‘Good fucking riddance,’ Zayden hisses, turning on his heels and stalking inside.
Anya stomps after him, cheeks red, the colour creeping down her neck. My heart launches into my throat as I follow them, anxiety swirling in my chest – I can see where this is going, and I have no idea how to protect either of them.
‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ she explodes at her brother’s retreating back.
‘What’s wrong with me?’ he snaps, whirling around and slamming a hand to his chest. ‘Me? What is wrong withhim? What is wrong withher?’
‘I don’t understand!’ she shouts, tears racing down her cheeks as she stares pleadingly at Zayden. ‘This has been going on for ages, and no one is telling me shit! I have no idea what the hell has happened, and I’m sick of being left in the dark!’
‘He fucking hit me!’ Zayden shouts at her, and she flinches, recoiling, her hand going to the part of her chest where her heart beats. ‘He cheated on Mum. I saw it, I confronted him, and he beat the fuck out of me.’ Her mouth falls open as she stares at him. Running a hand through his hair, Zayden stares at the ground, then back up at her. My heartbeat is loud in my ears as I look between the two of them. ‘He almost fucking killed me.’ Zayden stops, turning to the wall, pressing his hand against it as he struggles to get the words out. ‘He grabbed me, and he ... he ...’ He gasps for breath and leans onto the wall for support. ‘He told me if I breathed a word of it, if I did anything, he would go to you next.’
My head snaps to Zayden; he never told me that part. My eyes shift slowly to Anya, who looks as if she’s just seen a ghost. She sags against the wall, dropping to the floor as she stares up at her brother.
Zayden swallows. ‘He held me down by my throat. The next morning, I told Mum everything.’ He stops, his jaw ticking. The silence in the room is loud and unsettling. Goosebumps prickle uncomfortably against my skin, and my stomach churns. ‘She said that it wasn’t true, and I must have dreamt it.’
Anya’s hands fly to her face, leaving only her wet, wide eyes to stare back at her brother.
‘I showed her the bruises on my fucking neck,’ he continues, voice a mere broken whisper. ‘My face was banged up. I had bruises all down my arm. I told her what he did to me. She said if I ever spread a lie like that again, she would kick me out of the house. I wasn’t a fucking child. She knew I was telling the truth and didnothing.’ He released a sharp, cold bark of laughter. ‘So I saved her the trouble. Never been back there since. Did you notice that whenever he was back from work, I would come home and take you to a friend’s? Convince you to crash somewhere else, anywhere else?’
Anya doesn’t move or speak. She stares numbly ahead, looking frozen in time.
‘You can go,’ he says, running his tongue across his teeth, his face returning to its previous stoic expression. ‘You should go. Someone needs to. But I’m not going with you.’ Pushing off the wall, he starts to walk away, before turning back to look at her. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t do it.’
Again, her mouth opens, but no words come out. Zayden shrugs and looks coolly down at her.
‘He might have only just died, but he was dead to me long before then.’
31
MASON
Three Years Earlier
LAST NIGHT WAS A BLUR.My head is a foggy mess. Some parts are clear as crystal, but for others I can’t quite put all the pieces together. All I do know is that I fucked up. Royally. I ruined Anya’s birthday, and Zayden is going to fuckingkillme.
I need to get out of here.Now.
I’ve been saving for this; I’m prepared. I need to book my flights and go. Everything else can be sorted out later.
Still dressed in last night’s clothes, I stumble to the shower and rinse off the essence of her. The pressure in my chest feels like someone is standing on top of me, cutting off my oxygen supply.
After my shower and a strong coffee, I sit down at my laptop and read over my notes. I have everything mapped out: where I’m going and for how long. I just need to arrange the flights and book the hotels and Airbnbs. Slamming my palm into my head, I smack myself once, twice and three times. I can’t get her out of my fucking head. Last night, her mouth on mine, feeling what it was like to be inside her, I felt such a burning, intense lust for her that it fried my brain, making me lose all sense of rationality.
Is it all because I’m not allowed to have her? Because there is a forbidden nature about the whole thing? Is it because she’s always around and I know how she feels about me? Is it that cat and mouse game we like to play?
No, I think, groaning.It’s a lot more than that.
I’ve never met anyone like her.
The ache I have for her is severe and exhausting, and I’m sick of it. I need to go far, far away and clear my head. Start fresh and get away from all this. I can’t face her. Not after what I did. I can’t handle seeing those round, innocent eyes stare up at me, filled with anger, hurt and betrayal.
I’m a goddamn coward.
The first flight I find isn’t ideal. It’s long, with two stopovers in random countries, but it’s cheap and I can leave tonight. I slam my finger down on the mouse, securing one of the final seats on the plane.
The weight on my chest lifts. The tiniest bit, anyway.
I’m getting the fuck out of here.
