Unfortunately, my options are incredibly limited, so I grab the object closest to me; an iron. Detaching the cord, I drop it to the floor, hook my fingers around the plastic handle, and exit the room.
Shuffling my feet, I do my best to avoid creaky floorboards, advancing down the hall with my back against the wall, flipping on lights as I go. The main level is clear, completely empty from what I can tell, but that yellow glow still drifts from upstairs, so I move toward it.
I’m hoping that maybe I just forgot to turn the light off. Or maybe, for some insane reason, Riley decided to come back and wait. Maybe she watched the concert and hoped I’d be back, so she cut out the middle territory.
Even as those thoughts swim in my brain, I know they’re not plausible. And when I crest the top of the stairs, my grip tightening on the iron as my stomach sinks to my ass, those fears are confirmed.
Riley lies prone on her back, hands zip-tied behind her, duct-tape slapped across her mouth. She’s staring blankly at the wall in front of her, and I see a little puddle of blood trickling out of a wound in her side.
My eyes go wide, bulging so hard that I think they might fall from their sockets, as I take her in; in the pale lighting, I can see bruises scattered across her forehead, and there are claw marks on the wooden floor around her.
Like she tried to fight off whoever did this.
I slip to the end of the hall where the bedroom is, leaning in to scan it quickly. Other than Riley, I don’t see anyone else, and since I’m not sure what the fuck is going on, or how much time we have before they come back, I spring into action.
Her blue eyes snap to mine as I hurry over to her, immediately using my keys to try and saw the zip tie apart. It doesn’t work; she’s squirming, freaking the fuck out as I try to work her free, and the keys are too dull for the material keeping her bound.
Fear swirls in her ocean eyes as I turn her head up, ripping the tape from her mouth.
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask, brushing my fingers against her temple. “What happened to you?”
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” she sobs, spitting blood onto the floor, and I can’t tell at first if she’s having some kind of breakdown or what. Gripping her shoulders, I roll her so she’s on her good side, trying to get her to focus.
“You can’t be here,” she says, tears welling up in her eyes.
Under any other circumstance, my dick would be positively fucking throbbing at the sight, but right now, with her fear and hysteria aimed at someone other than me, all it does is enrage me.
“Why the fuck are you here?”
“I was coming to you,” she whispers, pausing mid-sob to say it. “I saw your concert, and I wanted… I wanted—”
“She wanted to let you know that she’s a dirty little trailer whore who doesn’t deserve you.”
The addition of a new voice takes me completely off guard, and I whirl around to see a somewhat familiar face lurking in the doorway.
Platinum-blonde hair. Dark, almond-shaped eyes.
A sneer I’d love to smack off her smug little face.
The girl I met at the art gallery walks into the room, grinning maniacally at the two of us. Fuck, what was her name? Moira, Molly, Michelle?
Keeping her hands behind her back, she enters the room slowly, her gaze volleying between Riley and me.
I shift so I’m positioned more in front of Riley’s face and chest and turn to glare at the intruder. “Didn’t you two used to be friends? Why have you tied her up and beaten her?”
“Not my fault you couldn’t finish your job.” She moves to lean against the full bed on one side of the room, and when she does, she folds her arms across her chest, brandishing a giant kitchen knife.
My eyes widen, my posture stiffening at it casually rests against her hip.
“Sometimes, people get distracted on their journeys,” she says, lifting a shoulder. “You’re lucky you have me to help finish things, Aiden.”
The way my name rolls off her tongue, smooth and heavy like whipped cream, makes the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. People I’ve never met knowing my name and using it in conversation is something I had to get used to over the years, but the attempt at adding a layer of seduction is something most people don’t really do.
Usually, they’re too starstruck to really flirt, or my general disposition puts them off. But this girl is clearly trying, and it almost keeps her words from registering as I try to dissect her tone.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
She laughs, her face tipping toward the ceiling. “You were supposed to ruin her! It’s what all the correspondence between you and your father stated up until you came here. Expose her for the lying snake she is, tell the world she faked her death because she felt guilty about accusing you of raping her, and turn the entire public against her. That was the plan.”
When I glance at Riley from the corner of my eye, I notice hers are closed. Unease cramps my gut, and I scoot so there’s less space between us, hoping the warmth of my presence is enough to counteract our ugly reality.
Taking a deep breath, I nod at the girl across the room. “How do you know that?”
“I’m your soul mate, Aiden James Santiago. I know everything about you.” A strangled noise comes from Riley’s throat, and the girl cocks her head, pushing off the bed to make her way over to us. “Is there a problem, little girl? I don’t think I was fucking talking to you.”
“You’re not his soul mate,” Riley mutters, her cheek pressing into the floor and garbling her words. “You’re just insane.”
The girl’s dark eyes flare, unkempt fires blazing as she angles the tip of the knife in Riley’s direction. “Shut the fuck up, or I’ll carve the other side of your mouth so your scars match.”
Swallowing, I keep my gaze on the blade, watching for the slightest movement. My fingers find the iron handle beside me, and I inch my way around them, trying to determine how quick I’d have to be with the brunt force before she lashed out and nicked me.
“Look, M—” I trail off, cringing hard when her name still doesn’t come to me.