Gray’s? “Worst place on the fucking planet. It’ll be full of what he needs. Where is it?”
“Across the park.”
“Take me there.” He doesn’t move, and I guess that’s his job. It’s not mine.
I get around in front of the screens, trying to scan them. “You might not give a damn, but I do and I need to get there. This is my fault. All my fault. He needs me.” He stands immediately, blocking my view, and picks up his phone. Presumably to call Malachi. He eventually ends his call, his brow furrowed, and dials another number. No fucking answer there by the look of his face. “Oh my god, please. Please. He needs me and I can’t help him if you don’t let me!” More fucking hovering and blocking me. “HE’S GOING TO KILL HIMSELF!”
Something finally changes in his stance. He looks sideways at the door, and then nods. We’re both moving to a door at the back of the house before I can catch a breath, his hands opening doors until we’re in a car and screeching out of a back garage. He doesn’t wait for traffic, nor does he give a damn about lights or rules of the road. He drives like a man possessed, thankfully catching up with my own panic, and speaks into a phone all the way to call more support,
By the time we get to a building’s underground parking, another car pulls up beside us. Three men peel out of that, all of them racing to a private elevator. One starts ripping the housing off by the door, fiddling with wires inside it until sparks fly out in his fingers and the doors finally open.
I stand in the middle of them, eyes fixed on the mirrored doors as we travel upwards. I can see my own reflection in them, see a woman that just fucked up beyond all measure. This was his chance at life, at real life – my goddamn chance, too, and look what I’ve done with it. I ran.
The doors finally open to reveal dim lighting and silence. I rush past the men surrounding me, searching for Malachi and shouting his name. No answer, and the eventual sight of Gray spread out on the floor by the stairs does not help my frantic search. I crouch down and run my hands over his head, feeling for blood. He groans, and moves a little. Not much else.
“Gray?” Another groan. “Where’s Malachi?” Nothing.
“Malachi?” I shout, looking up the stairs. No response. I grab one of the men moving around. “Wake him up,” I mutter, pointing at Gray. “We might need him.”
Moving quickly, I take the stairs two at a time until I get to the top. A huge wall of slightly obscure glass surrounds the area, enclosing what seems to be a laboratory. I peer through it until I finally see him sitting there at the main table. A half sigh falls out of me, but then I notice his hand laying quietly next to a syringe and an array of pills scattered on the surface. I stare at him, noticing the huge dark pupils telling me he’s far away in his own world of pills.
I move for the door, gently trying to push or pull it. It doesn’t budge, no matter how much pressure I put on it, so I stare, my hands splayed on the glass. “Malachi, open the door.” No movement at all. “Please. I’m here. I’m sorry. I needed time to think, but I know now. I do. I love you and I want to marry you.” Two of his men run up beside me, both of them trying the door, too. He scowls at them, enough anger in the look that I ask them to back off. They do, but only until they’re hidden behind the stairs.
I look back at Malachi, smiling at him to try cooling him down from whatever he’s doing. “Come on, baby. Open up for me. I’m here. Real. Waiting.” He moves a little, his hand reaching until it covers the syringe. “Don’t you dare,” I snap. “You said you wouldn’t, that you’d stay. You promised me.”
His brow furrows further, eyes casting at anything other than me. I move, trying to keep myself directly in front of them. “You said as long as I wanted you. I want you. I really fucking want you and I’m sorry, but I needed time to think. You sprung it on me. I …” I don’t know what I want to say. “I would be dead without you, lost and alone. Don’t you fucking leave me now you’ve given me the chance to live.” That dark scowl comes back to me, soft blinks reminding me of the man underneath it. “I need you. I don’t want to live without you. Do you understand that? Are you hearing me? I love you, and I need you to love you, too. We can make that happen, don’t you think? We can find that, together.”
Nothing. No words. No reaction other than him still holding that syringe in his hand. I bang the glass, repeatedly slamming my hands on it to try showing him. It does nothing to alter his mood. I don’t mean enough, do I? Or maybe I do and this is the result of his fears without me. I don’t know, but my own body crumbling down this wall of glass, tear filled eyes still staring at him show that I didn’t help. Not really. I never talked him out of this, never guided him along a different route. I just postponed the inevitable, gave him something to do with his life for a while before taking it away from him. Me. All my fault this time.
My weak hands keep banging the glass, palms splayed to try getting to him. He looks at the table blankly, starts moving the syringe around and rolling up his sleeve. Tears come thick and heavy as I watch, my mouth trying a multitude of words to make him see me, or sense, or a love that I thought he understood. Nothing happens other than him pumping his fist to get a vein bulging.
I’m losing him.
“Malachi,” I mutter, still palming the glass. “Don’t do this. Please. Oh god, don’t leave me. I love you and you have to stay. You said you would and I need you.”
The needle goes in while I’m still staring through my tears. He doesn’t even look at me until he’s pushed the whole concoction in. It’s in those seconds that I find a shard of a smile reflecting back at me. A soft one. One just for me and the time we’ve spent. But he’s gone other than that and I can’t fucking breathe. My nails scratch the glass, hands hammering it, trying to get in until I’m dragged backwards by someone. Bullets suddenly start firing at the glass. It doesn’t break. It’s just motion and movement, none of it giving me access to him, and none of it changing a damn thing. His head tips back, eyes rolling with the move, and his body begins shaking.
That’s all I can see.
That’s all I’ll ever see now because he’s gone.
And it’s my fault this time.
Chapter 23
Ally
Three months have gone by since that night. They’ve been three months filled with confusion, pain, and a sense of loss I’ve never felt before. No one could wake Gray, and I was dragged from the apartment and taken from the one thing I wanted to be beside. I fought. I fought to get back to his body so I could just be with him as long as I could, but it didn’t work. No one would talk to me. No one would take me back to him. There was no way of getting out of whatever they were doing. It was just a car and two of his team and then I was dumped back at the house I lived in before all this.
I had nothing there other than the image of him dying in my mind.
It was cold and lifeless and empty.
Just like him.
There was nothing after that for a few days. I tried getting to his house, maybe hoping that he wasn’t dead even though I knew he was. No one would let me in. They wouldn’t even open the door and talk to me, so I tried Gray’s building. I couldn’t even get past the concierge desk before I was taken out by security. I was as empty and lifeless as my home. Emptier than I was when they raped me. Emptier than I was when my father was killed. Emptier than I was when my mother took her own life. I didn’t sleep. Didn’t eat. Didn’t venture outside my own four walls after that despite Brett and Brandon trying to make me. I just lay in my bed and stared, sobbing, catatonic. And all there was was the plague that haunted me every minute of time – my fault.
I heard from Malachi’s lawyer – Reggie Vanderbury – a week after I got back. He asked me to go to his office in Manhattan. I didn’t want to. I tried every way of getting out of it. What difference did it make? None. Malachi was dead and I was alive and that was the wrong way around as far as I was concerned, but eventually Reggie told me there was something in Malachi’s will for me that needed discussion. It was important. Very important.
