me, even after death, and provided a sanctuary for me to escape to. Hegave me everything I needed via those pages. Love. Apologies. Truth. He gave me a safety net and hope for a better future.
But hedidn’tgive me a name.
Just as Arabella Aster was a stubborn woman led by her heart, even at the cost of her own life, I, too, choose love over freedom. I choose family and loyalty over a phony existence. Ryan neglected to tell me Richard’s last name—whether by design or mere oversight, I don’t know—but he gave me the clues I would need, and the forewarning that Richard would send someone to finish what they’d started.
I never needed to search for the man responsible for annihilating my entire bloodline. All I had to do was sit and wait. Patience and a plan. Richard Aster would make the introductions on his own, and I would follow the trail right back until I could return the favor.
Aster’s daughter is dead, and soon, he will be too.
His judgment day is coming.
Fuck Richard Aster.
I could have carried sympathy for the man who lost his child to brutality, if not for the fact that he brings the same to others.
“Can you hear me?” Lincoln tightens his arm around my ribs. His other hand clutches my thigh, so I know exactly where I’ll have bruises. “Nova?”
His voice is barely more than a whisper. I crack my eyes open, and though he speaks, his lips hardly move. “Nova?”
“Mm.” I’m not sure if my dizziness is fabricated anymore. Nor my fatigue. But I muster a grunt that painfully claws at my stomach. “Awake.”
“I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?” His stride grows a littleslower, allowing a few extra feet between Tank and us. “I’m gonna get you out of here.”
“Kay.” I close my eyes and slump in his arms. “Just need to rest a second.”
“I’m sorry you got caught up in this,” he rasps. “I’m gonna make it better.”
“In here.”
Tank’s deep voice sends tingles along my spine and down to my toes. Maybe I came here with grand plans to exact revenge, butthatdude scares me. The viciousness in his eyes and the savagery of his intentions. He terrifies me.
“Let me take her.” Tank’s hand wraps around my arm. His fingers dig into my biceps, and his breath slams against my face. “I’ll deal with her?—”
“No.” Lincoln yanks me back, painfully stretching my limb because of Tank’s tight grip. If I die today, it’ll be with Tank’s fingerprints marking my skin. “I said no!” Lincoln shoulder-checks the monster and stalks into a bedroom of luxurious furniture. A massive four-poster bed stands proud in the center of the room, with silky covers and lovely sheer drapes that, in any other circumstance, could be romantic.
Unfortunately, inthiscircumstance, all I see are columns to be tied to. A bed strong enough to withstand Tank’s furious intent. Sheets that may soon bathe in my blood.
A prison is still a prison, no matter how pretty it is. And death is still death, even if I lie upon the finest mulberry silk.
“You’re not coming in,” Lincoln growls, releasing my legs until I fall with a squeal, though his supporting arm stabilizes me. He presses his newly freed hand to Tank’s broad chest. “Get the fuck out.”
“Aster assigned her to me.” Tank’s menacing dark brown eyes burn my flesh. “She’s mine.”
“Aster just gave me my seventh day.” Lincoln takes a step back, supporting my weight, and grabs the door. “Don’t come in here ‘til I have the fuckin’ code. If you step across the threshold and ruin my progress, I’ll feed you to Aster’s dogs myself and make sure the old man knows who fucked this up for him.” He whips the door closed, the heavy, thick wood slamming noisily against the frame, then he flips the lock and sweeps me up again.
“You knew.” He carries me toward the bed, fury and fear an overwhelming concoction emanating from his pores and seeping into mine. But his hands are gentle as he lays me down, his touch is feather soft. “You knew who I was, Nova. What I was doing. Why I was there.” With a shaking hand, he brushes hair off my face and leans over me. “You knew, and you let me in anyway.”
“Needed to know who hurt Ry.” I’m too tired to argue. Too exhausted to get up and run. But hell, I gather enough strength to trail my fingertips over his stubbled jaw. “I gave you a bunch of chances to screw me over, but you didn’t.”
He chokes out a devastated laugh. “And I tried to cut you free. I didn’t want to know where you would go, or the identity he’d set up for you.”
My eyes flash. My heart skips.
“If I didn’t know, it couldn’t be tortured out of me.”
“You read the letter.” Tears well in my already stinging eyes, pooling in the corners until they dribble over my temples. “The first one. You saw it?”
