Locked In

30

AINSLEY

Water splashed onto my face, cool but distant, like I was floating just below the surface of consciousness. It wasn’t enough to fully wake me, not yet. I barely registered the droplets sliding down my skin. Then came the patting, light at first, then firmer, more insistent. The continuous tapping against my cheek became harsher, turning into slaps. That was what finally pulled me from the darkness.

My eyes fluttered open, the world tilting as dizziness swamped me. My head lolled forward, and I blinked rapidly, trying to focus. The first thing I saw was a face—a face distorted, one eye covered by a black patch.

My heart lurched, adrenaline invading my system. I snapped awake, breath catching in my throat as panic enveloped me. My body instinctively jolted into motion, but I couldn’t move. I pulled harder, frantic now, my arms aching with the strain. It took me a few seconds to realise what was happening. My wrists...they were tied. I looked up, my gaze following the rope binding my wrists above my head.

It was connected to a wooden beam on the ceiling. The rope coiled around the wood, keeping my arms suspended high above me, my feet barely touching the ground. I yanked at it again, but it didn’t budge. The panic in my chest squeezed tighter, making it hard to breathe, but I forced myself to take in my surroundings.

The building was desolate, the kind of place that felt abandoned for years. Cracked walls, peeling paint, a damp, musty smell in the air. It would have been pitch-black if it weren’t for the small fire burning near one of the far walls.

And then my gaze landed on him.

The man with the eyepatch.

Something inside me snapped. I should have been terrified—should’ve felt a cold grip of fear paralysing me—but that wasn’t what took over. No, it wasn’t fear that roared to life. It was rage. Pure rage.

It pounded through me, heavy and relentless, flooding my veins like a tidal wave. My breaths came fast, uneven, my entire body trembling not with fear, but with fury. How dare he? How fucking dare he? After everything...after the first time he’d taken me and made me look like a fool, he had the audacity to kidnap me again? The anger was so intense I could barely think straight, barely hear anything over the rushing sound in my ears.

Maybe I was angry because this dickhead had covered his tracks that same night—wiped away all evidence that could’ve led back to him. I told Theon about it, and he’d said that was the only thing that could have happened. It made no sense. I had hurt him that night. It made no sense even more because he told me I’d hit him in the eye, causing him to lose it. So how the hell had he managed to clear the tracks and disappear?

My wrists burned against the rough rope as I tugged again, trying to break free, my muscles straining with the effort. I didn’t know why the anger felt so sharp, so heavy. Oh, maybe it was because Theon could have died that night, or maybe it was the humiliation of being kidnapped by the same psychopath twice, which was ridiculous. But whatever it was, the anger boiled, leaving no room for anything else.

My gaze went back to him, the flickering fire casting shadows across his face. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to tear him apart for thinking he could do this to me again. The fury inside me was so strong it was almost suffocating.

If I was going to die by his hands, I wouldn’t die a coward.

With that thought firmly secured, I gathered saliva on my tongue and hurled it at him. His eyes snapped shut, and I knew he would slap me before he raised his hand.

The sharp sound echoed in the silent night, burning through my skin as I swayed back and forth. Sealing the pain, I raised my head at him.

“Is that all you’ve got? I expected much.”

He wiped the saliva away from his face and slapped me with the same hand.

Goddammit.

I clenched my fists, blocking the pain that had blood stinging my mouth. I wanted to rile him up, and knowing it was a stupid approach made me want to do it more.

“Weak,” I mocked. “No wonder you were able to lose an eye to an eighteen year old.”

He didn’t raise his hand this time, he turned his back instead and sat on the chair positioned in front of me to stare up at me with crossed legs.

“I like you,” he said, all smiles. “After years of killing girls who only beg, sob, beg, sob, I finally meet someone who thinks she has the upper hand. I made a good decision to come after you.”

I chuckled darkly, wishing my legs were long enough to kick his nose and make it bleed. “That might be the last decision you’ll ever make, idiot.”

He shook his head. “If you think your superhero is going to save you like last time, you’re wrong. I made a mistake the other day and didn’t think someone might have a tracker on your phone. Not again.”

“I didn’t know you were such a talker.”

“You don’t know me at all.”

“But I know you’re the biggest motherfucker and fool the earth has ever conceived.”

He wiggled his forefinger at me, laughing. “I wonder if you’re going to have that mouth when I smash your head.”

“Why don’t you find out?”

Ah, God, I was definitely the biggest fool the earth had ever conceived. It felt to me like I really wanted to die. But I couldn’t control what was coming out of my mouth. I couldn’t contain my disdain for this man. Staring at his ugly face, knowing a lot of girls had been his victim, made me boil.

“Wait until I pluck out one of your eyes.”

I almost laughed, not fazed by what he said. “And what are you going to do with it? Glue it to your missing one?”

His lips curled. “That’s enough.”

“How...” If I was going to die, I should at least know something. “How did you clear your tracks?”

He stood up, walking to the fire at the far wall. “I’ve been killing for twenty years. I know how the law works. No evidence, no conviction. I had more than enough hours to clear everything after you left.” He picked one of the three woods, the orange glowing. “And I’ve been tracking you down after I recovered. It’s a good thing you came to South Highland. I wouldn’t have found you otherwise. It’s going to be a fun night.”

He sure was a talker.

With the angry, cackling wood, he strolled forward, and I didn’t need to be told that thing was coming on my skin. That...was the beginning of fear.

“I almost killed your boyfriend. I would have killed him,” his voice deepened, anger rolling off each syllable.

I frowned, diverting my gaze from the burning wood. “What do you mean?” What he meant hit me the next second, and fear took an exit. “It was you? You were the one who hit him?”

“Be thankful I was interrupted. I would have stayed and stabbed him if someone had not caught me and called 911.”

I tugged on the rope, swinging my legs in hopes that one would touch him. He could have killed Theon. Theon would have been dead. Again. Because of me. Because he was tracking this asshole down.

I began to cry, but not from sadness. No, the tears were born from rage—rage that this monster had almost taken Theon’s life, twice . The anger made it hard to breathe, and when he stepped closer, I spat at him. It was pathetic, really, the only thing I could do in this helpless state, but it was all I had to provoke him.

His face twisted in disgust as he raised the piece of wood—still glowing orange from the fire. I barely had time to brace myself before it slammed into the side of my stomach. The heat seared through my corset, sinking into my skin with a sickening burn. Pain exploded inside me, white-hot and blinding, I screamed—raw and furious—but I didn’t beg. No plea left my lips.

If anything, the pain only stoked the fire inside me. My rage burned hotter, refusing to be extinguished.

He dropped the wood and picked a knife from the floor, gripping my chin tight. I struggled, but it was of no use, then I remembered that I had my legs. I didn’t think, I swung it at his crotch, irritated that I even felt it. I wanted to throw up inside my stomach.

He doubled back, snarling at me. His hand shot up, my eyes widening when I saw the knife tip coming down towards my face. I snapped my head to the side and pushed myself back, but it met me regardless. My neck.

Fuck, it stung.

Hot liquid leaked from the side of my neck, sliding down to my collarbone. I didn’t have time to think about it. He seized my chin again and held tight, aiming the knife at my left eye, the same one I damaged with that iron rod.

“If you harm me, you don’t know the hell you’ll be letting loose,” I gritted out, my voice trembling with a little fear, as the knife hovered, its tip inches from my eye.

The man sneered, leaning in closer. “If this is about your boyfriend, I have plans for him.”

My breath hitched. For a brief, horrifying second, all I could imagine was the tip of that knife plunging into my eye. Blindness. Darkness. Pain. God . But the fear didn’t last long—just a flash of terror before something shifted in my peripheral vision. My eyes drifted past the man’s shoulder, catching a faint movement by the entrance of the building.

It was hard to see in the dim light. Just a dark silhouette against the bleak, empty backdrop. I blinked, my heart skipping, my breath freezing in my chest. The figure moved, slowly at first, like a ghost cutting through the shadows. My pulse raced in my ears as the shape became clearer, solidifying, stepping closer.

And then it hit me. It was him. My breath left my body at once, my chest tightening so hard it hurt. Relief overwhelmed every nerve, every cell. I wanted to laugh, to cry—he found me. Again . He was here, right in front of me, like some impossible miracle. Heaven, I could barely breathe, my vision blurred with unshed tears. He always found me.

But how? My mind scrambled for an explanation, and then, like a hit, I remembered.

The necklace.

His words echoed in my mind, clear as day, “Don’t take it off, no matter what.” That was it. The tracker. He had known, he had planned.

Emotion crashed over me—relief, yes, but more than that, love. Fierce and hard. I wanted to smile, to throw myself into his arms.

My gaze drifted back to the man in front of me, his smug grin still plastered on his face. I felt a smile pull at the corners of my lips, soft and dangerous. My heart was beating rapidly. Not from fear, but for Theon.

“Maybe,” I whispered, voice laced with certainty, “he has plans for you.”

Confusion clouded his scarred face, and I saw his brows furrow in question. Slowly, deliberately, I flicked my eyes behind him, signalling what was coming. He hesitated, turning around.

At the same moment, a blade sliced through the air from Theon. It buried itself deep in his right breast with a sickening thud, the force of it making him stumble back from me. His knife slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor.

Theon closed in like a storm. His eyes found mine—dark, ferocious, and alight with something far more dangerous than rage. Without a word, he seized the man by the front of his hoodie. My breath caught as he lifted him effortlessly, displaying a raw power that made my pulse dance. In one smooth, terrifying motion, he hurled him across the room. The man’s body hit the ground with a bone-crunching thud, sliding to a stop near the far wall.

Theon stood there, chest heaving, neck strained with tension, his veins bulging in his forearms as his fists clenched. I feared he might kill this man before I even had the chance to blink or kill him myself.

“Are you okay?” His voice was low, rough.

I nodded, though my heart was still racing. “Yes, I’m fine.”

He handed me the knife on the floor. “Can you cut yourself free?”

Eyeing the man trying to stand up, I nodded. I began sawing at the thick rope binding my wrists to the ceiling. My hands trembled, making it harder than it should’ve been. As I struggled to cut through the coarse rope, my gaze shifted back to Theon.

He was already striding towards the eyepatch man, who was still struggling to get to his feet. The man barely had time to get his bearings before Theon’s fist crashed into his jaw with a brutal crack. His head snapped back from the force, blood spraying from his mouth.

But Theon didn’t stop. He didn’t even pause.

Punch after punch, his fists collided with the man’s body. Each blow was a terrifying testament to his strength, and I could hear the crunch of bones, the wet smack of flesh against flesh. He was not stopping, driven by a rage that seemed almost inhuman. I had never seen him like this before.

I worked faster, the rope fraying beneath the blade, trying to free myself as the sound of their fight echoed through the desolate space. The eyepatch man tried to fight back, throwing a punch that landed squarely on Theon’s jaw. But it did little to slow him down. Theon barely flinched, his knuckles bloodied but unfazed, his movements more precise and brutal with each strike. His next blow shattered the man’s nose. Blood gushed, splattering across the floor as the man staggered, his legs giving way beneath him. Oh no, I wanted to do that.

My hands were sore from gripping the knife, but I had to be careful not to cut my skin. The last thing I needed was to make things worse. I could hear the impact of Theon’s fists, the grunts of effort and pain.

The eyepatch man tried to swing at him again, but Theon dodged, his hand shooting out to grab the man by the throat. He slammed him against the wall, the sound so loud it made me wince. And still, Theon didn’t stop. He kept hitting—teeth cracking, bones shattering. Blood spilled freely, dripping down the man’s face and staining Theon’s hands. It was as if he had a personal vendetta, like the man had done something beyond repair. Well, yes, Theon had fallen off a cliff and missed a year he would never get back, but it felt like it was something more than that.

Or maybe it was because this man had hurt me. And it terrified me how much of that fury consumed him. Murder gleamed in his eyes. He would kill him.

The rope finally snapped, and I fell to the floor, my knees bruising against the hard surface as the weight of my arms returned. The pain shot up my shoulders, but I ignored it, too focused on Theon’s unyielding assault. The eyepatch man was barely fighting back now. His movements were sluggish, his face a swollen, bleeding mess.

Theon grabbed him by the collar and dragged his limp form across the room, right towards the spot where I had been tied up. The man’s blood left a trail on the floor, his body shaking as Theon hauled him up like a ragdoll. His knuckles were dripping blood, knuckles torn and raw, but his eyes stayed on the man, dark and vengeful.

I scrambled up to my feet and rushed towards him. “Theon.” I grabbed his hand, my fingers wrapping around his bloodied knuckles, trying to pull his attention away from the man. Theon’s gaze fell on me, and his expression changed.

His eyes flickered to the cut on my neck, then the slap mark on my cheek. Rage flashed in his eyes again, but this time it was different—more controlled, sharper, and seething beneath. His breath came out ragged, his hand tightening on my wrist as if trying to steady himself.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to my forehead, his lips soft against my skin, a stark contrast to the violence that had just filled the room. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with regret. “Sorry I’m late.”

I shook my head, barely holding back tears. “You aren’t late.” My voice trembled as I spoke, my chest tight with emotion.

Theon exhaled slowly and pulled away from me, his gaze shifting to the machinery behind us. It was old, probably used for lifting heavy objects, and I realised what he was about to do. He walked over to the lever, pulling it until the mechanism whirred to life. The rope I had cut began to lower, and I watched as he grabbed the eyepatch man’s wrists, forcing them together. With practised ease, he tied the man’s hands to the rope, just like I had been.

The man groaned weakly, barely conscious, his blood dripping onto the floor. But Theon wasn’t done. He yanked the lever again, and the machine whined as it hoisted the man into the air. His legs dangled, his feet leaving the ground as he was suspended, arms stretched above his head. The man groaned in pain, blood still flowing from his mouth, nose, and the stab wound in his chest.

Theon’s knuckles were still bleeding, his chest rising and falling heavily, but his eyes—his eyes were as cold and unfeeling as the dark. He wasn’t going to let this man die easily.

And for the first time, I didn’t want him to.

“What are you going to do to him?” I asked. I could bet my life he wasn’t going to leave him like that. I looked up at the barely conscious body. “He is the same man who kidnapped me that night.”

“What?”

I shifted my gaze to him. “You didn’t know? He is. He told me. I thought that’s why you beat him up so badly.”

Was it possible to get more angry than he already was? Yes. Yes. Now, he knew the man came after me twice. He’d been beating him all these while because he thought he was just a stalker who left me letters and kidnapped me. But it started six years ago.

“I’ll take you home.”

“What? You’re going to leave him like this?”

He looked at me, and his eyes told me everything I needed to know.

He’d follow him to hell if he had to.

Nodding, I turned to—holy fuck. My waist.

Almost losing my balance, I grabbed the side of my stomach and stifled a pained groan. But I gave out too much. He caught on and lifted my corset, swallowing at the angry, red burn that painted my skin. His eyes went to the wood on the ground, its glow dying.

“He used that on you?”

Slowly, I nodded.

His eyes came to mine. “Anywhere else I should know of?”

I shook my head.

He didn’t believe me.

“I’m telling the truth. You can strip me if you want.”

His expression didn’t even twitch as he straightened up. “Can you walk?” He decided he didn’t need my response and leaned down, carefully lifting me into his arms.

My heart bounced back and forth in my chest as he carried me to the door, talking me through a dark stairs. I didn’t know the building was that high until we got outside and I looked up.

“This is yours?” I asked, referring to the bike he gently placed me on.

“Yes.”

Of course it was. Who else would it belong to? Everywhere was dark, and it must be the developing part everyone kept talking about. He got on the bike, and I circled my arms around his stomach.

“Keep your face on my back. I don’t have a second helmet and the wind is strong, yeah?”

I nodded, resting my head on his back. “Yeah.”

The bike roared to life, and he sped us out of there.

We got to my place about twenty minutes later, and we both stood on the front porch. The car was parked in front, which told me the girls were inside. It was locked, but after I knocked, Jade opened.

Her makeup was gone, but her face was streaked with tears. When she saw me, she crashed into me, bursting into a loud cry, enough to wake anyone sleeping.

I bit back the pain from my side and hugged her, Theon staring at me throughout. I could hear the need for violence humming in his blood. He was going back.

When Jade was done, she pulled back and thanked Theon, shedding more tears, apologising when she noticed my neck and face.

“What about Laura and Katy?” I asked, looking over her shoulder.

“I put them to sleep. They drank too much. I’m so sorry. I should have waited for the bathroom.”

“No, no. Jade, no. None of this is your fault, I promise. None, okay?” The man would have probably found another way to take me if I hadn’t followed her outside. I hugged her again, letting her cry on my shoulder. I should be the crying one, but I was too tired to summon tears for myself at the moment. Besides, Jade sounded a little bit tipsy. The concoction the bartender gave her was still in her system.

Few seconds later, she went inside to get a blanket, and I turned to Theon. I wanted to be wrapped around him to sleep tonight. After everything, I just wanted to sleep.

“You’re going back, aren’t you?” I asked, already knowing the answer to that.

He moved closer and brought me in for a hug. Theon’s hand slid down my hair in slow, deliberate strokes, but his body was tight, his chest pressed hard against mine.

I couldn’t let him go—not yet.

“Can you not go?” I whispered, hating how small my voice sounded, but the thought of him leaving gripped me harder than my words ever could.

He didn’t answer right away, and the silence stretched between us. My fingers fisted in his shirt, desperate to keep him here. His jaw flexed above me, and then, with a rough sigh, he spoke.

“You know,” his voice was solemn, “I’ve almost lost you twice to him.” His hand froze in my hair, and I could tell what he was about to say. “Six years ago, when I saw him dragging a body, a part of me thought it was you. And now, tonight, when I was speeding to get to you, I thought I was too late.”

His grip on me tightened, as if telling himself I was still here. “He’s taken so much already. I need to make sure he never comes near you again. I can’t, and I won’t let him hurt you anymore.”

I bit my lip, trying to keep my tears from spilling out. Funny how I thought I didn’t have it in me to cry. I understood. He wasn’t going to stay—not because he didn’t want to—but because he couldn’t.

And remembering he lost a whole year because of him, I wanted him to end him.

His hand slid from my hair to cup the side of my face, his thumb brushing over the mark left by the eyepatch man’s hand. He looked down at me, his gaze dark and heavy.

“Just tonight,” I murmured, my voice barely audible, “make him pay.”

His lips ghosted over my forehead, pressing a kiss there, soft but full of the tension he couldn’t release yet. “I will,” he promised, his voice low, deadly. “Tomorrow...we’ll fix everything else.”

I clung to him for another second, feeling the solidness of him under my hands—the hard planes of his chest, the strength in his arms. And then I let him go. Stepping back, I watched as Jade approached, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders.

I caught Theon’s gaze one last time, his eyes dark and intent as they lingered on mine, before I turned and stepped inside.

But Jade didn’t follow.

I was in the living room when I heard Theon’s voice behind, low and unmistakably soft. “Look after her tonight, Jade,” he said. “Make sure she’s alright. I’m trusting you.”

My heart twisted at his words, a warmth spreading through me despite the cold. I glanced back over my shoulder, but all I saw was Jade closing the door and striding to me.

I called him ten minutes after I woke up the next morning, wanting to know if he’d made it back home. His response came through, steady and calm, “Yeah, I’m back.” He also added that no one would ever find eyepatch’s body.

A part of me wished we could’ve handed him over to the police, let his victims finally see justice. But there was no real evidence linking him to anything—he would walk free. And in the end, killing him was the best option.

We talked for a little longer, his voice a welcome comfort in the aftermath of everything. He asked what I was doing, and with my cup of coffee in hand, I ran outside to the porch. “Why don’t you check your camera and see for yourself,” I teased, not knowing exactly where he’d hidden it.

The next thing he said sent warmth rushing through me, “You’re beautiful.”

I tried not to blush too hard, but my cheeks betrayed me, heating until they hurt. After chatting for a bit longer, through Jade’s phone since mine was still out of commission from last night, I went back inside.

Katy and Laura were already awake, sitting in the kitchen, looking like they were recovering from a train wreck.

“Hey, girls,” I greeted, cheerfully making my way over to them. Both of them had their hands buried in their hair as if their heads might explode at any moment. Jade was in the living room, focused on fixing my phone, something she’d been obsessed with doing since she was seven—fixing things.

“Jade made hangover soup for you both. Or would you rather have coffee?” I asked, glancing at their dishevelled appearances. The bird’s nest hair on their heads matched perfectly with the confusion in their eyes.

“What happened last night? Who brought us back?” Katy croaked, like even forming words was a painful effort.

Coffee, it is. I turned to start brewing some. “Jade did.”

“How much did I drink?” Laura’s voice was barely audible, her head still in her hands.

I chuckled, though the thought of the night before still lingered in the back of my mind. “How should I know?” I’d been too busy fighting for my life.

After a few minutes, the coffee was ready, and I slid cups across to them.

Katy murmured a quiet thanks, taking a small sip before placing it down with a sigh. “What about you? Did Jade bring you home as well?”

I smiled, shaking my head. “No. Theon did.”

Laura smirked, picking up her cup. “So, you were getting dicked all night. Lucky girl.”

Jade stayed silent, focused on fixing my phone, but I could feel her guilt radiating through the room. She still blamed herself for everything that happened.

“No,” I spoke softly, the room suddenly feeling a bit heavier. “I was kidnapped…Theon saved me.”

For a second, silence blanketed the kitchen. Then, Laura snorted, taking another sip of coffee. “Good one, Ainz. Halloween was yesterday. You’re too late for pranks. Nice try though.”

She stood up, heading for the sugar as if the conversation were a casual joke. Katy, though, hadn’t moved. She was still staring at me, the colour draining from her face.

Laura paused by the sugar, frowning when I didn’t laugh along. “What? Why are you guys so quiet?” Her eyes flicked nervously between me, Katy, and Jade. “It was a joke, right?” She turned to a quiet Jade. “Jade? Say something!”

Jade’s fingers stopped moving over the phone, her eyes focused on her hand as she quietly said, “She’s telling the truth, Laura.”

The room went ice cold.

Katy’s hand shot up to cover her mouth as her gaze zeroed in on the slice mark on my neck, her eyes welling up with unshed tears.

“Oh my God…” she whispered, her voice shaking.

The cup in Laura’s hand slipped from her fingers and hit the floor.

They wouldn’t stop crying.

I knew it was my fault for breaking the news like that. I should have eased them into it, especially after the amount they drank last night. We sat on the living room floor, forming a small circle as Katy and Laura sobbed, their tears staining their faces.

Six years ago, they were the only ones who believed me when I said I was kidnapped. They never really bought into the part about Theon, though. I didn’t push them to. And now, when I told them it was the same man who’d kidnapped me that night—because I made him lose an eye—their sorrow turned quickly to fury.

“Is he dead?” Laura asked, her voice hard, eyes brimming with tears but full of determination. “I know people, Ainz. We can find him. I want to kill him.”

If that man were standing in front of us right now, I knew without a doubt she’d slit his throat without a second thought.

“We’re so sorry that happened to you again,” Katy whispered, wiping her cheeks.

Laura blew her nose into a tissue before tossing it into the bin, her brow still furrowed. “I’m sorry. And I didn’t believe you the other time because you sounded so...calm about it. Are you sure you’re okay? We can go to the hospital right now if you want.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine. Really. I’m not going to let a jackass like him take over my mind. I’m over it.”

Except for the burn on my skin, which I’d already tended to.

I glanced at Jade, who was unusually quiet. “What about you?”

“What?” Jade blinked, snapping out of her daze.

“Are you okay?” I pressed gently, my voice soft.

The attention shifted to her, and Katy jumped in before I could say more. “It’s not your fault, Jade. He would have found another way to get to her even if you hadn’t gone out. He wasn’t some random guy who just decided to kidnap Ainsley. That asshole wanted revenge.”

We took turns reassuring her, letting her know it wasn’t on her. Not even I was that worked up about it anymore.

But then Laura, still red-eyed, cracked a joke. “Jade’s probably depressed because she didn’t wipe her ass last night.”

The circle burst into laughter, including Jade herself, who had been silently holding in her emotions until then. It was exactly what we needed to cut through the heaviness hanging in the air.

I joined in, grinning. “How long did you crouch there for anyway?”

Jade groaned, rubbing her forehead as if the memory was a headache. “I don’t even want to think about it. It’s that bastard’s fault. I shouldn’t have fallen for his stupid body.”

“Can’t blame you, love,” Laura said, patting her back. “I’d have followed him too.”

The next few hours went by with the three of us making jokes, trying to forget the horror of the night before. Katy, though, couldn’t fully let it go. She circled back now and then, asking what happened to the man. I told her the simplest version—the one that wouldn’t raise any more questions.

“He fell out of the window and died when Theon fought him,” I said, hoping it would put her mind at ease. They didn’t need to think of Theon as a murderer. It was an accident, and they were glad the man was dead, regardless. Slightly worried, but mostly glad.

Eventually, they got up to take their baths. By the time they were ready to leave, evening had crept in. They’d wanted to stay another night, insisting I might need some emotional support. But I convinced them to go. The only emotional support I needed was from Theon. I’d go mad if I didn’t sleep pressed against him again.

Katy’s fiancé, surprisingly, came to pick her up himself. Laura had texted him the address, arranging the whole thing behind her back. I couldn’t help but smile as Katy bolted off the porch and jumped into his arms, her joy palpable. He was good-looking, the kind of man I always imagined Katy would settle for.

After they reluctantly left, I grabbed my phone and stepped out of the house, locking it.

Vin’s call came in as I strolled down, heading to Theon’s. We rarely used my place because my bed was very small. All the beds were small. And I preferred his space anyway. Everywhere smelled like him. My phone screen was still cracked since there was no replacement, and Jade had fixed it for temporary use. I would get a new one.

“Happy new month,” he greeted. “A little bird told me you went to a fest yesterday.”

I chuckled. “Good morning to you. Yes, I did.”

“Why didn’t you invite me? I know I’ve been busy and haven’t had the time to come see you. Michael and I have been travelling. I hope you weren’t too bored.”

“Quite the opposite. In fact, you’d be shocked if I told you what happened.”

I didn’t tell him what happened. I was too tired to start explaining everything from the beginning, and again, he might decide I needed emotional support and pack his things to my place. That was the last thing I wanted.

So I told him I shagged someone, which was partially true.

The rest of my walk was filled with his relationship updates, and I kept quiet and listened because what would I say back to him? That I was also sleeping with the person that was only my stalker a few weeks ago? Probably not a great idea for a new month.

Getting to Theon’s place, I knocked on the door, listening for any movement inside.

No answer.

I tried the knob, expecting it to be locked, but it surprised me when the door swung open with ease. He always locked his door. Always. Maybe he’d left it open because he was expecting me. A part of me felt comforted by that thought, that he was waiting for me to come as much as I was eager to be with him.

Stepping inside, I closed the door gently behind me, the soft click of it shutting the only sound in the quiet house. It smelled like him—earthy and rich, the scent swirling around me, filling my chest. I glanced around, everything in its usual place, neat but lived-in. The low light from the setting sun cast a golden-orange glow across the walls, bathing the room in warmth.

He wasn’t here.

I made my way down the hallway, my heart picking up the slightest beat as I approached his room. The sound of running water coming from the bathroom reached me as I turned the door handle. He must be in the shower.

I pushed open the door to his bedroom, and the sight of it pulled me in. His curtains were drawn back, allowing the last rays of the day to spill across the floor. His bed was neatly made, the dark sheets smoothed and tucked, the pillow resting untouched, almost too perfect. His computers, normally alive with activity, were shut off, their screens blank.

It was peaceful. Calm.

I breathed in deeply, my chest swelling with the familiar scent of him that seemed to linger in the very air of the room. Every inch of this space, every detail, was him. I could feel him everywhere, even without him being physically present. My heart beat faster, full of him, consumed by the thought that any moment, he’d step out of the bathroom, and I could finally fall into his arms.

This was where I wanted to be. Where I needed to be.

The sound of an email notification pulled me from my thoughts. I fished my phone out of my pocket, the cracked screen lighting up with the new message. My heart did a little flip as I opened it, scanning through the lines.

It was official—I would start work on November 17th.

I blinked at the screen, still pinching myself. It didn’t feel real. After everything, after all the chaos that had been my life, I was finally getting the job I’d always dreamed of. The kind of job I never thought I’d actually get.

But the excitement was short-lived. As reality settled in, another thought hit me hard. If I was starting on the seventeenth, that meant I needed to start packing. I had to leave South Highland.

My heart sank.

The job was in Melbourne. A big city with millions of people. A whole new chapter. And I couldn’t help but wonder what Theon’s plan was. Would he come with me?

I stared at my phone, the email still open, but my mind was miles away.

I thought I would wait for him to be done, but I didn’t have the patience anymore. I took off my clothes and dropped my phone, pushing the bathroom door open. He was facing the wall under the shower. I joined him, stepping in behind as I wrapped my arms around his body. He tensed, then eased into me slowly.

Warm water came down on me, drenching my hair and sluicing down my skin. I let it rain on us quietly before I broke the silence.

“I’m starting work on the seventeenth,” I murmured, my heart in my throat.

“I know,” Theon replied without missing a beat.

My pulse quickened, my fingers tightening slightly against his skin. “Are you coming with me?”

Slowly, he turned in my arms, his hands gently cupping my face as his lips claimed mine, gently, lovingly, the shower raining on us. When he pulled back, his dark eyes searched mine, beautiful and unwavering.

“Did you really think I’d let you go alone?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “I bought an apartment for us in Melbourne. It’s already furnished, everything we’ll need is there. All that’s left is for us to move in.”

His words hit me like a wave of relief, wrecking me with a force I wasn’t ready for. My chest tightened, and I blinked back tears as I stared at him, overwhelmed by everything—the thought of us moving together, staying together. I didn’t know how I’d gotten so lucky. How in just a matter of weeks, everything had shifted so drastically, for the better. My heart was overflowing with emotions, the load of it almost too much to bear.

My gaze drifted downward, catching on his chest. There, etched into his skin, were the twisted branches of the tree tattoo, stark and leafless, save for the one lone green leaf.

I traced my finger around it, the faint line of the ink warm under my touch. “What does it mean?” I asked softly, lifting my gaze to his, hoping for an answer.

He watched me for a moment. “It’s you,” he finally said, voice low and steady. “That leaf, it’s you. My tree was never capable of growing anything, it was boring and lifeless...until you. You’re the only thing that’s ever made sense. The only thing that’s ever been real. The one thing I can’t let go of, no matter how hard I try. The stubborn, impossible leaf that grew on my dry branch. You’re my impossible.”

His words...my eyes welled up again. Without thinking, I leaned in and kissed him, soft and lingering, pouring every bit of emotion into that kiss.

When I finally pulled back, I pressed my lips against his, barely a breath between us as I whispered, “I love you.”

He was silent for a heartbeat, his expression unreadable. And then, in the quietest voice, he whispered back, “I love you, too.”