My thumb hovers over his number, my need for an answer burning through me and forcing any rational thinking right out of my head.
Think with your head, Son. Always. Never your heart. And never with anger.
Keep. Your. Fucking. Head.
Enemies will smell your weakness. The chink in your armour.
Dad’s voice is louder in my head than it usually is.
“FUCK,” I roar, desperate to drown it out, but also knowing that I need it. I need that little devil on my shoulder to stop me from doing something stupid. Something that could get me killed, or worse… her.
Scrolling away from Archer, I hit call on the person I should be talking to right now.
“Son,” Dad greets the second he picks up the phone. It’s not usual for him to answer on my first call so he must be aware that something’s going on. “I had your car collected. There’s another on its way to you.”
“Uh… thanks,” I say, not expecting those words to come down the line. “What the hell is going on?”
“We’re working on it.”
“Okay, well any chance you could hurry up? I want Luis Wolfe’s location. I owe him a bullet for this.”
“Theodore, don’t do anything stupid. Remember all the things I’ve sai—”
“I know, Dad. I am thinking with my head. But they fucking took her. They took her from me.”
“We’ll get to the bottom of it. I’ll let you know once we’ve dug something up.”
The line goes dead, and I only just stop myself from launching my phone across the room.
He didn’t even ask if I was okay. Not that I’m fucking surprised. My safety has never really been that high up on his list. As long as I’m breathing and able to work, that’s all he cares about.
Chugging down more of the vodka, I throw my phone onto my bedside table and strip out of my clothes in desperate need of a fucking shower.
I stand under the spray, jets hitting my body at all angles and massaging my aching muscles from being thrown around in my car as we tumbled off the road.
The plaster that Gianna covered the stitches on my head with quickly gets soaked through and begins peeling from my skin. I know I shouldn’t be getting it wet, but fuck it. I’m sure there are worse things I could be doing right now.
Reaching for my shower gel inside the hidden panel on the wall, I stare at the products I bought for Emmie that are still here.
Wrapping my fingers around one of the bottles, I flip the lid and lift it to my nose, breathing the scent in like a fucking pussy.
The palm of my free hand slams down on the tiles beside me in frustration.
My fingers curl around nothing as the ache in my chest that hasn’t eased since I turned my back on her and walked away earlier only gets stronger.
My need to know she’s okay, the ache I feel to pull her into my arms and tell her that I’ll never let anyone touch her again burns through me.
I hang my head low, feeling utterly helpless.
If she’s in her room right now, would her window be open for me?
Did watching me walk away hurt her as much as it did me?
Slamming the bottle back onto the shelf, I force those questions from my head.
She was partying with someone else. If I didn’t turn up when I did, there’s a very good fucking chance things would have gone further than they did.
The thought of her writhing with another guy, letting some other fucker inside her body, makes the beast inside me surge forward faster than I’ve ever experienced before.
Is she going to go running back to him? Does she care that I shot the cunt?
My breathing is ragged as I scrub at my skin until every inch of me is red raw.
Despite the pain that makes every single one of my movements hard work, I tug on some sweats and a t-shirt the second I’m in my bedroom and head for the gym.
It’s that or I’m going to find myself in Lovell, gunning for a fight with a Wolf or two.
My phone lit up every few minutes while I was in the gym, but I ignored every single message and missed call.
There was only one person I wanted to talk to, and I had a feeling that her name was never going to flash up on my screen.
I just turn the lights out after climbing into bed, every single muscle in my body screaming in pain, when my phone illuminates the room once more.
Lifting it up, I glance at the screen, expecting it to be another message from Seb. I almost drop the thing when I discover I’m wrong.
Very wrong.
Just seeing her name there once more makes all the air rush from my lungs.
She hasn’t turned this phone on since I took it from her, preferring to ignore all the messages and voicemails I left her after she disappeared.
Quickly unlocking it, I open her message, not giving a fuck that it’ll show as read almost immediately. I’m over pretending that I’m not sitting here thinking about her.
Hellcat: Theo?
My heart pounds as I stare at those four little letters.
It’s just my name. It means nothing. She could be about to say anything, but they still give me a little hope.
At least I know she’s okay.
Theo: Yeah.
I feel like a fucking preteen talking to a girl for the first time. It’s pathetic. But that’s what she does to me. It’s what she reduces me to. She always has. I just always fought it, hoping that I could push past it. Put her behind me. Forget about her.
A laugh falls from my lips as I think about how naïve I was back then.
I had no clue of the kind of power she had over me.
Hell, I still don’t truly know the depth of it, but I’m starting to think it’s pretty fucking deep.
The dots keep bouncing, making me wonder if she’s writing a fucking essay. So when the message does finally pop up, my eyes widen in shock at its simplicity.
Hellcat: I’m sorry.
“Shit,” I breathe, my phone continuing to shake in my grip as the weight of those two words presses down on my shoulders.
I sit there for so long, staring, that the screen goes dark.
What the hell do I say to that?
How could I even begin to put into a message how I’ve felt these past few weeks?
Theo: Me too, babe. Me too.
I cringe when I read the words back. But what can I say?
I’ve told so many lies, hurt her in too many ways. Nothing I can tell her now is going to make her forgive me, allow her to forget everything that’s gone before.
Does it make me a pussy not to even try? Not to fight?
Maybe.
But for once in my goddamn life, I’m going to do the right thing.
Emmie isn’t some kind of pet, a belonging I can just keep to myself no matter how badly I might want her.
I can’t force her to want me. Or at least to admit to herself that she wants me, because I know she does.
I feel it every time we connect. Whenever we’re close.
She’s mine. I just need to think about showing her in a different way from what I’m used to.
Locking her up in my castle certainly didn’t work.
Fucking stupid fairy tales Larissa and Rhea used to force me to watch.
Sliding down the bed, I let my body sink into my memory foam mattress and sigh. The only thing that would be better right now would be if she were here beside me. Hell, even across the hall locked in my guest room would be better.