Before I can register what’s happening, he throws me over his shoulder and carries me back into my house. My feet barely touch the hardwood floors before he’s gone, the front door slamming shut behind him.
I’ve just regained my balance when my phone buzzes again in my hand. With a nervous glance down at it, it’s a new notification from him.
Unknown: My name is River.
Unknown: Lock your doors and go to sleep.
River.
Still dazed from his touch, I bring my hand up to type in the code.
I’ve only set my alarm when my phone buzzes with another text.
Unknown: Good girl.
Ignoring the heat his praise sends down my spine, I leave my phone downstairs before I do something stupid—like continue texting him—and trudge up the stairs to my bedroom, ready to finally get the sleep I’ve lacked recently. But right as I pass my office, I change my mind and step inside.
My eyes bounce from one box of case files to another, all scattered on the floor. I look to the whiteboard hanging on the wall in the far side of the room. It holds every planned-out detail for my next story. On the opposite wall, a corkboard covered from top to bottom with printed copies of Google searches and plotting notes.
Dragging my feet across the carpet, I reach up and pull down each piece of paper. Observing them drift to the floor, I feel powerful. Then I stomp over to the whiteboard, take both hands with palms up, and wipe every word, leaving the board completely blank.
I have no idea where to go next, which is a first for me, but I know this is my story and I am determined to avenge it.
Chapter 9
River
It’s a quiet couple of days at the Thompson Manor while I wait for updates from Christian and for a possible call from Andrew. I’m confident Christian will get back to me as soon as he’s uncovered anything. At the club almost two weeks ago, Andrew mentioned he’d be in touch with further details on what the next steps are with my involvement in their group, but I still haven’t heard anything. I hate to be at his mercy and wait—it’s apower moveby him to remind me of who’s in control.
A spiteful laugh echoes inside my car as I drive down the dark highway and into the city.
You have no idea what you’re in for, Andrew.
It’s also only been a few days since I let Lux know I’ve been watching her. Sure, it pissed me off that she willingly walked out of her house and into possible danger, but the fact that she did it because she believes I won’t hurt her, heats my insides with pride.
The city lights illuminate the dark night as I pass downtown Seattle on my way to Lux’s suburban townhouse on the edge of the city. The late hour reveals my favorite time of the night leaving the roads deserted as the clock in my car approaches midnight.
As I turn down the shadowy road I grow more anxious to see her. I park my car in its usual spot nestled under a large tree a short distance away from her row of townhomes. After a quick scroll throughthe screens until I find her tucked into the corner of her couch with a blanket wrapped around her body. She seems unfocused without a book or laptop to occupy her time. I’m surprised by the sadness that moves through me as she appears to be so lonely. Something about her sitting by herself in the middle of what appears to be an empty house leaves me unsettled.
Me: Are you alright?
She leans over to the coffee table and grabs her phone. A subtle smile pulls at her lips, one sending a warm sensation through my veins.
Lux: You’re back.
Me: I am.
Lux: Why do you think I’m not alright?
Me: You went through a traumatic experience. It would be expected to struggle.
Lux: Yes I am struggling, if you want to know.
The camera shows her run a hand through her tousled hair. My eyes follow the movement of her fingers as they move through the strands. I imagine burying my nose into the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her lavender shampoo.
I want to offer her something.
Me: I have something for you.
