by Becca Steele
“I think that’s one of the Volkovs,” I murmured to Jessa. “You know, Creed’s business associates. The ones that were connected to Petr.”
She didn’t reply, focused on the conversation between the two men. Now that she was standing here, everything in me wanted to go over and take another swing at Littlefinger, to hurt him until he was begging for mercy. To make him pay for what he’d done to Jessa.
But I didn’t have to.
Littlefinger’s voice grew louder and pleading, his hands gesturing in the air, while the Volkov guy remained impassive in front of him. Creed stood just to the side of the two of them, his pose deceptively casual, but I recognised the coiled tension in him, ready to act at any moment.
Volkov moved so fast I almost missed it. A casual, graceful flick of his hand, and a blade sliced along Littlefinger’s throat from left to right, quick and precise. Blood began spurting out as shock entered Littlefinger’s eyes, grasping at his throat with a look of complete disbelief on his face.
He fell to the ground, blood pouring from beneath his fingers, and Volkov turned his back in one final, deliberate movement. Next to him, Creed pulled out a tissue from his pocket and calmly dabbed the flecks of blood that had hit his cheek. After dropping the tissue onto Littlefinger’s now unmoving body, he smiled, slow and satisfied. Leaning across to Volkov, he said something too low for me to hear, to which Volkov nodded, then disappeared from the room.
Creed tapped out something on his phone before looking up again. “Clean-up crew are on their way.” He raised his voice, directing his attention towards me and Jessa, so I nodded in acknowledgement.
“It’s over now.” I placed a kiss to the top of her head, and she made a tiny noise that sounded like a sob.
Fuck.
It tore me open.
“Jessa, I—” My sentence was left unfinished because the door was bursting open, and Caiden and Zayde were piling into the room.
Jessa stiffened in my arms, moving slightly, and I winced at the sudden pain in my side.
What the fuck? Drawing back from her enough to see properly, I looked down at myself.
It was at that point I realised that there was a line of blood seeping through the fabric of my T-shirt.
TWENTY-FOUR
“That fucker better not have ruined my favourite T-shirt.” Cassius unwound his arm from around me, holding on to make sure I was still standing before he let go. “Okay?” he asked softly, and I nodded once, even though I felt like my legs were about to give way. My fingers gripped the cold metal of the back of the chair as I concentrated on breathing slowly, staying as still as possible. I was fairly sure that at least one of my ribs was cracked, because any movement would send a shooting pain through them.
“Fine. Go to them,” I croaked. He shot me a concerned look, but I nodded at him, and he sighed.
“Are you—”
“Go. I’m sure.”
His fingers trailed over the back of my hand. “Promise I’ll be right back.” Stepping away from me, he pulled his T-shirt over his head as he made his way over to his friends. He glanced back at me, and I attempted a smile. That seemed to be enough to reassure him because after one final, concerned glance, he turned his attention to Caiden and Zayde.
Closing my eyes, I refocused on my breathing. In. Out. Slow and steady.
“It’s just a scratch,” Caiden was saying. I opened my eyes to see him examining Cassius’ side. “No deeper than the cuts on your thumbs you cried about.”
“Fuck off.” The humour was back in Cassius’ voice, and the relief that filled me brought tears to my eyes. He was okay. Littlefinger was gone, for good this time, and Cassius was okay.
As the tears obscured my vision, my head started pounding and I suddenly needed air. I felt like I was suffocating in here, my lungs burning and my ribs on fire. Uncurling my fingers from the chair, I took a tiny, experimental step. There was a shooting pain, and I hugged my arms to my chest to support my ribs. This time when I took a step, the pain was slightly more bearable. Keeping my pace slow and as steady as possible, pausing after every step, I started making my way towards the door.
“What the fuck were you thinking, running in here like that? I told you to wait.” That was Caiden’s voice again, low, letting the anger bleed through his tone now he’d ascertained that Cassius wasn’t injured.
There was silence for a second, and then as I glanced over at the boys, I saw Cassius’ jaw set as he met Caiden’s eyes. “You would’ve done the same. Any of us would have. If one of our friends was in danger and we could do something, we wouldn’t leave them. Even if it was someone we didn’t know, we’d still help, right?” His eyes narrowed, and after a moment, Caiden nodded, accepting his words.
“You’re right. I would’ve. We would’ve.” He squeezed Cassius’ shoulder, and Cassius gave him a small, genuine smile in return.
Almost at the door, I looked at Cassius, standing there with his friends, who were studying his wound and asking him questions—still angry at him for rushing into danger—and I knew what I had to do.
Turning away from him, I met Creed’s gaze. As he lowered his phone from his ear, his golden eyes scrutinised me, and he inclined his head slightly before stepping closer.
“Can you take me…?” My voice trailed off, hoarse and scratchy. I needed to leave before anyone noticed, before they tried to speak to me and realised that I was hurt. They’d either give me misplaced sympathy, or even worse, Cassius might feel guilty for not being able to get to me before anything happened. And I wouldn’t let that happen. There was no way that I wanted him hurting in any way. He was far too important to me. Of course, Caiden and Zayde might just redirect their anger towards me—anger because I’d managed to put Cassius in this situation. And they’d have every right to be angry. He could have been hurt so much worse than a shallow cut.
He could have died if the knife had gone in deeper.
A shuddering breath escaped me, and I pleaded with Creed silently.
His gaze flicked between me and Cassius, and he sighed, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t run away.”
“Please.”
“This isn’t the right decision,” he said softly, but he held out his hand, and I took it.
We escaped unnoticed.
“Where does it hurt?” he asked when I was settled in the cool leather interior of his car.
Leaning my head against the window, I noticed Winter, Lena, and Weston running across the car park, and I let out a breath, glad that Cassius would have all of his friends with him. He needed them now, I knew that.
What he didn’t need was me—a girl who was only supposed to be a fuck buddy, but who had not only managed to stupidly go and fall in love with him despite the warnings I’d constantly given myself, but worst of all, had put his life in danger. If he hadn’t been able to defend himself, if Creed and the other guy hadn’t turned up when they did…
“My ribs.” I desperately tried to ignore the other pain, just for a moment. The pain that was worse than the physical. The physical pain would be gone, I knew, once I had medicine and rest. But the pain inside me…that would take a lot longer to heal.
Creed nodded as if he’d expected that answer. “I’ll take you to my private doctor, then we’ll take it from there. Austin’s plane should be here soon, and he’ll want to see you.”
“Thank you,” I whispered as his car started up, taking me away from the nightmare scene.
Taking me away from Cassius.
“Seriously, mate, I wish someone had been videoing it. I was like a ninja—” I stopped mid-sentence as my best mate shot through the doorway and threw himself at me, followed in quick succession by my sister and Winter.
“Why don’t you have a top on?”
Ignoring Lena’s question and the face she was pulling, I met Winter’s eyes. “Can you check on Jessa?”
She nodded instantly, and I smiled. My smile dropped when she frowned at me.
“Uh, Cass? Where is she
?”
“What?” Barely able to disguise the sudden panic in my voice, I spun around to face the chair.
It was empty.
There was no sign of Jessa, or Creed, for that matter. Just a body on the floor, blood pooling on either side of the neck area.
“Creed’s taken her.” Zayde held up his phone. “Gone to get her checked out. Her brother’s on his way to her now.”
“What did he do to her?” Winter interrupted. Her blue eyes were wide and troubled.
“He…uh.” The fucking lump in my throat was back, and I was suddenly conscious of everyone staring at me. Clearing my throat, I tried again, the image of Jessa, limp and bound to the chair, forever burned into my mind. “She had bruises on her thigh. A, uh, a knife cut there as well. And bruises all around her throat.” I growled out the next words. “She could hardly fucking speak.”
There were general noises of anger and distress from everyone around me, and I knew right then that they’d accepted Jessa. Something inside me settled, although I couldn’t say what it was.
“I need to see her,” I muttered, quiet enough that no one caught my words.
“Give her time with her brother.”
Okay, someone caught my words. Glancing down at Lena, I nodded, understanding passing between us. She gave me a soft, almost sad look, and I knew she was thinking of her confession to me not so long ago. I pulled her into a hug, wrapping my arms around her, and she managed to not even comment on the fact that I didn’t have a T-shirt on, hugging me back tightly.
“Love you,” I murmured into her hair.
“Love you, too.” She released me, and West was there, pulling her into his arms. He mouthed, I’ve got her, and I shot him a smile, then turned to Z, because all this emotion was too much. Especially now Jessa wasn’t here.
And I really didn’t want to think about that right now.
“Have you ever knocked someone out with a shovel?”
Zayde raised a brow but said nothing.
“If it’s good enough for a zombie, it’s good enough for a human.”
“Zombies are humans,” West interjected.
“Undead humans. Can you even call them humans? They’ve lost all their humanity, surely?” Winter pursed her lips, deep in thought, causing Cade to laugh and drag her into his arms, kissing her cheek. Here I was, third-wheeling again. Well, me and Z. And Littlefinger. Although I guess that didn’t count, since he was dead.
Although…
“Hey, if someone was going to come back as a ghost, would it happen straight away?” I stared at his body, then glanced back at the others, catching Cade’s eye.
“How the fuck would I know? Do I look like the ghost expert?” He shook his head at me, managing to look disdainful and disapproving all at once.
“I wasn’t asking you specifically. I was asking everyone in general.”
“I think I can safely say that none of us are experts on the paranormal, mate.” West gave me a quick grin over the top of Lena’s head. “So based on my totally made-up knowledge, I’m gonna say it happens straight away.”
“Can we change the subject, please? At least back to zombies.” Winter shivered, frowning in the direction of Littlefinger’s body. The clean-up crew showed up just as we were debating whether a crossbow or a katana would be better for taking out the undead, and we got out of there. I was more than happy to leave that place behind.
Once I was back in my SUV, Winter joined me. She’d arrived with Lena and Weston in Lena’s car, while Caiden and Z had taken Cade’s Audi R8. I could tell she had something on her mind, but I waited for her to bring it up.
We sat in silence for a while, but once we were on the motorway and heading back towards Alstone, she finally spoke, her voice soft.
“How are you doing, Cass? Really?”
“I’m fine.”
There was no reply, but a slim hand slid onto my arm.
I sighed in defeat.
“Okay, I’m worried about Jessa.” Once I’d started talking, I couldn’t stop. “Fuck, Winter. I was so scared for her, and when I saw Littlefinger, I wanted to fucking kill him for what he’d done to her. She looked—” My voice cracked, and the hand on my arm tightened, Winter’s thumb rubbing in soothing circles. “I’ve never seen anyone like that before. Remember how you were in the hospital?”
Winter nodded.
“Yeah, well, it was too much like that for my liking, except she wasn’t safe right then. He was right fucking there, and he’d done all this shit to her, and-and—” I broke off with a frustrated noise, slamming my hand down on the steering wheel. “She had all these bruises around her throat, and there was blood, and—”
“Hey. Breathe.” Winter ran her hand up and down my arm. “It’s okay now. She’s safe. Creed’s got her, and so’s her brother. Littlefinger is really, properly dead this time…” Her voice trailed off, and I could feel her eyes on the side of my face as I stared at the road. Silence fell for about thirty seconds before she added, “And no, he’s not coming back as a ghost.”
I shot her a glance, noticing the corners of her lips turning up, and I laughed. “It’s probably not very likely, yeah?”
“I’d say so.”
“I fucking love you, by the way.”
She beamed at me. “Same.”
There was silence until we reached the outskirts of Alstone, when she spoke again. “I’m assuming you’re planning on sending Jessa a text when you get back, or a voicemail or something, so she knows you’re there. Ready for whatever comes next.”
“Yeah, of course I am. I’m not gonna sit around waiting to hear from her when I’m this worried about her. But ‘whatever comes next?’” I repeated her words, unsure of what she meant.
“Yeah. You’ll work it out.”
“Work what out? Stop being so cryptic.”
She just laughed and refused to answer.
“Really fucking helpful,” I mumbled, taking the turning that led onto our road.
What was coming next? Whatever it was, I had no fucking clue.
Hopefully, it involved Jessa getting better and zero people out to get us. I wanted to enjoy the remainder of my last summer as a student.
Fingers crossed.
TWENTY-FIVE
The next week passed in a bit of a blur. After I’d been checked over by the doctor, I’d been informed that I’d cracked a rib and another two were bruised—or more accurately, Petr had done that to me—so I spent a lot of time resting.
In London. With my brother.
If anything good could come out of this mess, it was that Austin and I were actually having proper, deep conversations like we’d never had before. Like I’d said to Cassius previously, Austin had moved out when he was eighteen and I was fourteen, and what eighteen-year-old guy wants to hang out with their annoying teenage sister? Maybe some did, but not Austin. He was so independent, so focused on setting up on his own, and I admired him for that. At the time, I was more interested in my friends, and parties, and gossip, and a kind-of-distant brother hadn’t featured high on my list of priorities.
Another thing I was making up for now.
Austin had retrieved my phone from my flat two days earlier, but it had taken me until now to turn it on. I wasn’t sure what was holding me back, but as the screen came to life, I threw it face down on the pillow next to me.
Eventually, I told myself that hiding from my phone wasn’t going to achieve anything, so I flipped it over and unlocked my screen.
I scrolled mindlessly through my apps before I admitted to myself that I wanted to see if there was a message from Cassius.
There was more than one.
Much more.
He’d sent me a total of twenty-seven messages, and there were also messages from Winter and Lena. Before I looked at the messages from him, I read through the messages from the girls, which were mostly showing concern and saying to contact them when I felt up to it. After I’d replied to them both, I took a deep breath and opened my m
essage thread with Cassius.
I’d done so well in keeping myself together all this time, but now the tears fell, and I couldn’t even say why. Angrily, I swiped them away, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand. This was ridiculous.
When I managed to gather myself, I tapped out a reply to his most recent message, then carefully placed my phone face down again.
Cassius: Are you OK? Hope Austin’s looking after you. Text me back when you’re ready
Me: Thanks for thinking of me. I’m OK mostly. Almost recovered & enjoying time with my brother
An hour later, after I realised I’d read the same paragraph on my Kindle for the tenth time, I dared to check my phone again.
Cassius: Good. I want to see you. When are you coming home?
I’d had a week to think, and I knew I couldn’t do this anymore. It wasn’t fair to either of us. It wasn’t his fault that I’d fallen in love with him, and I never tried to fool myself into thinking he felt more for me, because I knew he didn’t. I’d gone into our arrangement with my eyes wide open, and I knew it had only really ever been about the sex for him. Anything more was just wishful thinking on my part.
Hot tears filled my eyes. I had to do it. I had to end this now before I made things even worse. Still, it took me a long time to type the words, then a long, agonising ten minutes before I forced myself to send my reply.
Me: I’ll be home in the next couple of days but I need time to myself. I’m sorry Cass, I have to end our arrangement. It’s nothing to do with you I promise
He replied straight away.
Cassius: Can we talk about it? I want to see you. I don’t want it to end
A tear landed on my phone screen as I sniffed, my lips trembling. Why did this have to be so hard? Why did doing the right thing have to hurt so much? I knew that he’d be fine, that he’d soon move on, but my heart was breaking as I wilfully pushed away the man I loved.
