Fear And Anger
Rowan’s POV
My heart, for some reason, clenched, just the way my fists clenched around the steering wheel.
Something felt off.
I kept glancing at the rearview mirror, expecting to see her headlights, her old beat-up sedan trailing behind me.
But the road behind me? Empty.
No lights. No familiar bumper. No sign of Remi.
She said she’d be right behind us. That she just needed a minute. She said it with that look she gives when she’s lying and thinks I won’t catch it.
I should’ve stayed.
I should’ve known.
In the backseat, Laura’s pink stuffed bunny lay tilted against the window. A juice box rattled on the floor, still unopened. I’d packed the backseat myself with all their things—dolls, shoes, Larry’s books—trying not to look too eager, too… desperate.
But I was.
Desperate to fix something. To be better this time.
And now—
I gripped the wheel tighter, the pressure in my chest sharpening with every second.
I reached for my phone. No messages. No calls. Just a black screen and silence.
She said she was coming.
She didn’t come.
“Fuck,” I muttered, pulling the car over in a hard swerve. I hit the brakes, shifted into reverse, and spun the car around with practiced ease. My pulse pounded like war drums in my ears as the car shot back down the road, headlights cutting through the night.
The further I drove, the colder my hands got.
The quiet was wrong.
The whole day felt like it was built on a string of small, delicate lies.
I just didn’t think they’d snap this soon.
As the street twisted and the familiar path home came into view, my stomach dropped.
Remi’s car was still there.
Parked in the same place.
Unmoved.
Untouched.
But the porch light was off.
And the front door—slightly open.
I slammed the car into park, barely managing to shut the door behind me before I ran up the steps.
“Remi!” I called. “Remi—”
Silence.
Just the echo of my voice against empty walls.
I pushed the door open fully, heart hammering.
The house was still.
No laughter. No footsteps. No twin voices calling out.
And then—
Something caught my eye.
Down the hallway.
Just beyond the arch near the kitchen.
A body.
Sprawled.
Face down.
The guard I left stationed outside.
I stumbled forward, knees nearly buckling as I dropped beside him and turned him over.
Blood.
So much of it, soaking into his jacket.
His eyes were wide open. Glassy.
Dead.
“Oh no,” I whispered, my throat dry.
The metallic smell of blood hit me all at once.
I yanked out my phone, hit Callum’s number. He had finally decided to work again after I apologized and promise to give him an holiday. It wasn't that hard.
Anyways, he picked up on the second ring.
“Sir?”
“She’s gone,” I said hoarsely. “Remi’s gone. And my guard is dead.”
A beat of silence. Then, “I’m sending the team now.”
I dropped the phone, hands shaking.
This wasn’t a robbery.
This wasn’t some random break-in.
This was calculated.
Personal.
And the only person who knew Remi stayed behind…
Was Asher.
My jaw clenched. I stood slowly, the sound of my own breathing too loud in my ears.
I turned back toward the kitchen, eyes scanning the floor.
The knife drawer was open.
One blade missing.
She fought.
She fought.
But someone got to her anyway.
I ran a hand down my face, trying to think. Trying not to lose it.
I looked at the living room couch—the same spot where she’d once sat with a blanket around her shoulders, hair messy, telling me not to get the wrong idea.
She was here.
She was safe.
And now—
Now I didn’t know where the hell she was.
I looked back down at the guard’s lifeless body.
Whoever did this… they didn’t come to scare her.
They came to take her.
And I was going to bring her back.
Even if I had to burn down the whole damn city to do it.
*****
Remi's Pov
"Ugh… my head," I groaned.
The words came out thick, slurred, like they were pushing through wet cement. My tongue felt too big for my mouth, my throat dry as sand. I blinked, once, twice—blurry shapes slowly coming into focus.
Dim candlelight flickered along the walls. Shadows danced across old wallpaper, the color of fading honey. The air was warm and laced with something floral, faint but cloying. I wasn’t sure if it was real or just my senses short-circuiting.
I sat up too fast.
Pain spiked behind my eyes.
"Shit—" I hissed, clutching my temple.
The bed creaked beneath me. Not mine. Not my sheets. The fabric beneath my fingers was embroidered—thick, heavy, unfamiliar. A lace throw was draped at the foot of the bed. Something antique. Expensive.
I looked around.
Bookshelves, old and stuffed full. A tall vanity. A wardrobe in the corner with peeling paint and iron handles. A vase with roses sat by the window—wilting.
I didn’t know this room.
But… it felt familiar.
In a distant, eerie, dreamlike way.
The kind of place you swore you’d seen before. Maybe in a childhood memory. Maybe in a nightmare.
My heart began to pound, slow but hard. I kicked off the covers and stood—barefoot. My shoes were gone.
So was my phone.
I crossed the floor carefully. The boards groaned with every step. I tried the door.
Locked.
Not like “oops you forgot to unlock it” locked.
Secured.
I backed away, the pressure in my chest rising.
Then I heard it.
Footsteps.
Approaching.
I turned just as the doorknob rattled.
And then opened.
“Asher?” My voice cracked.
He stepped inside carrying a tray—two mugs, a small bowl of soup, a plate with toast. Calm. Peaceful. Like this was some lazy weekend at a countryside inn and not a goddamn kidnapping.
His eyes softened when they landed on me. “You’re awake.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “What the hell is going on?”
“You fainted,” he said gently, like that explained everything. “I brought you something warm. You need to rest.”
He walked past me and set the tray on the nightstand beside the bed.
I took a step back. “Fainted?” I echoed. “Are you out of your mind?”
“You were overwhelmed,” he said, not looking at me. “The stress. Everything moving so fast. I told you you needed rest.”
“You drugged me, Asher.”
He finally looked up. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You wouldn’t have come otherwise.”
“You think this is okay?” I asked, pointing to the door. “You locked me in a room. You dragged me to—God knows where—and you think soup is going to make it better?”
He sighed like I was being difficult. “I didn’t want it to be like this.”
“Then why is it like this?”
He sat on the edge of the bed, folding his hands between his knees. “Because I couldn’t watch you walk away again.”
I pressed my back to the wall, my breath turning shallow.
“You said you wanted me to be safe,” I said slowly. “That’s what this is about, right? Protection? Then why do I feel like a prisoner?”
“You’re not a prisoner,” he said immediately. “You’re—”
“—locked in a room,” I cut in. “With no ph
one. No contact. No idea where I am. That’s not safety, Asher. That’s abduction.”
His jaw twitched. “I told you. I didn’t want to do it like this. But you didn’t give me a choice.”
“There’s always a choice,” I spat. “You just made the worst one.”
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