The thug circles left. I mirror him, keeping the coffee table between us. My eyes scan for anything—a weapon, an exit. The basement has one window, too small to climb through. One staircase. The one he's blocking.
I am in deep shit.
Chapter 14
Zeus
I approach the spare room where London moved her things.
I don’t know how long I’m supposed to give a woman who asks for space. Hours? Days?
Well, it’s been hours that feel like days.
I’m probably fucking up by not staying away longer, but I can’t stand it anymore.
I knock. Then wait. Then knock again.
Nothing.
I knock harder. "Sweetheart. Open up."
No response. No shuffle of feet. No creak of mattress springs.
I reach for the knob and push the door open.
The room is empty. Completely empty. The bed is made up. Her duffel isn’t here. Her shoes aren't by the door. Her jacket isn't on the hook.
I'm already crossing to the closet—empty. The bathroom is dry. Not a single trace that she was ever here.
My fist connects with the wall before I make the conscious decision to swing. Plaster cracks. Pain explodes across myknuckles, but it’s not enough. I hit it again. Then, a third time. The drywall gives way, leaving a jagged hole.
She left. She’s gone.
She found out the truth about her father—about what I did—and she walked out on me.
I brace both hands against the damaged wall, head hanging between my arms, and force air through my lungs. The ragged sound fills the empty room.
I can't blame her. Can't even be angry. I killed her father. I kept that truth from her for over a week while I fucked her and held her and let her believe she was safe with me. Of course she ran.
I deserve this.
An hour later, the barstool supports my weight the way it's supported it hundreds of times these past six months. Whiskey fills the glass in front of me. I haven't touched it yet. I just stare at the amber liquid. "There he is."
I don't look up. Three sets of footsteps approach, and then I’m surrounded.
Rowan to my left, Kayla and Sarah to my right. Sarah leans against the bar with her arms crossed.
"You look terrible," Sarah says.
“I feel worse."
"Good." Rowan's voice carries zero sympathy. "You deserve to feel terrible. Sitting here drinking while your woman is out there alone."
"She's not my woman anymore." The admission burns my tongue like acid. "She left me.”
“Pfft. Men!” Kayla huffs. "You honestly think she left because she doesn’t want you anymore?”
“Of course,” I spit out the words maybe a little too harshly. “She found out I killed her father, and she walked. Message received."