His hands slip around me again, pulling me into his chest, pulling me home, and I let out a soft sigh. “So, what now?”
Colton shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know,” he tells me. “I can’t say that I’ve ever held someone hostage before. I guess we wait and see if he lives through to morning and then take it day by day. I can’t let him go, Ocean. I can’t risk him doing it again and I can’t risk him talking to the police.”
“He won’t go to the police. He can’t risk that.”
“True. What do you think?”
“I think we have no choice but to do what I’ve always wanted to do. We hand him over to Nic.”
“Nic will end it. Are you okay with that?”
I bite down on my lip, really thinking about it. I wasn’t okay with being the one to end it, I wasn’t strong enough, but am I okay with still being responsible for his death? I don’t know. “Can I let you know?”
“Of course, Jade,” he whispers, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Are you going to be alright?”
I shrug. “Can I let you know about that too?”
Colton nods. “Do you want to stay with me tonight?”
I look up and meet his deep, loving eyes. “Is that alright?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I fall back into his chest and smile against his warm skin. “Uh, Jade?” he questions. “I know you’re sort of going through something here, but did you want to put that fire out? You’re kinda burning the ceiling and my bedroom is above this.”
Oh, fuck.
I get up off the shower floor and Colton raises behind me, reaching for a massive white towel that he wraps around me. I turn off the shower as he peels off his wet clothes and as I dry myself off, he deals with the fire in his bathtub, knowing damn well that he’s going to have to have someone come in to replace the ceiling.
“Sorry,” I murmur, looking up at the damage I’ve caused. “I was trying to get rid of the evidence.”
“It’s alright, Jade. It’s nothing I can’t fix.”
I find a silk robe and pull it on, dropping the towel in the hamper. “How did you know I was down there?” I question as Colton grabs a towel of his own and quickly dries off before wrapping the towel around his narrow waist.
“My mom,” he admits with a cringe. “She came to tell me about your little … run in. She mentioned that she’d sent you down to Dad’s personal wine cellar and the second the words came out of her mouth, I ran.”
I cringe. “I forgot about that bitch,” I say, not in the mood to mask my opinion of his mother, though, from his carefree response, I’d dare say his opinion isn’t too far from mine.
“I don’t blame you,” he says. “But don’t worry, knowing her, she’ll be gone in no time.”
I nod and let out a breath, trying my hardest to file all this bullshit away in my brain and not allow it to continue eating me up. “So, Spencer?” I ask as Colton reaches for the door handle and opens it for me. “He knew about this the whole time?”
Colton nods and I stop in the middle of the open doorway to look up at him. “That phone call you made after Jude … in your room. You called Spencer just before I passed out.”
He nods again. “He helped me move him.”
“And Charlie?” I question. “I’m assuming he doesn’t know seeing as though he keeps trying to find him?”
“Yeah, Charlie … he’s too good. He has a kind heart. This shit would destroy him.”
“And when he finds out?”
Colton sighs and slips his arm around my waist before leading me out of the bathroom and up the hall, both of us desperately ignoring the drops of blood that lead the whole way back to the wine cellar. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
Chapter 3
The early morning sun beams through Colton’s bedroom window as I stare up at the ceiling, just as I’ve been doing for the past twelve hours. Neither of us has slept as the heaviness of yesterday afternoon weighs on our hearts, bodies, and minds.
The emotions, the fear, the unknown—they’re all so real and I have no idea how to handle it. One part of me wants to run through this stupid mansion screaming at the top of my lungs, tearing my hair out, and searching for the goodness that I lost while the other part wants to go down to the wine cellar dungeon and finish the job. At least that way I know it would be over, but I’ll be condemning myself to a lifetime of guilt that’s bound to have me turning myself in and spending my days behind bars.
I can’t do that to myself. I can’t allow Jude to win. It seems that no matter what decision I make, he’s always going to get the better of me. Just like he did the night he raped me, just like every time I’m alone in a dark room and the fear cripples me when I see his face, and just like he did yesterday. No matter what I do, Jude is always going to win.
How am I supposed to get through every day knowing that my rapist is in the same house, breathing the same air and getting to live? I should have ended him, made it easier for myself to breathe. Fuck the guilt. I would have found a way to live with it. I should have slit his … fuck.
Who am I?
I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I guess Nic and the boys will be proud. I’ve
