Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
It’s better this way.
That’s what I tell myself as I march resolutely to the door and open it slowly, quietly, listening for any voices or footsteps signaling I’m not alone.
One good thing about the fallout from Aspen’s attack, aside from the spotlight no longer being on Scarlet and me, is that most everyone chooses to stay in their apartments now in case the attacker decides to strike again.
There’s not much that will keep Q from a workout, though; he’s a creature of habit.
He ought to be wrapping up any time now and will take the stairs down to his apartment rather than use the elevator. It’s a part of his cooldown process.
My heart is heavy though my feet are light, carrying me soundlessly down the hall. The silence brings to mind a graveyard. I’m sure that’s my guilty conscience plaguing me. Q trusts me above anyone in his life, and this is how I’m repaying him.
He isn’t family. He isn’t blood.
And as River loves to remind me, this is war. That’s what gets me to the stairwell closest to the gym, where I press myself into a corner, fading into the shadows. I have to do this. There’s no other way. No matter how I wish otherwise.
My heart’s pounding hard enough that I wonder if Q will hear it before he reaches me. A deep breath helps center me—until the door one floor up swings open, followed by the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
This is it. Remember what matters. Remember where this all started.
In my mind’s eye, I see myself pushing him down the stairs from behind, then following him down and finishing the job while he’s dazed. A single slam against the concrete stairs should be enough to smash his skull like an egg.
A buzzing noise fills my head, growing louder with every step he descends. Holding my breath, I watch as he rounds the landing above me, unaware he isn’t alone, jogging down the stairs while looking at his phone. He slides it into his pocket as he rounds this landing, not ten feet from where I’m waiting.
This is it.
No going back now.
Once his back is turned, I lunge before I lose my nerve, both hands against his shoulders.
I can barely bite back a frustrated cry as I push.
I’m a traitor. He trusted me, and now he’s falling, tumbling down the unforgiving stairs. I can’t see much of him in the dim light, but I don’t need to. I hear him, and that’s more than enough to turn my stomach and make me curse the day River ever suggested we get revenge.
He comes to a stop at the next landing and lies still for a few breathless moments that seem to stretch on forever.
Did I get lucky for once? Did the fall kill him?
Of course it didn’t.
A muffled groan fills the stairwell not a second later, and my stomach plummets. I know what I have to do, but I can’t.
I have to look into the face of my best friend before smashing his skull.
Why won’t my feet move?
I grip the railing, steeling myself, teeth gritted against the agony burning my insides like acid. My jaw fucking aches from the tension. River’s voice rings out in my head.
Move, dammit. Finish this.
I do move—not in Q’s direction, however. I take the stairs up to the next floor and head straight for the elevator, my heart pounding hard enough to make me sick by the time I jam my finger against the button.
What if he saw me?
What if someone finds out?
Why didn’t I have the balls to finish the job?
I can’t answer the third question, and it doesn’t matter as much as the first two, anyway. Soon everyone will know the truth. The faster I get out of here, the less likely I’ll be caught.
I’m not taking that chance.
A minute later, I’m pulling a suitcase from my closet and throwing it on the bed before grabbing items: clothes, my toothbrush, my laptop.
Thoughts run rampant. It shouldn’t take long for someone to find him. Q is strong; he most likely got up and hobbled his way back to his room. I’m not sure if he saw me, but that doesn’t matter. I’ll be far away from here by the time anyone starts putting the pieces together.
With that in mind, I pull out my phone to request a helicopter. It isn’t unusual for me to come and go at random times, meaning there shouldn’t be a question of why I’m flying out with a bag in hand. This time, there will be no return flight.
I have no idea where I’ll go. I only know I can’t stay here. The traitor who’ll soon have a price on his head. The would-be murderer.
Why, of all times, does Scarlet’s face now appear before me? A stupid question—I tried to kill her brother, which would make two siblings she’s lost. Besides Q, who else would I think about now? Leaving Corium is as good as admitting my guilt, which means not only cutting all ties with Q but with his family. His sister.