They took him away. They took him away from me. Jase pried my fingers back and Sebastian pulled me away as I screamed. The memory loops over and over again, but itâs not me. Iâm merely watching it happen like the scenes of a movie.
âIt hurts so much,â I struggle to say out loud and I donât know who can hear me because I donât even know whoâs around me.
âYou need to change, Aria.â I hear Jaseâs voice, and the tremors rocking through my body only pick up.
âIs he okay?â I cry the words and he lets me fall into his embrace. When I look forward, Nikolai is watching. He saved me. He saved Carter.
âTheyâre doing what they can,â is all Jase tells me in hushed words, as if we shouldnât be talking and the tears fall, but I donât cry any longer. Instead I take in the room. I take in everyone. How did I even get down the stairs? How did I get here, and why are Nikolai and my fatherâs men in the same room with Jase and Sebastian? There are other men here too. Men from both sides.
My face is hot; my pulse runs fast. Before I can beg him to take me to Carter, and bring him back to see me, I hear another voice.
âThis truce isnât going to last long.â Brettâs voice carries through the room along with the sound of several guns.
The sound of guns raised quickly behind me, and seeing guns on all sides, heats my blood.
âPut them down.â The words are torn from me and Iâm quick to push Jase away. Iâm walking on shaky legs, but with purpose until I rip the gun from his hand.
This war is over.
The bloodshed is over.
Iâm fucking done with it.
A look of shock is written on Brettâs face, but I have no mercy for him. There is no mercy for anyone, not anymore.
âThereâs been more than enough death today.â
Carter. My heart rips in half at the thought of him dying. Heâs barely hanging on and Iâm not by his side. I canât stop seeing his face. Or hearing the way he said my name.
The gun is hot in my hands and I turn to my left. Standing in front of the staircase, I slam the gun down on the table, shaking the precious vase my mother used to fill with flowers when I was a child. I declare, âI wonât allow any more to happen.â The darkly spoken words leave me even though I turn to no one.
In my periphery, I barely see the men lower their guns. Their eyes burn into me, wondering if I have any authority, and I wonder the same.
This needs to end, and I need to go to Carter. Itâs all I can think as the emotions well up in my throat.
âWe want Romano dead,â Jase speaks and his voice carries through the large space and all the way up to the tall ceilings.
âFight with me,â I tell him, hardening my words and feeling the anxiety stretch in every limb I have. Every inch of my body is hot. Every pulse seems loud and hard.
âSomeone needs to pay for all this. And that man is Romano,â I whisper to Jase, although itâs loud enough for all in this room to hear.
âMy father is dead, but I wonât let anyone else die, not on your side,â my voice tightens as I tell him, looking Jase in the eyes, âand not on mine. Is that understood?â
Jaseâs lip quirks. âIt is,â he says, and then turns to Nikolai.
âWhat about your father?â Brett asks me.
âHe betrayed my mother and his loyalty,â I speak up although my words are choked. I donât know what to think or believe; all I know is that heâs dead and my mother is never coming back. I donât have any answers, Iâll never have a way to acquire them. âMy fatherâs reign is over, and thatâs all that matters.â
âWho reigns now?â someone to my right asks and the room resonates with the sound of shifting feet.
âWe reign together.â I donât hesitate to speak up. My voice is clear and carries strong conviction. âUntil Romano is ten feet under, thatâs the top priority for all of us.â I feel lightheaded with the tense air and the lack of a clear answer. âRight?â I push out the word, daring either Nikolai or Jase to disagree.
âCross.â The word is practically spit from Nikâs mouth and the air thickens and practically suffocates me as I watch the men meet face to face.
âWhatâs the status of your war, Hale?â Itâs been a while since Iâve heard anyone call Nikolai by his last name.
âMy war?â he asks with a crease in his forehead, stepping up to Jase.
âI donât want to fight,â Jase tells him easily, letting his tense shoulders fall and moving his hand away from his gun. My heart pitter-patters and Nik steps back slightly. âI agree with Aria,â Jase says and swallows thickly, looking Nikolai in the eyes. âI side with her on this. We all fight together.â
âYou were on his side before,â Nikolai comments as whispers spread through the room like wildfire. The hissing of the words doesnât stop when Jase speaks up along with Sebastian, explaining that Romano is now an enemy and they would rather side with me and my family than with Romano any longer.
âI have to admit, Iâm surprised to still see you here,â Brett says after a moment of quiet to Sebastian. âItâs been a long time since youâve come around.â The air between the two of them is easy. They must know each other. Maybe from a time before this, Iâm not sure.
âI chose my side.â
âAnd what side is that?â
âThe one with Aria.â
My cousinâs lips kick up into a half smirk. âI like that side,â he tells Sebastian.
âYou need men?â Jase asks and Nikolai answers, âWe need guns.â
âWe have guns,â Sebastian says easily as he leans against the wall.
âWe can come to an agreement,â I say to break up the conversation, ready for it to end. âThere will be no more death between us.â My voice carries a note of finality with it and no one disagrees as I walk to the end of the staircase, staring up its vacant space as I grip the railing.
The side of the house it leads to gives me an eerie feeling. A sickness in my gut. A fear that doesnât come from logic or truth.
The type of fear that lingers and creeps up on you. A fear of what has passed and is no longer. Death is stained in these halls. And with death, darkness.
âWhere is Carter?â I ask and turn quickly, facing each man who was in that room, each man who pried me away from Carter as he lay on the floor, bleeding out with no sign of stopping.
Nikolai doesnât answer, and neither does Sebastian. The men on my fatherâs side are quiet, but they watch me. I donât care if they do.
They should all know. I love him. I chose him.
âWe didnât have time for the doctor to come to us. Heâs in the hospital,â Jase answers me.
âAnd?â I ask, the word barely spoken.
âAnd weâre waiting.â
I wonât cry in front of these men. I wonât cry with an army watching my every move, an army who need strength and decisiveness. So I only nod.
âAria, Iâll handle this,â Sebastian tells me and my cousin nods at him.
âWhat do we do with the house?â Connor asks. Iâve just learned heâs Nikâs second-in-command. âThe cops may stay back, but reporters are going to come soon.â
The men start to talk. A few at once, and I cut them all off.
âBurn it down.â The words come from a place of hurt. A place of pain. âBurn this house to the ground,â I give each word the hate theyâve earned before turning calmly to the men, still gripping the railing and telling them, âIt was a house fire⦠and nothing more.â
Silence and shock greet me. The house is eerily quiet, and from this day on, thatâs all it will ever be.
I donât know if these men will stick to the quick truce weâve made or what will happen once I leave, but Iâm done with all of it. The useless killing and the constant threats especially.
Before a single man can respond, I hold Jaseâs gaze and demand, âTake me to him.â Finally releasing the railing, I step forward, my pace confident even as I fall apart, and head to the door. My stride doesnât slow and it doesnât wait for anyone.
I need Carter.
The war has changed; the players have transitioned, and pawns have been taken.
None of it matters if he dies though.
I need Carter.
Are you okay?
I stare at the message on my phone for the longest time. The hospitalâs waiting room is vacant with the only exceptions being Addison and myself. I only left Carterâs side because the nurse said I had to. Only four people are allowed to be in the room at one time. Sebastian and Carterâs three brothers wanted to see him and Iâd been in there since the moment we got here. Itâs been ten hours now.
I slept by his side, my hand in his and my cheek on the edge of his bed. I was only in and out of sleep though and each time I fell to the depths of a dream, he was there, waiting for me.
He holds me in my dream and tells me itâs okay. But itâs not. Itâs not okay. And I tell him that over and over again. He needs to come back to me. I need him here. I canât live without him.
With tears clouding my vision, I look at the message again and instead of answering Nikolai, I ask him the same.
Are you?
It took me a while to message him back, but his reply is immediate: My answer depends on yours.
âYou okay?â Addison asks, breaking the silence in the room. The only sound is a clock at the far end of the waiting room clicking each time the numbers change. It mocks us.
Swallowing down the ragged lump in my throat, I grab her hand when she reaches for mine and I squeeze tight, but then I let her go, moving it back to my phone. âJust a message,â I answer her weakly. Everyone asks if Iâm okay, as if thatâs even a possibility right now.
Wiping under my eyes gently with the sleeve of the baggy black hoodie Sebastian gave me, I shake my head.
âIâm right here,â Addison says with a weak smile that doesnât last. It merely flickers on her face.
âAnd Iâm here for you,â I tell her back and she leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder for just a moment before bringing her knees into her chest and wrapping herself in the blanket Daniel gave her. The waiting room is so cold. But I suppose itâs better that way.
I didnât expect for this to happen. I finally answer Nik.
For what? he asks.
I want to tell him â all of it. To be taken, to fall in love, to learn who I am and what I want. I havenât told Addison or anyone about the baby. Only a nurse, who I confided in because I was scared with everything that had happened. I was scared the baby would be gone. She said she wouldnât be able to tell me unless I was at least six weeks pregnant. So now, itâs a matter of waiting.
Itâs all a matter of waiting.
Talk to me. Where are you? Nik messages me.
Hospital. Heâs not okay. As I write the last word and press send, that sick feeling of loss weighs me down.
You really love him? Nik answers me with the question and I donât wait to tell him that I do. To admit it.
I want to stay with him, Nikolai. I need him to be okay.
I wait and wait this time as he types but doesnât send anything. All Iâm given is a bubble of dots, letting me know heâs there, but the words donât come.
I donât want to lose you, I write to him before he can answer. I can feel him slipping away in my heart. As if him realizing I truly love Carter and Carter loves me, is the last string breaking that once held us together.
Heâll never let us be friends. If I was him, I wouldnât.
I know heâs right, but it hurts. Saying goodbye is never easy.
I wonât work under him, Aria. I have to leave.
I donât even know if heâll be all right, I message him back. Itâs selfish of me to want for him to be there for me, even knowing this is goodbye, but Nikolai has always let me be selfish. Heâs always loved me. And Iâll forever love him. Just not the way I love Carter, and he deserves for someone to love him that way. Everyone needs someone to love like this. With your whole body and soul. To be consumed by it.
Heâll be okay. Carter knows how to fight. And thereâs no way heâd let me have you. Heâll come back just to keep me from you.
Nikâs words break me. I know this will be the end of us and whatever we had. All heâll ever be anymore is a memory.
Iâll always be here for you, but you have to reach out to me. I wonât be something that comes between the two of you. Iâm here for you, but when he comes back to you, you know I canât be there anymore.
I love you, is all I can tell him. My last words to him.
Always, he messages back. His last words to me.
Heâs right. I already know Nikolai is right. Whether heâs just a friend or more, doesnât matter. Itâs either Nikolai or Carter and between the two, thereâs no decision to be made. It was always Carter.
But he needs to come back to me.
âI need you,â I whisper the words, gripping my phone in both of my hands as I lean forward, praying to anyone who will listen.
The last time the doctor came out, they said the surgery was done. Itâs only a matter of whether or not heâll wake up. And they donât know that he will.
He canât leave me like this. Itâs all I keep thinking. How selfish am I in this moment, but I am. I need him. Carter canât leave me. He canât leave me alone. Not when itâs finally over. My hand slips to my belly. Not when I didnât even tell him he has another life to care for.
My bottom lip wobbles as I let my head fall back against the hard wall and stare up at the stark white ceiling of the waiting area outside Carterâs room.
âI need you,â I whimper the words and I donât know if Iâm speaking to Carter, the man I love who can do nothing but try to survive, or my mother. Praying to her to do something. To save him and to keep me from being left alone in this cold world.
âI need you,â the whispered plea that comes from me is ragged as I close my eyes.
The last time I spoke these words like this was when I held my motherâs dead body as she lay on the floor. In the room above where my father used to work.
My eyes slowly open as Carterâs story comes back to me.
He said I knocked on the door.
He said I told my father I needed him.
He claims it was my voice.
And all the while I thought he was wrong because I never went to that side of the house. Not since I last spoke those very words and my mother died. All because I swear I used to feel her there. I never roamed to that side; it scared me to even think of going, because I felt her and I know she was angry. Bitter and waiting for something I couldnât give her.
Slowly the twine unravels in my mind. The truth pricks chills down my spine.
I donât know who knocked on the door. I donât know if thatâs why my father stopped and let Carter go or not.
But I know where those words came from.
How could my words, spoken on the floor above Carter when my father nearly beat him to death, be echoed years later? How could he have heard my pleas and think they were meant for him?
I never knocked on the door, that wasnât me, but I did cry out, âI need you.â Only it was years before Carter would ever be brought into the room beneath the bedroom where my mother was murdered.
Those words were given to my mother. I spoke them, I know I did.
But they werenât for Carter. They were never meant for him or my father.
Years later, I think my mother gave them to him. She gave them to a vulnerable boy on the brink of death, so close to the edge of a place she lingered. She gave them to him, a helpless boy caught in a horrid place, who would turn into a ruthless, merciless man. And he would one day, give her revenge in return.
The story is there, tickling the edge of my mind, and it keeps me frozen in my seat, gripping the edge of the chair.
The last few months play out in my head, slow motion for some moments, and only glimpses for other scenes.
The only reason I fell into Romanoâs trap was because Nikolai took my drawing pad⦠the one that had my motherâs picture in it.
I only fought for it because of the picture.
Swallowing is futile; my pulse quickens and an anxiety I havenât felt since I ventured into the east wing of my fatherâs house returns. The wing where my mother died.
I remember the way I felt when I stabbed Stephan. My skin felt like ice. And there was a hand, a hand over mine that wouldnât stop. I couldnât stop stabbing him. The thought is sobering to my tired mind. The exhaustion that weighs my eyelids down seems to vanish as I try to swallow, each of the events that have led me to this point falling into place in my mind like puzzle pieces.
A chill spreads over my skin as I hold on to the armrest of the chair with a white-knuckled grip. My blood runs even colder, and I canât shake it. I canât shake the freezing fear that flows through me. Itâs something unnatural and my thoughts make no sense. Itâs not truth. Itâs not real. Itâs only a coincidence.
Still, I turn slowly, ever so slowly to Addison and ask her, barely breathing the words, âDo you think the ones we lost stay with us forever in some way?â
âRia,â Addison breathes out as she takes my hand in both of hers, freeing it from gripping the armrest and pats the top of it soothingly. âHeâs going to make it,â she says and her voice is hoarse with emotion.
I shake my head, rubbing under my eyes with the hand she doesnât have and telling her, âNo, not him. Not Carter.â A second passes, one painful beat in my chest before I look into her soft gaze and ask, âDo you think others, others we loved but who have passed stay with us?â
She searches my gaze for only a moment before nodding her head.
âThey must.â Her answer is final with no room for doubt.
At the same time as the doctor walks through the doorway, heading straight to us, Addison adds, âEven death canât sever love.â