He drove right by it, but then he stopped. He pulled up to the curb and put the truck in park.
What the fuck was going on?
I turned to him, completely bewildered. Did he want me to go inside and grab a few things? Was he taking me somewhere else for a long time? Was there something in there that he wanted for himself? A keepsake of his victim?
He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled my cuffs closer to him. He dug out the key from his pocket, unlocked them, and then pulled the metal off my wrists. He left them on the seat between us and looked straight ahead.
Was this a test?
His deep voice shattered the silence. “You can go.” I didn’t look at him, watching the cars pass by until they disappeared in the distance.
“What?”
“I said you could go.” He turned his gaze to me, his blue eyes devoid of any emotion.
“Why? I don’t understand…”
“There’s not much to understand. I said you can leave, so leave.”
“Does that mean Damien took my place?” Did the thing I feared most come to pass? Was I going to lose my only brother? The man I looked up to? “I’d rather die than let anything happen to him.” I pushed my wrists toward him. “Take me back. Please.” I’d fought so hard to be free, was even willing to kill this guy for it, but now I asked for the exact opposite.
Without looking at my wrists, he pushed them away. “No. Damien isn’t taking your place.”
“Then why are you letting me go?”
He looked away. “Doesn’t matter. Get the hell out of my truck and go home.”
I looked toward my building and stared at the entryway before I turned back to him. “Is this a test? Are you going to come back for me later?”
“No test. No strings attached. And you’ll never see me again…thank fucking god.” He turned to look out the windshield, his arm resting along the windowsill. He was in a blue shirt and jeans, his tattoos stark against his fair skin. His short brown hair was unremarkable, and there was a shadow along his jawline that matched the darkness of his ink. I’d thought I understood this man, but now he was the biggest enigma I’d ever met.
“What’s going to happen to Damien?”
He took a long time to respond. “Liam is dealing with him directly. That’s all I’ll say about that.”
“So, you don’t need me anymore?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
God either answered my prayer, or I was just incredibly lucky. Or…he had something to do with it. I looked at my apartment again, but I didn’t get out of the truck.
“You fought me the entire time, tried to kill me with a goddamn plunger, and now we are literally at your doorstep…and you just sit there.”
“I just…” I turned back to him, staring at the side of his face. “I just don’t understand why you’re letting me go.”
He leaned his head back against the headrest and sighed. “I just told you.”
“No. I don’t understand why you are letting me go.”
After a few breaths, he turned back to me, his gaze dark and guarded. He probably hoped I wouldn’t figure out he was the one who’d granted me freedom. It wasn’t luck. It wasn’t prayer. It was all him. “Good luck, Catalina.”
Now that I knew this was real, that I really was free to go, I opened the door and got out. “My friends call me Cat…” This man could’ve been my executioner, but he’d decided to spare my life instead. I didn’t think of him as an enemy anymore.
He was still as cold as ever to me. “I don’t want to be your friend.” He leaned forward and grabbed the door handle before he slammed it shut. He gave me one final look of irritation before he pulled away from the curb and headed down the street.
I watched him go before I turned around and looked at my apartment. I’d thought I would never see it again. I’d thought I would die in that cage, but that my death would give my brother life and happiness.
Instead, the Skull King gave me those things.
Twenty-Three
Damien
I lost my fucking mind.
My woman was being held hostage somewhere, and I didn’t have a single lead, a single idea where she could be. What kind of man was I? How could I let this happen to her? I paced in my bedroom, needing to move constantly because sitting still made me feel worse.
Then I got a phone call…from the Skull King.
He’d refused to help me, to give me any clue, and he enjoyed making me suffer, enjoyed the taste of revenge. I almost didn’t answer, but in the back of my mind, I knew I couldn’t afford to reject any possibility. I answered. “Hope you’ve changed your mind.”