ELIJAH
When I woke up in the morning, the spot where I'd left Red was empty and cold. She'd been gone a long time.
I searched every inch of the cottage but couldn't find her. I couldn't believe she'd left after last night - after the most amazing night I've ever had. I wish we could've just stayed in that moment. Forever.
But yet again, she chose something else over me. And the worst part? I couldn't be mad at her. But I couldn't help being mad at the same time.
My eyes fell on the note she left. I read it over and over, hoping she'd magically appear and tell me she'd changed her mind.
I didn't think she heard me when I told her I loved her. I was caught up in the moment when I said it, but I don't regret it. I don't feel differently about it, because it's the only word that comes close to how I feel about her.
That's why I was standing outside her house now, hoping to convince her. Just one last time. Maybe this time it would work. I couldn't give up on her. Especially not now that I knew she loved me too.
I rang the doorbell for the second time. Under different circumstances, I'd be standing in enemy territory right now. But I still wouldn't care.
This time, the door finally opened. But the last person I wanted to see was on the other side.
"Fancy seeing you here," Ezekiel said.
I wasn't in the mood for him. "I'm not here for your stupid jokes," I said, boredom flat in my voice. "Where's Red?"
"She's not here," he said. I couldn't tell if he was lying or not.
"I'm being serious. I need to talk to her."
"And I'm telling you she's not here," he said, this time with more force. "Don't believe me? You can look for yourself." He opened the door wider, inviting me in.
Because I didn't trust him - or anyone, for that matter - I walked in.
"Don't mind the mess," Zeke said, gesturing to the broken vases, the slanted frames, the sofa cushions riddled with bullet holes. "We're still cleaning up the mess you and your men made."
"It was well deserved," I shot back.
"So where's her room?" I asked.
"Upstairs. Third room on the left," he said, and I didn't wait for him to change his mind.
When I got to her room, it was empty. She really wasn't here.
And it was only then that I realized I'd never been in her room before. Looking at it now, it made sense that it was hers.
It was filled with pictures, affirmations taped to the mirror, dried flowers pressed between book pages, and the faint scent of vanilla and old paper. Organized chaos. Soft, but with sharp edges - just like her.
Her walls were a light grey. White shelves lined them, stacked with books, a fake alarm clock, her perfumes. A calendar hung nearby, and there were posters too - but they didn't look tacky or childish. Lived-in. Her.
Her bedside table had more books, but what caught my attention was her walk-in wardrobe.
Empty.
From top to bottom. Not a single hanger, not a stray shoe.
My brows pulled together in confusion.
"She left," a voice said, and I froze.
"What?" I turned to Zeke in the doorway.
"She left at six this morning to catch her flight."
I shook my head, disbelief choking me. Why? How?
"You're lying to me."
"She left you a letter," he said. "Actually, she left letters for all of us before she went. But she had this box..." He trailed off, stepping into the room. He went to her bedside, slid open a drawer, and pulled out a rectangular box.
"She told me to give you this. I don't know what's inside, but she practically begged me to tell you to read whatever's in it."
But I didn't care. I wanted her here. Now.
"What time is her flight boarding?"
"What?"
"What time, dammit? I need to catch her flight."
He sighed. "I'm not telling you that."
"But I need to know!" I snapped, shoving him against the wall with frustration.
Zeke glared at me as he shoved me back. "Getting angry at me isn't going to do anything. What part of I don't want to tell you and I can't do you not understand?"
"Listen, I don't care what you want or what you can't do," I snapped. "I won't sit idly by while the love of my life is flying off to God knows where."
"That doesn't matter, Elijah."
"What do you mean?" I stared at him, incredulous. "Are you hearing yourself right now? We're talking about Nadia. How—why would you let her go anyway?"
"Because that's what she wanted, Elijah." His voice was steel, but tired. "I couldn't force her to stay and live a life she didn't want. It's my job to protect her. And if that means protecting her from me, then so be it. She's been thinking of leaving for a while now. And as much as I didn't want to, I had to let her go. She did this for herself. I had to respect that."
"Well, I don't care what you had to do," I said. "I just need to see her. Even if it's for the last time."
Zeke's jaw clenched, but something in his gaze shifted.
"Fine," he said finally. "But if she's gone by the time you get to the airport, you let her go. You know why I'm saying this."
"No. Actually, I don't."
"Don't give me that crap, Elijah. You know damn well that you're in charge now since Vincent died. If your enemies find out you have a weakness that big, they wouldn't hesitate to use her as bait to get what they want from you. This is a dangerous game you're playing. And I'll be damned if I lose my sister because of you."