Locked In

25

THEON

Fuck, my bones were on fire.

I had glue sticking to my hands, bits of paint under my nails, and fresh cuts that stung. I let out a long breath, leaning against the edge of my counter, staring at my hands—red, raw, and ruined. They’d been through hell today.

I’d cut every one of those pumpkins at that café yesterday afternoon till midnight. I hadn’t planned to, but something made me grab the carving knife. Maybe it was the idea of Ainsley laughing when she saw those sad-faced pumpkins, the thought of her smile cracking through that hard wall she put up around me. Yeah, that thought drove me, pushed me through every swipe of the knife.

But I didn’t go all in like that again for the pumpkins at her house. No, I’d bought those pumpkins, the fog machines, every light and ghost that littered her front yard. My body couldn’t take more of the carving, and I wanted as many jack-o’-lanterns as possible for her. Between cooking and carving, I had more than a few cuts. But none of that mattered when I was doing it.

The apartment was a wreck. Halloween decorations were scattered everywhere—fake cobwebs, unopened boxes of lights I never got around to using. The chaos suited my mood, but I couldn’t leave it like that. Not tonight. I wanted to put all of them out, but there was something I needed to see first.

I wiped my hands on my jeans, leaving streaks of glue, and pushed myself towards my computer. My fingers moved over the keyboard, pulling up the feed from Ainsley’s front yard. The second her face appeared on screen, the pain faded into nothing. It didn’t exist. All that mattered was suddenly her.

She was smiling—fuck, she was smiling—and my chest tightened at the sight. Her eyes twinkled in the dim light, reflecting the orange glow of light from the pumpkins I’d placed on her porch. Her head tilted, taking in every detail, from the fog rolling over the ground to the flickering ghosts hanging above.

She was beautiful.

My hands throbbed again, a reminder of the work I’d put in, but seeing her like this made it worth every drop of blood and sweat.

I’d rushed through it all. The fog machine arrived late—nearly screwed up the whole thing—but I’d worked with what I had, raced against time, and somehow, it came together. I didn’t sleep—couldn’t—didn’t even stop to breathe, just pushed myself because all I wanted was this—her standing there, eyes lit up like a million stars.

She didn’t stop smiling, not once, as she walked up to her porch. I watched her until she disappeared inside, the door closing behind her. Then, and only then, did I let myself lean back, closing my eyes for just a second.

My phone rang in my pocket, pulling me from the calm I had just settled into. Slipping it out, I brought it to my ear, already knowing who was on the other end.

His voice came through, grating like nails on a chalkboard. “I just got your email. I’m not sure exactly what you—”

“I’m calling in a favour,” I cut him off, leaning forward, my voice low. “You owe me one.”

There was silence on the other end before I heard a long, deep breath. “What favour is that?”

Two years ago, he’d been on the brink of losing everything. The country’s tax revenue had disappeared into his pockets, and the authorities had somehow found the traces he carelessly left, ready to drag him through court and then jail. Some hacker had dug it all up, ready to sell the evidence to the CI, and that would have been the end of him. But I got there first. Hacked into the IRS servers, wiped every trace clean, and his entire case vanished like smoke. Since then, he’d stopped because he almost lost his company, and I never threatened him with the evidence.

I’d told him I’d call in a favour someday. Well, that day was today. Looking back, I must have saved his ass that year because a part of me knew Ainsley had always wanted to work there.

“Isn’t it obvious?” I opened my eyes and pulled up the live feed to Ainsley’s living room. “That’s her application and everything you need to do. Give her the job.”

The bastard chuckled like I’d just asked him to move a mountain. “It’s not as simple as that. One, the yearly recruitment cycle is over. And two, the position you’re asking for…Marketing Director isn’t something just anyone can—”

“Is the spot empty?” I asked, already knowing the answer. I’d made sure of it one week ago.

He hesitated. “Yes, but we have someone else—”

“Are you the chairman or not?”

A heavy sigh filtered through the line. “I still am.”

“That’s great. Then make it possible.” I kept my voice even, but the edge was unmistakable. “I don’t care about your procedures, your rules, or whoever you’ve lined up for that position. You’ll put Ainsley Hades in that chair unless you want to lose your title. And believe me, Kevin, I can make that happen.”

There was a long pause. His voice, when it came, was tight. “I’ll... I’ll see to it.”

I nodded, my eyes narrowing as Ainsley walked into her living room on the feed, a brush in her mouth, towel wrapped around her damp hair. “Good. And one more thing.” My voice dropped an octave. He had no time to respond. “Memorise her face. If you or anyone messes with her, you won’t live to see the next hour.” The threat was sharp, cold and deadly. “I’ll hunt you down, Kevin. I’ll find you no matter where you run, and when I do, you’ll wish I’d never been born. Tell everyone who might pose a threat to her. No one lays a hand on her. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” he croaked, his voice almost trembling. “I understand.”

I ended the call without another word, my hand lowering the phone slowly as my eyes followed her back to the hallway until she disappeared inside her room.

The seconds passed, and reality hit. My place was still a fucking mess.

I pushed the chair back, letting the legs scrape against the floor, and forced myself to move. I grabbed the scattered decorations and tossed them into boxes. My body screamed for rest, but I couldn’t stand the clutter.

Once the last box was shoved into the dump, I made my way to the bathroom. The door creaked as I opened it, and the cold tiles bit at my feet when I stepped inside. I stripped off my clothes and got under the shower.

The water hissed to life as I turned it on, steam filling the small room. I stepped under the stream, letting the heat wash over me, soaking into my muscles, but it didn’t do much to numb the ache in my bones. I rested my head against the tile, water dripping down my face, and closed my eyes.

All I saw was her.

Every time I closed my eyes, it was Ainsley—smiling, frowning, pissed off, confused—it didn’t matter. She was always there, haunting me, driving me to do things I never thought I’d do. Like spend hours decorating her damn house just for a glimpse of her reaction.

I didn’t care about Halloween. I didn’t give a shit about pumpkins, lights, or fog machines. But for her? I’d move heaven and earth if it meant I could see her face light up like that again.

My hands pressed against the cool tile, the water running down my back. It was more than just a want at this point. It was a need, a compulsion. Getting her back wasn’t a choice. Nothing would be enough until she was back where she belonged—in my arms.

I stayed under the shower longer than I should have as I washed the day away until there was nothing to scrub.

With a deep breath, I shut off the water, stepping out into the cold air. Droplets slid down my skin as I grabbed a towel and rubbed it over my face. My reflection stared back at me from the fogged-up mirror, my eyes instinctively tracing the scar on my chest.

The scar I got from my mother right before she died. By my hands. She was my first, and I had no regrets. If I hadn’t ended her life that afternoon, she’d have ended mine. A prostitute and an alcoholic who couldn’t raise a child. She was traumatised, and it had rubbed off on me in the worst way.

Snapping out of the memory, I stepped out of the bathroom, letting the steam dissipate. A few minutes to nine, and I was already back in front of my computer, staring at the mound of work I’d piled up over the weeks.

I worked for different organisations under an untraceable ID. If they needed me, all it took was a code—a string of digits buried in places only I could reach. It didn’t matter what they wanted: hacking into government databases, syphoning off funds from offshore accounts, wiping incriminating evidence clean, or planting it on someone else. I made problems disappear.

I needed the money, and they needed someone who could get their hands dirty. Conscience? That was irrelevant. Right and wrong were luxuries I didn’t care to afford.

After a while, a hard, persistent knocking on my door jolted me. Who the hell could that be? I didn’t fuck with neighbours. That, if I had any. There were barely any houses around me—one would have to walk a mile just to find a family home.

I stood up as the knock turned into weak, unsteady bangs. Soft, almost hesitant. One that could only belong to...

Adrenaline filled my veins. I rushed to the door, heart thudding, unlocking it and yanking it open. A sobbing Ainsley stood there, her hand frozen mid-air, her fist raised like she’d been about to knock again.

Air seized in my lungs.

Confusion and panic rippled across my face as I took her in. Her shoulders shook with each sob, her hair plastered against her tear-streaked face. She was wearing an oversized sleep shirt and knit trousers, her face flushed pink.

“What the hell happened—”

Before I could finish, she stepped inside and crashed into my chest. The sudden force made me stagger back, my throat tightening painfully.

A wave of emotion slammed into me. Her body was pressed against mine, and a deep, long-buried ache unravelled inside me.

I wrapped my arms around her, slowly at first, then I squeezed, pulling her closer as if I could never let her go again. The sensation of her in my arms after so long was dizzying, overwhelming. Like I had just surfaced from drowning.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” I whispered, burying my face in her hair. Her scent, her warmth—every inch of her brought me back to life.

I hugged her tighter, our bodies locked together, and the world outside ceased to exist. She was here. She was real. How could something so simple feel so monumental?

After what felt like forever, she slowly pulled back and wiped her face, her eyes red and puffy from crying. I reached out and brushed her tears away.

Before I could ask what had happened, she chuckled softly through her tears, her voice breaking.

“Marketing Director? Really?” She smiled faintly, shaking her head as more tears spilled, her eyes flicking up to meet mine. “You’re insane, you know that.”

“For you? Always,” I replied, my heart racing as I wiped her tears away. Her words, her smile—it was everything I had been craving. I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming. She chuckled again, and I pulled her back into my arms, holding her like she was the air I needed to breathe. She was.

I was feeling everything—joy, relief, even fear that she might slip away again. She was the one thing in my life that made sense, the one person who could make me feel alive. How could one girl fill your entire world with light?

“Am I forgiven?” I asked quietly after a while, shutting the door behind her, still holding her tight.

She sighed softly against me. “You’re on probation.”

I laughed, my chest vibrating against hers. “That’s a relief.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, I could breathe. Truly breathe. With her in my arms, all the darkness, all the chaos I had been drowning in, faded into the background. I felt whole, alive, like the pieces of me that had been shattered were finally coming back together.

She had no idea how high the position she held in my life was. If she wanted to kill me, she only needed her words to do it. And hell if that kind of power didn’t scare the fuck out of me.