Frayed Obsession, page 23
“Are you already glistening and ready for me?” He leans in, speaking the words against my lips.
A flush of warmth spreads through me, and I know he’d find me exactly as he describes. He’s barely even touched me, and my body is thrumming with need.
Sebastian hums low in his throat like he’s contemplating turning his words into actions, and I squeeze my legs together with anticipation.
I’m so close to begging, but before I can lose the battle with myself, he pulls back, groaning as he adjusts his very clearly aroused length again.
He gives me another heated glance before disappearing down the hall, and I’m left standing in the lounge room, my breath coming hard and fast and my underwear completely soaked through.
Sebastian returns not long later, wearing a fresh shirt, his hair wet from a shower. And I’ve mostly got myself under control, but the warmth in my belly lingers.
“I’ll be late tonight. I have to catch up on some things at work.”
“Okay.”
“We’ll go for a run tonight, okay?” he says to Shadow, patting his head when the dog walks sleepily over to him. “I already put his food out,” he says, bringing his attention back to me. “I’ll ask Mason to come up early and take him out.”
“I can do it,” I say slowly. I don’t want to bother Mason. He already spends all his break time taking Shadow out. Usually, I go with him anyway. It’s nice to get out of the penthouse, and I enjoy his company.
He stares at me, his brows drawing low over his eyes, and I fidget under his attention. “I don’t want you out by yourself,” he says, but instead of commanding, his voice is wary. Concerned.
I swallow, shocked at his reaction.
He’s worried about me?
“It’s only out front. I’d be okay, Sebastian,” I say as much to reassure myself as to reassure him.
I’ve been down a couple of times by myself, but there’s still a little part in the back of my mind that worries something could happen, as much as I try to suppress it. “And I’ll have Shadow too,” I say, though I still question his guard duty abilities.
Sebastian’s quiet for a moment before he gives a slight nod, though I can tell he’s not happy about it.
My thoughts from last night about telling Sebastian everything filter back through me, and I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
Come on, say something.
“Sebastian, ah… I…”
“Hmm?” he says, glancing at his watch.
“I…” I sigh. “I’ll see you tonight.”
He lifts his eyes, searching my face. “What is it?”
“Oh, nothing important.” I try for a smile, but it doesn’t feel too convincing. “It can wait.”
He keeps studying me, and I squirm under the intensity. Glancing at his watch again, he makes an annoyed sound. “Shit, I really have to go,” he says, but he doesn’t move, still focussed on me like he’s trying to figure something out.
When he finally does, I sag into the couch, leaning my head back and staring at the high ceiling.
Now to figure out what I’m going to say to him.
It’s late when Sebastian finally gets back to the penthouse, and I jump up from the couch when I hear the lift ding.
It’s going to be fine.
Wringing my hands together, I replay everything I need to say in my head. Nausea permeates my stomach, but I push through it.
I step towards him as he moves further into the penthouse, and his head lifts when he notices me. He looks even more tired than he did last night, and I hesitate.
“Are you okay?” he asks, now only a few metres away from me.
“Sebastian, I—”
His phone rings, cutting me off.
Sebastian pulls it out of his pocket, and his nostrils flare at whoever’s name appears on the screen.
“What?” he snaps.
He stills at whatever the other person says, his muscles tensing—his demeanour changing from his initial annoyance to being completely focussed on what’s being said.
“I’m on my way,” he says, his voice too calm for how strained his body is.
Sebastian hangs up, his gaze finding mine, but what I see in his eyes sets me on edge.
“I’m sorry, I have to go,” he says, his voice almost detached. “Will you be all right?”
I nod, and before I can even say anything, he’s gone.
Returning to the couch, I run my hand over Shadow’s head, trying to calm my nerves, but I can’t seem to get rid of the sinking feeling in my stomach.
Something doesn’t feel right.
I’ve seen Sebastian mad, but this was something different.
About twenty minutes later, the lift dings, and I jump up, rushing towards it. Except it’s not Sebastian.
“Where’s Sebastian?” I ask as Easton walks into the penthouse.
“Busy,” he says. “You need to come with me.”
I take half a step back from him. “Why?”
“Do you really think you have a choice?” he sneers, and I swallow thickly.
I don’t think Sebastian would let him hurt me, but I still don’t trust Easton.
“Let’s go,” he says. “I won’t ask again,” he adds when I don’t move.
With no other options, I go with him.
The lift carries us down, and my mind runs with all the possibilities.
“Grace, are you okay?”
I look up to see Mason standing in front of us in the parking garage, his brows furrowed.
Easton’s shoulder bumps into mine when I stop, and I feel him tense behind me.
“Mason, what are you doing here? I thought you finished for the day.”
“I left something in the office. I came to get it.” He looks between Easton and me, his gaze assessing and serious.
“We’re late,” Easton says, matching Mason’s stare, and I can feel the tension between them.
“Grace?” Mason asks without looking at me, his gaze narrowing ever so slightly at Easton.
“It’s fine, Mason,” I say, and he looks back at me.
I know Mason has no idea about the deal I made with Sebastian, and my throat feels thick.
Could this have something to do with our deal?
Sebastian said I wasn’t allowed to leave until he found the killer—
The phone call.
My stomach drops.
Surely Sebastian wouldn’t let me go without saying goodbye, not after the past few days.
Would he?
Unless he didn’t want to be there.
But my things are still in the penthouse. My journal. My camera.
No, he wouldn’t do that to you.
I swallow hard.
“Are you sure?” Mason asks.
Easton makes a sound of annoyance.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” I say, surprised at how steady my voice is when I feel like I’m falling apart inside.
Easton leads me to his car, and I can feel Mason’s eyes on us the whole time.
The engine roars to life, but I don’t pay attention to where Easton drives us, my head spinning.
I only look out the window when we come to a stop, and Easton shuts off the car.
A large warehouse sits nearby, and my heart starts to race.
“Where are we?”
“Out,” Easton says, ignoring my question.
I hesitate, but where else am I supposed to go?
Getting out of the car, I look around, but there’s only black nothingness. I could make a run for it. My ankle isn’t completely healed, but I could run if I needed to.
The only problem is, I have no doubt Easton would be on me in a second.
Easton grabs my arm, his grip hard, leading me towards the warehouse.
Oh, God.
What if they never planned to hold up their end of the deal?
Easton lets go of me when we reach the door. There’s a single dim light above it, and when Easton moves to open the door, I catch the sight of a gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans, part of his t-shirt caught so it’s not fully covered.
I take a step back.
And another.
But it only takes a second for Easton to open the door.
He holds it open for me, waiting.
My steps are slow and reluctant, but I enter the building, the door shutting behind me.
At least the lights are on inside.
I’m about to ask Easton again what we’re doing when I hear his voice.
“Sebastian,” I whisper.
Relief washes through me. If I can just see him, I’ll know everything will be okay.
My steps quicken, moving towards his voice, but when I round the corner, I grind to a halt at the sight.
Sebastian stands with his back to me, sweat staining the back of his shirt and his fists clenched at his sides. But that’s not what has the colour draining from my face.
A man sits in front of Sebastian, his arms and legs tied to the chair. His face is covered in blood, one of his eyes nearly swollen shut—the same blood staining Sebastian’s hands.
Stumbling back, I crash into Easton.
“Watch her,” he says to someone before joining Sebastian.
He’s so close, but my feet won’t move.
“Who ordered the hit?” Sebastian demands.
The guy spits at Sebastian, blood spattering everywhere.
A sickening crunch echoes through the empty space as Sebastian’s fist connects with his face, and I jump.
Blood soaks the guy’s grey t-shirt, and his head drops forward, a stream of red pouring from his mouth.
Sebastian grabs him by the hair, yanking his head back, and he groans in pain.
“Tell me!”
When the man only bares his teeth, Sebastian pulls his fist back before slamming it into the man’s face again. Then again. And the sound of bone crunching sends bile racing up my throat.
I jolt with each one, feeling the blows as if I’m the one receiving them.
I try to blink through my blurred vision as my head spins, but then all I can see is him in front of me. His fists rain down on me, over and over and over again until I’m nothing but a pile of broken bones on the ground.
A phone rings behind me, but I can’t take my eyes off the scene in front of me, and heavy footsteps sound until they’re too far away for me to hear.
“I know it wasn’t a robbery. So who the fuck hired you?”
Sebastian’s voice tries to pull me back, but my vision flicks between the warehouse and him.
A whimper falls from my lips.
“I don’t know!” the man yells.
A scream penetrates the air, and my heart crashes against my ribs when I see the knife sticking out of the man’s thigh, just above his knee.
Blood streams from the wound, pooling on the hard concrete floor.
So much blood.
I blink again.
Blonde hair, stained red.
Stumbling back, my vision waivers, and the scene morphs before me.
The man isn’t there anymore—instead, a woman sits in his place.
But, instead of her thigh, blood pours from the wide gash in her throat.
No. No. No!
Her body spasms as she chokes on the very thing that should keep her alive, and I jump when blood splatters from her mouth.
Oh, God.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I blink them open again.
The blonde-haired girl is gone, and the man pants, crying out in pain.
“He’ll kill me!” he pleads.
“There’s no question of you dying tonight,” Sebastian says, and the man whimpers, dropping his head—his shoulders shaking. “It’s only a matter of how quickly.”
Easton grabs the handle of the knife and twists his arm. Hard.
The man howls, the sound reverberating off every wall.
I can’t breathe.
I suck in breath after breath of air, but none of it reaches my lungs.
“Deveigne!” he cries. “It was Deveigne.”
I claw at my throat, stumbling backwards.
My back crashes into a wall, the hard corner digging into my spine, but I hardly feel it.
Throwing myself around the corner, I stumble towards the door, my vision hazy. My hands slap at the door, fumbling for the handle. Swinging the door open, I fall to my knees from the momentum.
Quickly, I scramble to my feet and spin around, disoriented and still trying to suck air into my lungs.
Run.
I feel wobbly on my legs, but I have no choice.
I need to run.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Emery
Bursting through the lobby entrance, I head straight for the lifts and press the call button.
My mind is a foggy mess. I can barely put the pieces together of how I got back here.
“Hey! You!” Someone shouts from behind me. “You haven’t paid, bitch!”
The angry footsteps get louder, and I slap my hand over the button again.
More footsteps rush towards me from the other direction, and my chest tightens.
“Miss Grace. Are you okay?”
“I-I…”
“You need to back up right now,” a stronger voice says.
“She ran off without paying! She owes me fifty fucking dollars!”
“Miss Grace?” the man at my side asks again.
“I just need to get upstairs,” I say, my voice uneven and shaky.
“Are you hurt? Should I call Mr. Reed?”
“No!” I yell. “I mean, no. I’m fine. I just really need to get upstairs.”
There’s some more arguing behind me, but I’m too focussed on trying to keep myself together.
“Here, take your money and get the fuck out,” the strong voice says as the doors open, and I dive in.
I press the button for the penthouse, but nothing happens. I bite my lip, attempting to hold in the sob trying to break through and press the button again.
Looking up, both the man who had been beside me and the other man, the one with the strong voice, who turns out to be one of the security guards, stare at me through the open doors.
“Please,” I whisper.
I can only imagine what I look like.
Like a crazy person, most likely, but I don’t even care. I just need to get to the penthouse.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” the guard asks. “Do you need me to call anyone?”
“I’m fine,” I say.
He glances over me again before reaching in and pressing his key-card to the reader, and the button for the penthouse lights up.
“Please call down if you need anything, Miss,” he says, releasing his hold on the doors, and they finally slide shut.
I sag against the wall as the lift carries me up to Sebastian’s penthouse.
When the doors open, Shadow runs to me, but I don’t stop— my body trembling as I make my way through the penthouse on unsteady legs.
Pushing through the door to my room, I grab my backpack and start throwing the few things I have into it.
I can’t get the image of Sebastian out of my head.
His fists are dripping in blood.
The screams.
I’m going to be sick.
I just make it in time to empty my stomach into the toilet, tears streaming down my face as I heave. I shudder when it finally ends, my body crumpled on the ground in front of the toilet. There’s no time to stop. I don’t know how long I have until Sebastian or Easton realises I’m gone and comes looking for me, but I can’t make my limbs work.
Now that I’ve stopped, my ankle throbs almost as bad as it did when I first hurt it.
Taking long, deep breaths, I slowly unfold myself from the floor, wincing at the pain. I turn on the tap and scoop some water into my mouth but quickly spit it out when it makes me want to vomit again.
The last thing I want to do is look at myself, but my eyes lift to the mirror of their own accord. My skin is clammy and pale, and my hair hangs in a messy, half-undone braid. My eyes are dull, and I turn away from the mirror, hating that whenever I look at them, all I see are his eyes.
Returning to my room, I throw the last couple of things in my bag before pulling the chair out and fumbling for my journal on the top shelf of the wardrobe.
I make sure it’s tucked securely away in my backpack, so there’s no chance of it falling out this time.
One last thing.
Sliding the top drawer of the bedside table open, I—
Where is it?
I open the other drawers, searching for my camera.
When it’s not there, I go to the other side of the bed and pull open those drawers as well.
Nothing.
I groan, not sure I can take on any more emotions right now. A tear slips down my face because I know I’m going to have to leave without it. It might’ve been broken, but it was still hers.
The only thing I had left.
Shadow whines from the doorway, and my heart aches.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
But it aches even more, knowing I’m leaving Sebastian as well.
Throwing my backpack over my shoulders, I head straight for the lift, and it opens immediately, not having left the floor. Taking a deep breath, I step inside.
Shadow barks, and I jump, but I don’t turn around. Because if I do, I’m not sure I’d be able to make myself leave, no matter the consequences that would await.
The doors slide shut, and I take the lift to the garage floor so I don’t have to go through the main foyer.
The street is relatively quiet, being a Tuesday night, and I easily get a taxi, making sure I have money on me this time. It’s not much, but it should be enough.
It’s only a five-minute drive to Obsidian, but in this state, it would have taken me forever to walk there.
A bouncer stands at the front entrance, and a newfound determination flows through me. I wouldn’t have thought they’d be open to the public at all tonight, but the only thing that had kept me going was the small hope there might be someone inside.
A flush of warmth spreads through me, and I know he’d find me exactly as he describes. He’s barely even touched me, and my body is thrumming with need.
Sebastian hums low in his throat like he’s contemplating turning his words into actions, and I squeeze my legs together with anticipation.
I’m so close to begging, but before I can lose the battle with myself, he pulls back, groaning as he adjusts his very clearly aroused length again.
He gives me another heated glance before disappearing down the hall, and I’m left standing in the lounge room, my breath coming hard and fast and my underwear completely soaked through.
Sebastian returns not long later, wearing a fresh shirt, his hair wet from a shower. And I’ve mostly got myself under control, but the warmth in my belly lingers.
“I’ll be late tonight. I have to catch up on some things at work.”
“Okay.”
“We’ll go for a run tonight, okay?” he says to Shadow, patting his head when the dog walks sleepily over to him. “I already put his food out,” he says, bringing his attention back to me. “I’ll ask Mason to come up early and take him out.”
“I can do it,” I say slowly. I don’t want to bother Mason. He already spends all his break time taking Shadow out. Usually, I go with him anyway. It’s nice to get out of the penthouse, and I enjoy his company.
He stares at me, his brows drawing low over his eyes, and I fidget under his attention. “I don’t want you out by yourself,” he says, but instead of commanding, his voice is wary. Concerned.
I swallow, shocked at his reaction.
He’s worried about me?
“It’s only out front. I’d be okay, Sebastian,” I say as much to reassure myself as to reassure him.
I’ve been down a couple of times by myself, but there’s still a little part in the back of my mind that worries something could happen, as much as I try to suppress it. “And I’ll have Shadow too,” I say, though I still question his guard duty abilities.
Sebastian’s quiet for a moment before he gives a slight nod, though I can tell he’s not happy about it.
My thoughts from last night about telling Sebastian everything filter back through me, and I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
Come on, say something.
“Sebastian, ah… I…”
“Hmm?” he says, glancing at his watch.
“I…” I sigh. “I’ll see you tonight.”
He lifts his eyes, searching my face. “What is it?”
“Oh, nothing important.” I try for a smile, but it doesn’t feel too convincing. “It can wait.”
He keeps studying me, and I squirm under the intensity. Glancing at his watch again, he makes an annoyed sound. “Shit, I really have to go,” he says, but he doesn’t move, still focussed on me like he’s trying to figure something out.
When he finally does, I sag into the couch, leaning my head back and staring at the high ceiling.
Now to figure out what I’m going to say to him.
It’s late when Sebastian finally gets back to the penthouse, and I jump up from the couch when I hear the lift ding.
It’s going to be fine.
Wringing my hands together, I replay everything I need to say in my head. Nausea permeates my stomach, but I push through it.
I step towards him as he moves further into the penthouse, and his head lifts when he notices me. He looks even more tired than he did last night, and I hesitate.
“Are you okay?” he asks, now only a few metres away from me.
“Sebastian, I—”
His phone rings, cutting me off.
Sebastian pulls it out of his pocket, and his nostrils flare at whoever’s name appears on the screen.
“What?” he snaps.
He stills at whatever the other person says, his muscles tensing—his demeanour changing from his initial annoyance to being completely focussed on what’s being said.
“I’m on my way,” he says, his voice too calm for how strained his body is.
Sebastian hangs up, his gaze finding mine, but what I see in his eyes sets me on edge.
“I’m sorry, I have to go,” he says, his voice almost detached. “Will you be all right?”
I nod, and before I can even say anything, he’s gone.
Returning to the couch, I run my hand over Shadow’s head, trying to calm my nerves, but I can’t seem to get rid of the sinking feeling in my stomach.
Something doesn’t feel right.
I’ve seen Sebastian mad, but this was something different.
About twenty minutes later, the lift dings, and I jump up, rushing towards it. Except it’s not Sebastian.
“Where’s Sebastian?” I ask as Easton walks into the penthouse.
“Busy,” he says. “You need to come with me.”
I take half a step back from him. “Why?”
“Do you really think you have a choice?” he sneers, and I swallow thickly.
I don’t think Sebastian would let him hurt me, but I still don’t trust Easton.
“Let’s go,” he says. “I won’t ask again,” he adds when I don’t move.
With no other options, I go with him.
The lift carries us down, and my mind runs with all the possibilities.
“Grace, are you okay?”
I look up to see Mason standing in front of us in the parking garage, his brows furrowed.
Easton’s shoulder bumps into mine when I stop, and I feel him tense behind me.
“Mason, what are you doing here? I thought you finished for the day.”
“I left something in the office. I came to get it.” He looks between Easton and me, his gaze assessing and serious.
“We’re late,” Easton says, matching Mason’s stare, and I can feel the tension between them.
“Grace?” Mason asks without looking at me, his gaze narrowing ever so slightly at Easton.
“It’s fine, Mason,” I say, and he looks back at me.
I know Mason has no idea about the deal I made with Sebastian, and my throat feels thick.
Could this have something to do with our deal?
Sebastian said I wasn’t allowed to leave until he found the killer—
The phone call.
My stomach drops.
Surely Sebastian wouldn’t let me go without saying goodbye, not after the past few days.
Would he?
Unless he didn’t want to be there.
But my things are still in the penthouse. My journal. My camera.
No, he wouldn’t do that to you.
I swallow hard.
“Are you sure?” Mason asks.
Easton makes a sound of annoyance.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” I say, surprised at how steady my voice is when I feel like I’m falling apart inside.
Easton leads me to his car, and I can feel Mason’s eyes on us the whole time.
The engine roars to life, but I don’t pay attention to where Easton drives us, my head spinning.
I only look out the window when we come to a stop, and Easton shuts off the car.
A large warehouse sits nearby, and my heart starts to race.
“Where are we?”
“Out,” Easton says, ignoring my question.
I hesitate, but where else am I supposed to go?
Getting out of the car, I look around, but there’s only black nothingness. I could make a run for it. My ankle isn’t completely healed, but I could run if I needed to.
The only problem is, I have no doubt Easton would be on me in a second.
Easton grabs my arm, his grip hard, leading me towards the warehouse.
Oh, God.
What if they never planned to hold up their end of the deal?
Easton lets go of me when we reach the door. There’s a single dim light above it, and when Easton moves to open the door, I catch the sight of a gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans, part of his t-shirt caught so it’s not fully covered.
I take a step back.
And another.
But it only takes a second for Easton to open the door.
He holds it open for me, waiting.
My steps are slow and reluctant, but I enter the building, the door shutting behind me.
At least the lights are on inside.
I’m about to ask Easton again what we’re doing when I hear his voice.
“Sebastian,” I whisper.
Relief washes through me. If I can just see him, I’ll know everything will be okay.
My steps quicken, moving towards his voice, but when I round the corner, I grind to a halt at the sight.
Sebastian stands with his back to me, sweat staining the back of his shirt and his fists clenched at his sides. But that’s not what has the colour draining from my face.
A man sits in front of Sebastian, his arms and legs tied to the chair. His face is covered in blood, one of his eyes nearly swollen shut—the same blood staining Sebastian’s hands.
Stumbling back, I crash into Easton.
“Watch her,” he says to someone before joining Sebastian.
He’s so close, but my feet won’t move.
“Who ordered the hit?” Sebastian demands.
The guy spits at Sebastian, blood spattering everywhere.
A sickening crunch echoes through the empty space as Sebastian’s fist connects with his face, and I jump.
Blood soaks the guy’s grey t-shirt, and his head drops forward, a stream of red pouring from his mouth.
Sebastian grabs him by the hair, yanking his head back, and he groans in pain.
“Tell me!”
When the man only bares his teeth, Sebastian pulls his fist back before slamming it into the man’s face again. Then again. And the sound of bone crunching sends bile racing up my throat.
I jolt with each one, feeling the blows as if I’m the one receiving them.
I try to blink through my blurred vision as my head spins, but then all I can see is him in front of me. His fists rain down on me, over and over and over again until I’m nothing but a pile of broken bones on the ground.
A phone rings behind me, but I can’t take my eyes off the scene in front of me, and heavy footsteps sound until they’re too far away for me to hear.
“I know it wasn’t a robbery. So who the fuck hired you?”
Sebastian’s voice tries to pull me back, but my vision flicks between the warehouse and him.
A whimper falls from my lips.
“I don’t know!” the man yells.
A scream penetrates the air, and my heart crashes against my ribs when I see the knife sticking out of the man’s thigh, just above his knee.
Blood streams from the wound, pooling on the hard concrete floor.
So much blood.
I blink again.
Blonde hair, stained red.
Stumbling back, my vision waivers, and the scene morphs before me.
The man isn’t there anymore—instead, a woman sits in his place.
But, instead of her thigh, blood pours from the wide gash in her throat.
No. No. No!
Her body spasms as she chokes on the very thing that should keep her alive, and I jump when blood splatters from her mouth.
Oh, God.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I blink them open again.
The blonde-haired girl is gone, and the man pants, crying out in pain.
“He’ll kill me!” he pleads.
“There’s no question of you dying tonight,” Sebastian says, and the man whimpers, dropping his head—his shoulders shaking. “It’s only a matter of how quickly.”
Easton grabs the handle of the knife and twists his arm. Hard.
The man howls, the sound reverberating off every wall.
I can’t breathe.
I suck in breath after breath of air, but none of it reaches my lungs.
“Deveigne!” he cries. “It was Deveigne.”
I claw at my throat, stumbling backwards.
My back crashes into a wall, the hard corner digging into my spine, but I hardly feel it.
Throwing myself around the corner, I stumble towards the door, my vision hazy. My hands slap at the door, fumbling for the handle. Swinging the door open, I fall to my knees from the momentum.
Quickly, I scramble to my feet and spin around, disoriented and still trying to suck air into my lungs.
Run.
I feel wobbly on my legs, but I have no choice.
I need to run.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Emery
Bursting through the lobby entrance, I head straight for the lifts and press the call button.
My mind is a foggy mess. I can barely put the pieces together of how I got back here.
“Hey! You!” Someone shouts from behind me. “You haven’t paid, bitch!”
The angry footsteps get louder, and I slap my hand over the button again.
More footsteps rush towards me from the other direction, and my chest tightens.
“Miss Grace. Are you okay?”
“I-I…”
“You need to back up right now,” a stronger voice says.
“She ran off without paying! She owes me fifty fucking dollars!”
“Miss Grace?” the man at my side asks again.
“I just need to get upstairs,” I say, my voice uneven and shaky.
“Are you hurt? Should I call Mr. Reed?”
“No!” I yell. “I mean, no. I’m fine. I just really need to get upstairs.”
There’s some more arguing behind me, but I’m too focussed on trying to keep myself together.
“Here, take your money and get the fuck out,” the strong voice says as the doors open, and I dive in.
I press the button for the penthouse, but nothing happens. I bite my lip, attempting to hold in the sob trying to break through and press the button again.
Looking up, both the man who had been beside me and the other man, the one with the strong voice, who turns out to be one of the security guards, stare at me through the open doors.
“Please,” I whisper.
I can only imagine what I look like.
Like a crazy person, most likely, but I don’t even care. I just need to get to the penthouse.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” the guard asks. “Do you need me to call anyone?”
“I’m fine,” I say.
He glances over me again before reaching in and pressing his key-card to the reader, and the button for the penthouse lights up.
“Please call down if you need anything, Miss,” he says, releasing his hold on the doors, and they finally slide shut.
I sag against the wall as the lift carries me up to Sebastian’s penthouse.
When the doors open, Shadow runs to me, but I don’t stop— my body trembling as I make my way through the penthouse on unsteady legs.
Pushing through the door to my room, I grab my backpack and start throwing the few things I have into it.
I can’t get the image of Sebastian out of my head.
His fists are dripping in blood.
The screams.
I’m going to be sick.
I just make it in time to empty my stomach into the toilet, tears streaming down my face as I heave. I shudder when it finally ends, my body crumpled on the ground in front of the toilet. There’s no time to stop. I don’t know how long I have until Sebastian or Easton realises I’m gone and comes looking for me, but I can’t make my limbs work.
Now that I’ve stopped, my ankle throbs almost as bad as it did when I first hurt it.
Taking long, deep breaths, I slowly unfold myself from the floor, wincing at the pain. I turn on the tap and scoop some water into my mouth but quickly spit it out when it makes me want to vomit again.
The last thing I want to do is look at myself, but my eyes lift to the mirror of their own accord. My skin is clammy and pale, and my hair hangs in a messy, half-undone braid. My eyes are dull, and I turn away from the mirror, hating that whenever I look at them, all I see are his eyes.
Returning to my room, I throw the last couple of things in my bag before pulling the chair out and fumbling for my journal on the top shelf of the wardrobe.
I make sure it’s tucked securely away in my backpack, so there’s no chance of it falling out this time.
One last thing.
Sliding the top drawer of the bedside table open, I—
Where is it?
I open the other drawers, searching for my camera.
When it’s not there, I go to the other side of the bed and pull open those drawers as well.
Nothing.
I groan, not sure I can take on any more emotions right now. A tear slips down my face because I know I’m going to have to leave without it. It might’ve been broken, but it was still hers.
The only thing I had left.
Shadow whines from the doorway, and my heart aches.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
But it aches even more, knowing I’m leaving Sebastian as well.
Throwing my backpack over my shoulders, I head straight for the lift, and it opens immediately, not having left the floor. Taking a deep breath, I step inside.
Shadow barks, and I jump, but I don’t turn around. Because if I do, I’m not sure I’d be able to make myself leave, no matter the consequences that would await.
The doors slide shut, and I take the lift to the garage floor so I don’t have to go through the main foyer.
The street is relatively quiet, being a Tuesday night, and I easily get a taxi, making sure I have money on me this time. It’s not much, but it should be enough.
It’s only a five-minute drive to Obsidian, but in this state, it would have taken me forever to walk there.
A bouncer stands at the front entrance, and a newfound determination flows through me. I wouldn’t have thought they’d be open to the public at all tonight, but the only thing that had kept me going was the small hope there might be someone inside.
