2-35
INDIE
Me: I don’t want your men following me.
Knox: I’ll call them off when you’re safe.
Me: Which is…when I come back to you?
He didn’t respond.
My annoyance with Knox flickered as I glanced at the man standing outside. This morning, I left for a jog, and a six-foot-something giant with the broadest shoulders I’d ever seen introduced himself as Charles, my bodyguard. I told him I didn’t need security. He informed me that Knox had paid him and another guy to guard me in twelve-hour shifts.
Every day.
It was thoughtful in an overbearing way. Knox cared about me, but he revealed it in ways that stripped me of agency. And so far, he’d shown no signs of stopping. My phone buzzed with another text.
I ignored it.
I shook my head for the umpteenth time that afternoon, perched on my couch with a glass. Ice clinked together as chocolate-infused whiskey slipped down my throat. In the last few days, he’d tried hard to win me over. He sent lunch to my apartment. When I visited the office, a piping hot latte waited for me on my desk, accompanied by a sweet Post-it note.
“He’s so persistent.” I sighed, dropping the tumbler on my coffee table. “What do you think?”
My sister shrugged as she bent her knees and slid her legs to one side. She was younger than me, but wise beyond her years. I sought her advice because she always had the answers. Unlike me, she wore confidence like a luxurious coat. She never hesitated to give her point of view, but tonight she seemed reticent.
“Claire?”
She wiped dust off her sweatpants. “You don’t want to hear my opinion.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I do.”
Her jade eyes glowed with a passionate challenge, but she picked lint from the couch. “He’s a stalker, and you need to call the police.”
As usual, my sister went straight for the jugular.
I slumped into the cushions as the weight of Knox’s obsession slammed into my shoulders. “I can’t do that to him.”
“You are way too nice.”
I waved her off, sipping more of the drink. “I can handle a few inappropriate calls. He’ll get bored of it and move on.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening.”
My hand trembled, and whiskey sloshed against the glass.
Knox would leave me alone if I convinced him that I didn’t want him, but I doubted whether that was possible.
“As long as he thinks he has a chance, he will bombard you with texts, emails, and calls until you cave. He scares you, Indie. And I don’t blame you. He sounds certifiable.”
“He is.” I drank deeply as she helped himself to the olive and cheese spread. “I wouldn’t be surprised if his next plan is to knock me up. I can’t believe he bought my apartment. The whole damn building, Claire. Before that, he bought my company. Who does that?”
“A billionaire with a broken heart?” she suggested.
“Trust me, it’s not broken. In his mind, we’re still together. I need a new place. And a job.”
“Get a passport with a different identity while you’re at it.”
“Right?”
I’d scoured classifieds and made a list of prospects, but a glaring problem prevented me from moving forward-my stalker fiance. Even if I broke the lease, Knox’s unlimited reach would find me. He had an entire department dedicated to espionage, staffed with the brightest engineers he’d stolen from other tech companies.
He’d locate me again. Not that I could face severing him from my life. My cheeks flushed as I drained the rest of the whiskey. “He hasn’t shown up to the apartment in a week. Maybe he is letting go.”
My sister snorted. “That gorgeous nerd is planning his next move.”
I often lay awake at night, stressing over the lengths he’d go to get me back. Knox didn’t have anyone else. He was the most isolated man I’d ever met. No family. Barely any friends, except for the jesters who showed up when he held court. He appeared content, but I knew better. His bewitching smile covered up a lot of damage.
“Does that make him such a bad person?” I asked, worry clogging my chest. “Shouldn’t we go after what we want?”
“Not by manipulation.”
“He’s type-A. It comes with the territory.”
Claire grimaced, shaking her head. “You’re rationalizing his behavior, Indie. It’s not healthy.”
“I know, but I can’t help but feel for him. It’s not his fault every adult in his life abused him. What he became was shaped by the abuse. I can’t ignore that.”
“Indie, listen. I love you. You’re my older sister and I’ll support you no matter what, but I hate that you downplay his actions. He’s out of line. And I don’t care what he’s been through. There’s no excuse for it. None.”
I considered that, frowning.
My mother raised me to forgive. She looked the other way when my father cheated on her. Dad let the contractor that stiffed him redo the bathroom. They allowed my sister to stay in Colorado after she’d nearly flunked her first year of college. Empathetic people held back on consequences.
“I’m better off without him,” I murmured, the lie stinging my cheeks. “I gave Knox a second chance. A third. Fourth. Fifth. But then I realized that I’d given him carte blanche to do whatever he liked.”
“You can’t change him.”
Exactly.
My spirits plummeted when I pictured him alone. The pang in my heart burned. I ached for Knox. My heart bled for the boy inside him who never stood a chance. I wished I could guide him out of the darkness, but some men only craved the light from the fires they’d started.
I grabbed her empty glass and mine. Then I shuffled to the kitchen and dumped them in the sink. My chest tightened as I stared at the reflective metal, picturing a life without Knox. If I stayed here, I’d work myself into another crying jag.
“I think I need a walk!” I forced a smile as I strolled into the living room. “Want to stretch your legs?”
* * *
A glorious sunset dimmed over Castle Island as we roamed from Seaport to the North End. It rained on the way there, but I took it as a blessing. Water battered me as I tipped my head back, relishing in the soothing chill.
Vendors shouted their wares at the evening farmer’s market. I sauntered down the path Knox and I took so many times. As my boots clicked the brick-lined street, I inhaled the scent of frying donuts. A sweet memory of Knox wiping sugar granules from my lips tortured me.
I passed tables bursting with cranberries, prickly pears, and yams, sinking onto a park bench. Claire walked ahead, haggling with the pickle farmer.
I closed my eyes, gripped in the sensation of Knox sitting beside me on this very bench. Darkness slowly released its clutch on my heart. His mouth seemed to press into mine.
We’re over.
I pushed that away and concentrated on the bustling marketplace, the birdsong, the soft zoom of cars. Life would be bearable again. I had to let him go.
I wiped my cheek as someone drifted by. Rocks shifted under their feet. Gravel crunched close to me.
The footsteps stopped.Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.
“Miss Starling?”
The gruff voice jolted my eyes open.
A man in his late thirties stood in front of me, hands shoved deep into his slacks.
“Good evening, Indie.”
“Tony Costa? What are you doing here?”
Annoyance lined his gorgeous, olive-skinned face. “Taking you to Knox.”
“You have to be kidding me,” I whispered harshly, glaring at him. “Again?”
“I’m doing him a favor.”
I shrank from him, bristling. “And if I refuse to go?”
“I’ll bring you anyway.”
“I’ll scream,” I growled, nails digging into the bench. “We’re in a public area. I’d like to see you try getting away with manhandling me into a car.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I have a lot of friends in the justice department. And if by some miracle you outrun me, I’ll get you the next time you’re outside alone.” He shrugged, a bestial grin carving into his face. “It’s up to you whether you’d rather spend weeks looking over your shoulder.”
A lump swelled in my throat.
“Look, I can’t leave. I’m here with my sister!”
“That’s not a problem.” He turned at the waist, glancing in her direction. “You won’t be gone long, and she’s distracted at the moment.”
“You don’t know my sister, pal.”
“I’ll have someone escort her home.” Tony faced me, his expression softening. “Indie, he just wants to talk.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Don’t make this harder on yourself. Come.”
Should I run for it?
I searched for my sister among the throng of shoppers, but couldn’t find her blond head. I stood, blood rushing to my temples. Tony backed up, motioning for me to join him. Avoiding him, I sprung for the path, crashing through a pile of leaves, my boots skidding in an awkward run.
I took a quick glance behind me, screaming at the terrifying image of Tony closing in on me. My footing stumbled as my rubber soles slipped on the slicked road. Suddenly, red bricks whirled toward my face.
I threw up my arms and landed hard. Pain slammed into my bones.
Tony’s roar crashed into my ears as he skidded to my side and peeled me off the ground.
“Let me go!”
He dragged me upright as a Lexus wheeled to us, grimacing at shocked passersby. He opened the door and shoved me inside, then climbed in the backseat with me, cursing.
“Help me!” I shouted, catching the driver’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “I’ve been kidnapped! Call the police!”
The man faced the windshield and tapped the gas, as though driving kidnapped women to their destination was the most normal thing in the world.
Tony raked his hair, his wedding ring winking through his black locks. He muttered harsh-sounding words in Italian as he rubbed his forehead.
“Where the hell are you taking me?”
“You’ll find out in five minutes,” Tony said testily, his thumbs texting a message. “I have to tell your fiance there was a mishap.”
“He is not my fiance! I broke up with him, for God’s sake!”
The blue light from the phone illuminated Tony’s furrowed brow, and his clouded expression hardened into anger. What the fuck was going on?
We zoomed across the North End to Beacon Hill, a pretentious corner of Boston that Knox had carved out as his own. The car stopped in front of his favorite restaurant.
“He’s out on the patio.” Tony got out, unfolding to his mammoth height as he held the door open. “Any day now, sweetheart.”
His mocking drawl inflamed my cheeks.
I ripped off the seatbelt and got out the other side, shaking with rage. I made a beeline for the restaurant entrance, catching Tony’s amused gaze.
I’ll kill Knox.