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It should’ve been easy for the darkness to take over, so disturbingly easy considering I had all the elements necessary to drag me there. Why didn’t I end up there this time? Why, after all this time, did I desire to outrun the murky black abyss when before I’d allowed myself to drown in it?
Thoughts of Ollie continued to give me hope. I knew he was there, standing in the light, waiting for me. I slammed my eyes closed and imagined us there, the sun hanging high, ru
But it was a temporary haven, and God could dangle Ollie and the future we dreamt of right over my head all he wanted—a tease. A cruel torment, giving me everything I never knew I wanted only to take it all away. How dare he test my strength? Did he not know I wasn’t reaching this time?
I was fucking taking it.
Over the last two years, I’d let all outside forces dictate my life, my feelings, my head. I had allowed everyone else control what my punishment should be for all my wrong-doings.
Thank you, God, for testing me. I’d learned my lesson.
I had suffered long enough. I’d paid my dues.
And in the end, even the once-upon-a-damned deserved to be happy, too.
The last thing I’d remembered before blacking out had been the black muddy shoes hanging from above when my vision transformed from blurry to black—pitch black.
A tear slipped down my cheek, and when my eyes snapped open, the darkness welcomed again. But I didn’t let it in—not this time. My immediate response was to scream, but the tape stretching across my lips not only prevented it but rose panic where it became harder to breathe.
Oxygen turned scarce, and my nose burned. My wrists and ankles had been bound together, and I twisted in place, throwing my joined legs out only to have my knees hit the walls all around me. There was no way out. I squeezed my eyes shut, and another hot tear tumbled down as my chest burned from the lack of air and the fear swimming through me, trying to pull me under the current.
Ethan. It had been him all along. But why didn’t I see it before? Once, I’d confessed Ethan had the heart of a grim reaper, and for months I’d let this man I thought I knew into my bed, even on nights he’d taken lives. Ethan didn’t only have the heart of a grim reaper. He had been the blasted Angel of Death all along. And I’d let him touch me, let him soothe me. I allowed him inside, and it pissed me off how wrong I’d been about him. Knowing human behavior was the only thing I was good at, and I’d gotten Ethan all wrong.
Ethan had led those guys to their deaths—stole lives—and he could have gotten away with all of it too if it hadn’t been for me walking in on him. He’d looked at me back in the classroom on the third floor with utter shock in his electric blue eyes, mine carrying the same horror before he took me down to the ground. “Sorry,” went on repeat until it turned into the last thing I’d heard before the blackness took over.
It wasn’t until the car came to a stop before I realized I’d been moving the entire time in this dark, small space. A door slammed, rattling the trunk I’d been confined in, and my tears stopped mid-stream. Remaining still, I awaited the inevitable.
This was it. Ethan would try to kill me, too.
I’d never been afraid of dying. As a matter of fact, Death feared me. For years, I’d danced on the tight ropes without a care in the world, taunting the ominous fate, whispering, “Take me, I dare you,” with my arms high at my sides. Turns out, Death was a scared little bitch.
But that was before Ollie had come into my life.
The moment Ollie forced his way in, he became my center. My gravity. Ollie loved me enough for the both of us until I’d learned to love myself. And eventually, I had learned. I’d learned to love myself and the person I grew to be. Dolor, the pranks, nor the bullying could take that away from me.
Ethan wouldn’t be able to either.
If Death wasn’t a scared little bitch, then it should surely be now because there wasn’t a fight I’d surrender to—not this time. I’d not only fight for myself, but for Ollie and a lifetime together.
The trunk opened, and a gust of crisp air blasted through the closed space I’d been trapped in. The bright sun forced my eyes closed, and I jerked my head away from the light for a moment until they could adjust.
“We’re here,” Ethan stated, but it was indifferent this time. Reluctantly, I blinked my eyes open, and Ethan’s features came into view. Hollow eyes stared down at me, and I fought words against the tape. Curses, death threats, and screams came out as high-pitched hums. For a brief moment, Ethan turned away and scratched the back of his head as his shoulders tensed against the plain black tee. Then he straightened his posture and turned back to face me. “This is your fault,” he emphasized, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself instead of me. He shook his head, releasing a broken exhale before his two large hands grabbed me from the trunk and threw me over his shoulder.
I thrashed against his strong hold, but there was no escaping Ethan’s tight grip at the back of my knees. Amid the struggle, I chanced a look around to see a dense forest surrounding us—a canvas of greens and browns. Not even the sky was visible from this angle, blocked by the betraying canopies of branches and leaves. Trees went on for miles with no sign of civilization besides the two of us. No sign of Dolor, Ollie, or help for that matter. Only Ethan and me. The Angel of Death and the ex-sociopath.
A door creaked open, and Ethan pushed his way through and managed to kick it shut behind him, erasing the light from outside.
It was dark again, and the musty air smelled of mold and vacancy. Wooden planks covered every wall, and Ethan turned to deadlock the door, giving me views of the entire space, which was limited. A kitchen with a small window above the sink sat against the back wall. Beside it, a back door. Another escape route. To my right, a dusty floral couch lay against a wood planked wall facing an empty wall with an interior door. I didn’t have much time before he whipped back around and silently walked across the creaky floors until we stepped through another doorway and descended a flight of stairs.
Fighting against him was useless, at least until I could be free of the restraints tied around my limbs. They were so tight, cutting into my flesh, and each move against them only burned deeper. Saving my energy became a priority. After the last step off the stairs, Ethan threw me backward until my back hit, then bounced off, a spring mattress.
He paced back and forth, tugging at his hair as I remained still, watching him. The room was tiny, with no other furniture aside from the mattress beneath me. My gaze steered from Ethan to a window. A slice of the sun’s rays glared between the two of us, sending dust particles dancing in the space like weightless snow. The window was high, out of reach.
“Why, Jett?” Ethan turned to face me with his arms in the air, cheeks raging, and eyes straining. “You weren’t a part of the plan!” he screamed as his face shook. A lone tear ran down his cheek as he pushed himself on top of me. Ethan tore the tape from my mouth, and a scream ripped through me, desperate for anyone to hear, for possibly the trees to send a message across the UK until it reached Ollie.