Chapter Nineteen
“You’re just like your mother, you know. Both unrepentant of your destructive nature. Your mother nearly destroying my family. You, destroying Stephen, his career already suffering. Dreams he’d had since he was boy ruined. A slow death, I was thinking this time. Painful. Retribution for all the pain your family inflicted on mine. I hear you’re afraid of fire…”
Horrific images filled Kat’s head, imagining all the ways she could be tortured before she died, but none came even close to the paralyzing dread that clawed through her when she saw the can of gasoline, so ferocious it sent her into a blind panic, memories of the past converging with the present.
Too afraid to blink, Kat followed the stream of liquid, pouring out of the can in a zigzagging line beginning at the furthest point in the room, a diagonal path stretching from wall to wall, coming closer and closer to where she remained suspended from the ceiling, no chance of escape.
“So you can watch, feel that mind-numbing fear as the flame slowly snakes its way toward your feet, licks up your legs, eventually consuming every part of your body, the unimaginable, excruciating pain as it melts your skin. So reminiscent of burning a witch at the stake.”
And Kat watched as the long, wooden match was struck, its small flame almost hypnotic as she stared death in the eye.
“I’ll see you in hell.”
The horror of that night enveloped her all over again, unable to breathe until she watched Stephen rush through the door the same moment she kicked the judge, sending him into the inferno meant for her.
She watched herself on the laptop as she recoiled from Stephen, the look of terror on her face before she focused on the flames that were snaking their way toward them, Stephen using a gun to shoot through the rope binding her to the ceiling, catching her and carrying her toward the bedroom door, his grandfather’s horrifying screams filling her kitchen.
She sat there, stunned, breathing heavily long minutes after the video had stopped, her finger frozen in mid-air over the play button, telling herself to back away, to forget she’d ever seen it. But it was as if her finger had a mind of their own. Before she could stop herself, she hit the play button again, frozen in front the screen, unable to move, trapped once again in a nightmare for which there was no escape.
The bastard had filmed it.
Bile rose, the acid churning.
What kind of sick fuck did that?
And how the hell had Emma gotten a copy of it? Had she meant to air it? Would the network have allowed her to? Maybe with a warning. Due to the torture you’re about to see, viewer discretion is advised. If you have small children…
She reached out, pressing the play button again.
***
“Jesus Christ.”
Not an oath, but a prayer. Ethan lifted Kat from the chair a second after slamming the laptop closed. His heart still pounded from hearing those screams when he’d walked through the front door, the adrenalin still rushing through his system when he’d thought she was in trouble again, only to find it was coming from the computer, relief and terror warring.
“You’re okay, baby,” he repeated again and again, though he doubted she heard him. He held her tight, Kat’s body stiff in his arms as he sat her on the counter. She was cold to the touch despite the sweltering heat and humidity outside.
Shock. She was in shock. “Kat. Come on, baby. Come back to me.” He cupped her face with both hands, forcing her to look at him but her eyes were blank, a frozen stare that matched her frozen body. He pressed his lips to hers, whispering against her mouth before kissing her again. And it was nearly impossible to contain the rage coursing through him as he damned the judge to hell and back.
“You’re safe now. I’ve got you.” He gave her a gentle shake. What if he hadn’t come? He nearly hadn’t. But the thought that he’d scared her earlier in the day, well, he couldn’t live with that. Couldn’t leave the distance between them, distance that killed him more than anything else ever could, along with the fear that he was losing her. And could not, for another second, let her believe he didn’t want her.
“Come on, Kat.” He was becoming frantic now, unable to snap her out of it. He started rubbing his hands up and down her arms. Blankets. He needed to get her under some blankets. Lifting her in his arms, he turned.
And nearly ran into Stephen.
“Jesus, what’s wrong with her?”
Ethan sucked in a breath, fear surging through him in the second before his brain comprehended his life wasn’t in eminent danger. Which instantly turned to fury. And if Kat wasn’t in his arms, he’d already have Stephen on the floor by now. He hesitated, looking back at the laptop with its picture of a deserted island surrounded by a painfully blue ocean on its home screen. A perfect place to bring Kat, he thought. Away from the case she wouldn’t leave alone, away from the tension between them that he couldn’t seem to end.
And far, far away from Stephen Chandler. “She found the footage from that night. The footage that shows your honorable grandfather torturing her. Strung up by her arms while he poured a trail of gasoline to her feet. I don’t know how many times she watched it.”
He shoved past Stephen, heading toward the stairs. “Why don’t you watch it? Maybe it’ll act as a reminder that your family is poison to her. Now get the hell out of my way. Because honestly? I could kill you right now.”
But Stephen was hot on his heels. “How long has she been like this?”
“I have no idea. I just got here. She’s in shock, hardly fucking breathing, so I’ll say it again, get the hell out of my way so I can get her warm. You wanna help, make her something hot to drink.”
He didn’t stop again until she was in bed. He pulled a blanket over them, rubbing his hands up and down her arms, whispering comforting words in her ear. “Come on, baby,” Ethan urged, shaking her gently again.
And finally, finally, she blinked. For the first time since that night, he saw the tears fill her eyes and his heart broke all over again. Wrapping his hands at the nape of her neck, he pulled her into his chest, hoping his strength would soothe her, never pausing his litany of reassurances.
Eventually Stephen came up, a steaming mug in hands. Ethan refused to look at him, but couldn’t ignore him when he sat on the bed. “Get the fuck out, Stephen.”
Stephen didn’t say anything for a long time, the sound of Kat’s breathing filling the room, a sound he was so very grateful for.
“This happen a lot?”
“During the first few days.” But after that first week? He didn’t know. He’d been dealing with Emma’s bullshit.
“Where’d she get the video?”
Ethan tensed. In all the excitement, he’d forgotten about the damn drive. “I’m assuming she made a copy of the drive before she handed it over.” And now it was in Stephen’s hands. Worse, in Xavier’s.
Fuck.
***
“Put her in the middle,” Stephen said, setting his phone and gun on the nightstand before stretching out, unable to stop himself from running a strand of Kat’s hair through his fingers. He thanked God all Kat’s cameras were outside her house rather than inside. He couldn’t imagine what his brothers would have to say. Hell, he himself couldn’t believe he was in this fucked up position.
But if there was ever a time to talk to Ethan, this was probably it. He’d been waiting for Ethan to show up. He’d shown up every night. And Stephen couldn’t help but feel like with every night she slept in Ethan’s arms, he was coming closer and closer to losing her. And arguing that maybe it was for the best.
He'd been turned down for yet another position. The third one. The fourth, and final, would be the same, he knew. He was no longer clinging to any hope.
“Like hell I will. You did this to her.”
He’d watched the video, heard his grandfather’s taunts, the pure evil radiating from him as he tortured her, so much worse than Stephen had realized. But he’d had enough of the accusations, enough of the war. Enough of the fear every time she was out of his sight. “Now, Ethan, or so help me God, I’ll rip her from your arms. And just how do you think she’ll react when she wakes up?”
Kat would kick them both out. But if he wasn’t going to be in her bed, then Ethan wouldn’t either. Childish, he thought. She wasn’t a damned toy.
“You gonna play tug-of-war with her?”
“We already are.” Stephen sighed. Ethan relented and put her between them. He wondered how close Kat was to her breaking point. It scared the shit out of him. He didn’t want her making a rash decision, one she’d later regret. It wouldn’t end well for any of them. “Perhaps we should talk about that.”
“To what end?” Ethan sighed, sounding just as tired as Stephen felt. “So you can try and convince me she’s yours? Or I can do the same? It’s pointless.”
He supposed it was, Stephen thought. But he could at least make an attempt. “We’re destroying her. Forcing her to choose between us.”
“What the hell did you think would happen? I’m not prepared to step aside. And since you refuse to get the fuck out of her bed, it’s pretty safe to assume you’re not either.”
“You think she’ll truly be happy with without either of us?” But even as Stephen asked the question, he was uncertain. If Kat chose Ethan, would she miss him, Stephen wondered. In the beginning, maybe. They didn’t share a history, only a strong connection that defied words.
“You spent a week with her,” Ethan said. As if that said it all.
Ten days, he silently corrected. And yes, everything was stacked against him. Kat trusted Ethan, loved him. And from what he witnessed today, desired him. And Stephen couldn’t help but wonder where the hell that left him. He was clinging to the fact that she still desired him, still craved him as intensely as he craved her.
I missed you, Stephen. So much.
“You tore her heart out once already. Took that little bit of trust she’d given you and walked away. You really think she’ll ever forgive you for that?”
He wasn’t sure, so he said nothing.
“How could you possibly believe she loves you more than she loves me?”
Again, Stephen didn’t respond because he had no answer. “We’re killing her, Ethan. We need to figure this out.”
“I can’t give her up.”
And neither could he.
***
She was drowning in a sea of safety and warmth, so deep she never wanted to wake. But even as she tried to sink back into oblivion, her eyes fluttered open as she became more aware of her surroundings.
And stopped breathing.
She was sprawled on Stephen, her head on his chest, his arm around her back, holding her so tight, even in sleep. But her legs, those were tangled with Ethan’s, his hand resting on her bare stomach, underneath her T-shirt.
Clinging as if he’d never let her go.
Not good.
She still didn’t breathe. Didn’t move a muscle. They were both asleep, the first rays of dawn lightening the room, casting it in shadows, while the light rain outside threatened to pull her back under.
The last thing she remembered was watching that video…that horrible video relived in her nightmares, caught on film for eternity.
How she’d ended up here isn’t something she was ready to contemplate. Worse, she wasn’t ready to deal with the fighting that would ensue the second they were both awake.
The two most important men in her life, enemies. Would they ever come to a point where one of them could stand to be around the other? Probably too much to hope for. And as much as she’d just love to close her eyes and fall back to sleep between the two, pretend, even for a moment, that everything would work itself out, she knew it was impossible.
Escape.
She forced herself from the bed, slowly inching down so neither of them woke.