Dark Wish

He runs his fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe this.”

“It explains why Amelia chose to take Anna along with her,” I say.

“How did they even do it?” he asks.

“I don’t know. She won’t say, but I’ll find out sooner or later,” I reply. “But if we want these antics to stop, we need to ensure she confesses. And for that, I need her to confront her own guilt.”

“You mean, confront Anna,” he says.

“It might help her,” I say.

Tobias sighs out loud and sits back down again to grab her hand and softly caress it.

“I promise you, she will be safe,” I add.

He looks up at me. “I want to be there.”

“Deal,” I reply. “As long as she gets to have her moment.”

“I don’t want any of that escaping nonsense happening again. Not under my watch,” he says. “Anna was already done here. Her confession was completed. And Amelia ruined everything.”

“I know, and nothing about that has changed. Once she’s healed enough—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he interjects, his voice stern. “Just go. Do whatever you want. Leave me.”

I nod. When he doesn’t say another word, I turn around and walk off. As I open the door, he suddenly speaks up again. “They’ll be our end. Won’t they?”

I pause, contemplating my answer, but I realize there is none. None that would fix this impossible problem we’ve created. “She’ll be here tonight.”

Amelia

Nothing compares to seeing someone you care about lying motionless in a hospital bed. Wires and tubes come from Anna’s body, her pale face in stark contrast to the beautiful shine I saw mere hours ago when we both ran for our lives.

My heart is going a hundred miles an hour in my chest. At least, that’s what it feels like when I look at her as she lies there lifelessly and still like a doll wrapped in a thin sheet. Tobias sits beside her, guarding her with a watchful gaze as I enter the room.

I dare not make a sound, afraid he might jump me if I do.

But Eli said I could see her. Mary personally came to get me and escorted me here, so Tobias must have known I was coming. But I still don’t feel welcome.

I swallow as the door softly closes behind me, and I step closer from the shadows. The beeping of the machines feels like a reminder to breathe, each breath heavier than the one before as I get closer to the girl who’s supposed to be Anna.

What happened to her?

I sit down on the empty chair opposite Tobias and stare at her, wondering if she has any life in her left. If she got what she wanted after all.

“How is she?” I ask.

“Not well,” Tobias replies with a stoic voice, but the underlying hurt doesn’t escape me. He looks up at me, tears forming in his eyes, but he blinks them away quickly. “Severe pneumonia.”

I frown and look down at her, unable to stop myself from grabbing her hand. But she’s icy cold. “Will she make it?”

“I don’t know.” He slams his lips shut and looks at her with so much love and adoration that I freeze up. I’ve never seen a man look at a woman like that, not unless … they were in love.

But that can’t be right. She’s his captive, and he’s the bad guy. She couldn’t have liked him, right?

But what if she did, and I’m the one who convinced her not to?

A painful pang hits me right in the gut as I curl up and make myself tiny. Guilt is like a parasite, eating you up from the inside out, and it’s gotten in my stomach.

I look away before it gets to be too much.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she didn’t want to leave. Maybe … she just wanted to be understood.

He squeezes her hand so gently that I feel like I’m intruding on a personal moment. Warmth oozes from his body as he leans over and slides a few strands of hair from her forehead.

How could these men be so cruel yet so kind at the same time?

I don’t understand any of this, and it’s driving me insane because I’m starting to question who is actually the bad guy here. Is it them … or is it me?

Anna’s in this bed because of me. She escaped thanks to me, and then she sought to end it all. If I’d known, I would’ve never taken her along. But I didn’t ask. I was too focused on my own problems that I couldn’t see clearly. I was selfish.

“I’m sorry,” I say, swallowing back the tears when he looks up into my eyes with the most solemn look I’ve ever seen.

“Okay,” he replies.

“Okay?” I repeat.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“I … I …” I mutter. “I don’t know.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” he says.