I'm exhausted, and probably look terrible. But in my defense, I spent the night at the police station. After the deputy cuffed Seth and escorted him from our room, I locked up, drove to the station, and planted my butt in the waiting room.
My initial reaction was to be as close to him as possible. He was there because he defended me and I couldn't abandon him. But after countless attempts to either see him or post his bail—which I was told isn't financially achievable—I accomplished nothing.
Scratch that. From the stink eye deputy Lucy kept shooting me from behind the front desk, I think I accomplished pissing her off. I don't blame her. When I first stormed into the station, I was an F5 tornado—all pounding winds and scorching rage. I'd even gone so far as to slam her phone down on the desk when she'd told me for the umpteenth time Seth wasn't allowed visitors. It's a miracle I'm not in the cell next to him.
But now my fury has fizzled out, only to be replaced by disappointment. Defeat weighs me down as I drive back to our hotel to check out. It's my only stop before an uncomfortable interaction I'm preparing to have with my mother and her scumbag of a husband. It's my last resort. Groveling, bargaining, I'm above nothing if it results in dropped charges.
I pull up to the motel and my phone rings from inside my purse. Slamming my door shut, I swipe the phone, hitting answer.
"Hello."
"Thanks for replying to my text last night," Marsha says.
I all but sigh into the phone. "Marsh." In the midst of everything happening, I'd completely forgotten about my naïve best friend back home.
"Glad to see you care." She snorts. "I'm having a mental crisis over potentially having my first boyfriend in, oh, six years and I can't even get my best friend's go ahead. What's up with that?"
Reaching my door, I slide my keycard into the slot and push it open.
"I'm so sorry. Things got crazy here and–"
My words get trapped in my throat as cold steel presses against my temple. Across the room sits Calvin, poised and relaxed with his arms thrown atop the back of the couch.
"Hang up the phone."
Lindsay's voice sounds from my left, right behind the barrel of her gun. It digs into the tender flesh of my scalp.
I consider sprinting down the hallway toward the clerk at the front desk. Lindsay may be skilled with a gun and all it would take is the pull of her trigger to have me crumpling lifeless to the floor, but I'm quick. With a little maneuvering I could shield myself behind the door before she's given the opportunity.
"Don't even think about it." This time, the words belongs to Calvin. His voice feels like velvet against the shell of my ear, all smooth and dominant. That paired with his toned frame, crisp, tailored navy suit, and striking features makes it easy to understand why Marsha fell for him. Luckily, I know why she shouldn't have.
His midnight eyes are severe, honed on mine from across the room. So black they resemble the pits of hell. It's where I've found myself.
"Ellie?" Marsha asks over the line.
Lindsay presses her gun further into my temple. "Hang up the damn phone. Now."
"Marsh, I'm gonna have to call you back."
My hands shake as I disconnect and Lindsay snatches the phone. Gripping my neck, she tugs me into the room, releasing the door. It shuts with a harsh thump, making me jump. My nerves pulse through me like electrical wires and it takes all my concentration to keep my legs functioning.
Each breath feels like my last as I'm guided to the bed and thrusted so I'm seated. Lindsay's gun follows me down, never breaking its connection as she towers over me.
Calvin watches from feet away, a leer stretched across his lips. And then silence. Unnerving, ear-splitting silence.
My pulse pounds, my limbs tremble, my death flashes across my eyes. It's on repeat, again and again. My blood on the scratchy comforter, my insides splattered across the tacky wood surfaces, my lifeless body contorted in unnatural angles on the carpet.
Why is this happening?
My breathing picks up pace and my vision blinks in an out. The hyperventilating starts and there's no way a Kleenex will fix any of this mess I've found myself in.
Calvin adjusts his suit, lifting his left sleeve to check the time on his platinum Rolex. "I'm running low on time, so let's make this quick. Where's Seth, Ellie?"
"He's indisposed at the moment." My voice shakes, revealing my trepidation, but despite the situation, I refuse to divulge Seth's whereabouts. "How do you know my name?"
He's quiet, his expression unreadable. "I have eyes and ears everywhere, especially with a certain blonde I've been fortunate to get to know."
It's impossible to miss the amusement in his voice and it ignites the wrath inside me, as well as the instinct to protect.
My lips sneer, my brows dip. "Don't you touch her."
"Too late. But not to worry, she enjoyed herself."
"You scumbag." Self-preservation dissipates as I heave myself from the bed, eager to wrap my hands around Calvin's neck. I make it an inch before Lindsay's grip on my neck tightens and I'm shoved back against the comforter.
"That tongue. I see why Seth's taken a liking to you." He nods, malicious delight shining from his eyes. "I thought Seth would come crawling back to me himself, but it appears you've become quite the distraction. But now we have a problem. This rendezvous you two have been enjoying needs to end. I need him back."
"Not a chance."
His features turn to steel, the amusement dropping from his eyes. "Seth's mine."
"Actually, he's mine." Has been since he walked through my door and entered my life. I just hadn't known it then –hadn't predicted how immensely we'd root ourselves in the other and change because of it–but I do now.
Calvin's nostrils flare. "I created that man."
"You broke him," I clarify, momentarily reliving every confidential moment Seth and I have shared as we collaboratively tried to repair the damage. "And I've been doing my best to piece him back together after what you did."
Calvin laughs–actually laughs. It makes me want to heave myself from the bed again and gauge his eyes out. "Your loyalty to him is impressive. I could use someone like you."
Yeah, not going to happen. Ever.
"It comes when you care for someone. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
He cracks his neck back and forth. "Watch your tongue, girl. My tolerance only reaches so far."
"And what about your compassion? How far does that reach?"
"Not very. Considering I have none. And now you've also dwindled my patience." He stands, striding across the room so he's in my face. His breath reeks of cigars, making me gag. Or that could be my fear lodging itself back into my throat.
"So let's get to the point. Tell me where Seth is, otherwise your friend gets a bullet to the head."
I keep my expression even, my hysterics composed. "You wouldn't."
His eyes flick to my right. "Lindsay, call Luca." Shifting his gaze back to me, he stresses the point he's making. "He's waiting outside her apartment door for your call. Tell him Marsha's no longer necessary."
I blink and swallow the bile rising in my throat. It happens right before I shout out, "Wait."
He smiles, and why shouldn't he? I'm cornered, trapped, forced to choose between the two people I love most. In order to save one, I must sacrifice the other.
Calvin lifts his finger, trailing it along my cheek. He's toying with me. I resist the urge to shrivel beneath his touch. "What's it going to be, Ellie?"
Moisture stings the back of my eyes because I'm powerless. Nothing I do will save me or them from Calvin's intentions. In a matter of minutes, someone's life is over. It all comes down to one very important question.
Whose?
The door to the room swings open, revealing a stocky man with greasy hair pulled into a tight bun.
"We found him, sir."
Calvin pulls in a breath. His eyes pierce into mine –cold, lifeless , victorious. "Seems you're no longer necessary." He stands, buttoning his suit. "It's been a pleasure, my dear, but now I must retrieve my asset."
"You can't do this to him." I fight against the hold Lindsay has on my neck. I thrash, desperate to break free of her release. "He's a person, not an asset." My words are hysterical, but I can't let this happen. Seth's worked too hard to be yanked back into Calvin's clutches. "Spare him, please. I'll give you whatever you want."
Calvin rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Lindsay, shut her up, will you?"
It's the last words I hear before my world goes black.
The first thing I notice when I crack my eyelids is the pain throbbing in my skull. Second is the nausea. It rolls from my stomach, splashing the back of my throat. Third is my surroundings–the dusty motel room, the scratchy comforter beneath my palms, the light creeping through the dingy curtains, Lindsay on the couch with her gun aimed in my direction.
Everything comes back to me with that image.
I boost myself into a seated position and instantly regret it. The ache and nausea assault me at once. My hands go to my head, cradling it.
Lindsay snickers. "You might have a concussion."
You think? My situation isn't good, but I'll survive. I just need to keep my eyes open and focus on what's really important right now–Seth.
"How long have I been out?"
"A little over an hour."
Definitely not ideal. Time is of the essence if I plan on getting to Seth and stopping Calvin from whatever he has planned. What I intend to do once I get to the police station is still up in the air, but I'll figure that out when I need to. I just hope I'm not too late.
"Where's Seth?"
An amused smile curves her red lips. "Wouldn't you like to know."
Frustration boils beneath my surface, escaping through my mouth. "Dammit, Linds. This isn't a game to me."
"I know, but we're having a blast anyway."
This is worthless. I'm getting nowhere and raising my voice is only increasing the excruciating ache in my head. So I switch tactics.
"Please just let me go."
"What was the line you used on Enzo earlier when he asked you to cooperate?" She twirls a strand of hair with her free hand before throwing her pointer finger toward the ceiling. "Oh right, not a chance."
I sigh. "What are you still doing here anyway? Calvin got what he wanted. He knows where Seth is. I'm useless to you."
"Not if you interfere."
"After everything you've done for him, he just leaves you behind with me?" I inch forward. "That doesn't seem very rewarding."
"Nice try, but the goading not's gonna work."
"I'm being serious." Ignoring the pain in my head, I lift it from my hands. "What has Calvin ever done for you?"
Her eyes narrow, supplying me with the necessary time to continue.
"I told Seth he can get out if he wants. You have that same option. Let me go and take it."
She pauses, momentarily. "And look where that's got him. Why would I ever be that stupid?"
"Because you're more than babysitting duties."
"I've also been assigned the stimulating duty of killing you if you try to leave this room." She crosses her legs and leans back against the couch, never lowering the gun. "Nice town you've got here. It's small. Quiet. Lots of secluded forests to dispose of unnecessary garbage."
My nerves spike again, but I need to remain sensible. Okay, she's loyal to Calvin, but she also revealed her loyalty to someone else at our apartment weeks ago.
"Seth will never forgive you," I say, attempting to tap into that cold, bitter heart Lindsay keeps stashed in her chest.
It works. Uncertainty flashes through her eyes before she shakes her head. "Seth doesn't matter."
"C'mon. We both know that's not true."
She scoffs but otherwise resists my bait.
I shift uncomfortably on the bed, moving my left foot to the floor to regain circulation. It bumps into my suitcase.
The suitcase.
Inside rests my gun Seth insisted we bring. I'd given him grief about it before we left, but he'd been resolved in his decision, insisting protection is always important. Boy was he right.
I just need to find a way to reach it, and I need to keep Lindsay distracted.
"If he finds out you killed me, he'll come after you."
She lifts her brows. "You sure about that?"
I lock my shoulders. "Yes."
"Wow. You actually believe that." She plumps her lips into a duck face, tilting her head to the side. Somehow she still makes it look sexy. "You poor thing. I warned you before, he's incapable of love. He doesn't care about you. He doesn't care about anything." Her voice rises with conviction, but her words are for herself.
I'm not the one who needs convincing of Seth's complete detachment. I'm not the one Damon left behind. I'm the one he followed to the middle of nowhere to help deal with the delicate wounds a mother left in her wake. I'm the one he somehow found a way to care about.
And it has Lindsay's insecurities flaring, breaking through the cracks of her façade. I take the opportunity to drive my chisel through.
I reach beside the bed, pretending to scratch my calf. "Maybe you just didn't take the time to really know him like I do."
"Four years," she snaps, narrowing her eyes. "How long have you known him?"
I freeze. My blood pounds in my ears and my hand trembles against my calf. She's too focused on my actions; she knows. I'm going to end up worse than Allie–I'm going to get shot. And it'll all be my fault, because I was stupid enough to irritate the monster in an attempt to outsmart her.
But then she snickers and lifts her eyes to the ceiling. "But maybe you're right. Our time together was focused on more recreational endeavors."
I take the opportunity and reach into the suitcase. My fingers find the handle, latching on, before I lift it in Lindsay's direction.
The gun shakes in my outstretched hands, but I smile. "Ours is equally balanced."
Her upper lip trembles with fury, but it's the only reaction she allows. With the flick of her hair over her shoulder, she brushes my threat off. "That's sweet. Do you even know how to use it?"
Not exactly. I've had a total of three lessons and each time I've failed miserably at hitting the target repeatedly. If I have to shoot this thing, I'll likely leave a bullet hole in the wall I'll need to pay someone to patch up. But she doesn't know this. So I do what Seth instructed—I release the all-important safety.
My voice dips, emanating the tone Seth once used with Lindsay in our living room, and I threaten, "Leave."
She swallows and, because she stands, I'm certain she's buying my act now. But she doesn't move to the door. Her gun remains trained on me like mine is on her. Panic swoops in. I'm going to have to shoot this thing. I'm going to have to hurt her.
I consider repositioning my gun on her legs when Lindsay's phone chimes from her pocket.
Neither of us move. Our eyes remained locked, our guns ready.
It rings a second time.
Slowly, she grabs it with her free hand and lifts it to her ear. "Yeah?"
I watch silently, heart pounding the entire time. I have no clue what's happening over that phone line, but I don't relax, I don't lose focus, not even as she ends the call and lowers her gun.
"I'm done here. You're lucky I'm not in the killing mood today." Her voice is perky, as if we weren't just locked in a gun-equipped stare down.
My gun follows her all the way to the doorway and just as she's about to leave, she turns back. "There's no need for you to go back to the police station; Seth's no longer there."
Then she's gone.
I don't release my breath until after I run over and lock the door. My body still shakes with my lingering adrenaline and also my triumph. But I don't get a second to relish in my victory.
Because all I can focus on are Lindsay's last words.
Seth's no longer there.