I cut through the outdoor cinema to a huge bay window and glance in. The place looks fucking dead inside. A home like this should have staff wandering around everywhere, maids dusting and groundsmen pruning, but nothing. It feels cold and lonely and I’m left wondering if Skylah’s whole life has been like that or if it’s just like this now while Lucien is laying low.
I look around for some sign of movement, something that tells me that Skylah is here, but there’s nothing. No lights on, no sound, not even a scrap of dirt that suggests someone’s been in here.
I keep walking.
“SKY?” I holler.
I may as well let myself be known. They know I’m here anyway and now they need to know that I’m not about to back out without a fight. “VIRAGO? Where are you?”
I glance up at the second story. That’s going to be an issue. This isn’t some Romeo and Juliet scene where I have a balcony I can climb. There’s literally nothing. If I want to check the second story, I have to get inside.
I have to walk out into the grass to keep going and as I glance in the next window from afar, I finally find her. She's sitting at a desk, looking at something to the side of the room.
“SKYLAH,” I yell.
Her head whips around and even from here, I see the tears heavy in her eyes.
Sky flies up off the desk chair and runs to the window, throwing her hands against the glass. She looks fucking terrified. There’s only been one time I’ve seen her looking like that and that was when we were in the middle of the fucking river, struggling to free ourselves.
Something’s wrong.
I start running and as she screams, Lucien steps out in front of me, gun held high, aimed right at my chest.
I come to a startling halt, my hands up and raised as my eyes flick between Lucien and Skylah. As she scrambles to unlatch the window, someone steps in behind her, raising a gun to the back of her head.
Oh, no, no, no, baby. Don’t you fucking move.
I need to get her out of here.
Skylah pauses, not moving a single muscle in her body. We’re at a fucking loss here. I’m more than willing to risk my life to save hers. I would lay my life down for her any fucking day of the week, but I will not put her in harm’s way like this. I fucking refuse. If I knew she would have ended up with a gun at her head, I would have stayed at home. I would have found another way.
I don’t know what the fuck to do.
If I move, Lucien won’t hesitate to shoot me. If she moves, she dies and I can guarantee if she gets shot, I’ll end up dead because there’s no way in hell that I’ll have the strength to hold back from trying to kill these motherfuckers myself.
I meet Skylah’s eyes. They’re so fucking beautiful, so full of love, and the promise of an incredible future, but they’re also fucking terrified. For the first time, I’m starting to believe that I might never see her again.
All I know is that right now, we’re both fucked.
Chapter 6
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!
How did we get into this situation?
Why the hell would he be so stupid? Why did he come here?
I stand with my hands against the window and a gun trained at the back of my head, silently begging Slade to walk away. If he doesn’t move, if he just stops looking this way and promises to never come back, Lucien just might let him go.
He needs to let him go. I need him to let Slade go.
How am I ever supposed to go on knowing that Slade was killed here today? It’s one thing being able to survive knowing that he’s living a full and happy life. I could at least breathe knowing he was living his dreams, having all the babies in the world, and marrying a beautiful supermodel. Him not living at all? I couldn’t survive that. I couldn’t get up every day in a world that he didn’t exist in. I could never forgive myself for bringing him into this. Slade deserves so much better.
He should have just stayed at home. What did he think was going to happen when he walked in here? He came strutting in, jumping the fence like he’s broken into a million properties and started making his way around the place as though he owned it.
Maybe he was doing it on purpose, trying to draw Lucien out. If that was his plan, it worked like a fucking charm. Judging by the panic in his eyes though, I can assure you that he hadn't planned this. I’d do anything to throw myself out of this window and run to him, but it’s never going to happen. I’ll be shot before I even get my fingers curled around the latch and Slade would be shot just for the sake of it. After all, there’s nothing quite like letting a loose end get away.
Keeping his gun held high, Lucien strides toward Slade and fuck, he looks absolutely thrilled to have him in this position.
He says something and I curse the stupid window for locking out their conversation but as Slade’s eyes come back to mine and his hands interlock behind his head, dread sinks heavily into my stomach.
‘I love you,’ Slade mouths, looking as though he’s saying goodbye. I shake my head despite the pain it brings from the gun at the back of it. I need to tell him this isn’t over. Why the fuck does he look like he’s giving up? What’s Lucien saying out there?
Lucien glances back, clearly knowing I’m watching. After all, he’s the one who wanted me to watch the show on the monitor. He’s probably loving the fact that now I get to see it up close and personal. He grins wickedly and I want nothing more than to steal the gun from the back of my head, knock this fucking guard out and then shoot Lucien right between is eyes.
What kind of monster has he turned me into?
Lucien’s head is thrown back in laughter and I watch as he looks back at Slade and indicates with the gun for him to get down on his knees.
My heart races.
There’s back and forth conversation and when Slade’s face breaks and his eyes come to me, I know that whatever was said couldn’t have been good.
Regret flashes in his beautiful eyes.
No, no. NO. Don’t you dare get on your knees before Lucien Valentine.
Slade begins lowering himself to his knees and a sob pulls at my throat. “NO,” I scream, slamming my hands against the glass. “Don’t you dare give up. Get up.”
The guard at my back presses the gun harder against my head and my face is forced into the glass as Slade looks away, his eyes dropping to the ground, filled with shame.
No. What’s he doing?
This isn’t right.
Lucien says something and when Slade refuses to look up or answer, he slams the side of the gun across Slade’s face, sending a mouthful of blood soaring over the grass.
Lucien yells, spit flying from his mouth as the veins in his neck pulse, but whatever is being said is still ignored by Slade.
I whimper. I hate seeing him hurt. I’d do anything to race over there and check that he’s alright. He should just play along, give Lucien what he wants until there’s a chance to run. That’s what I do. That’s what I’ve lived by for the past thirteen years, but I know Slade Cruz too well and there’s no way he’s leaving unless he has me in his arms.
With my head now slammed against the window, my hand on the glass is hidden and I’m able to curl my fingers around the latch. If this shit looks like it’s about to go south, I’ll be throwing myself out of this window at all costs. Slade will not die today. He will not be shot in the garden that I planted when I was eight years old, he will not take his final breath, and he sure as hell will not be leaving me on this earth without him.