Endless (Merciless 4)

“What if she saw him the way we do?” he suggests and stares at me expectantly.

“I can’t even begin to understand why you would think that’s a good idea.”

“Let Aria see. Let her see you give him the chance to walk away, and show her the side of him she doesn’t know about.”

“Why-” I almost question my brother’s sanity until I realize he thinks I’m fucked up today because of Nikolai. He has no idea what weight I’m carrying today, but his first guess is that it has to do with Aria and Nikolai.

“You think that she’d be all right with him dying then? You’re wrong.” I don’t give him a moment to respond.

“I don’t give a fuck about Nikolai, and I’ve resigned myself to the fact that Aria is going to hate me for what I’m about to do. What she knows and doesn’t know is irrelevant.”

Defeat crosses Jase’s expression when I tell him a truth I wish didn’t exist.

“She loved him first, I know that. And she loves me now.” I swallow thickly and then tell him, “A part of her will always love him, but a part will always love me too.”

“I’m struggling here,” Jase says and runs a hand through his hair. “Something’s wrong.”

How could he not see? How could anyone not understand?

“I don’t know how this is supposed to end any other way but with us apart.”

There’s no way for this to end other than for her to hate me, or for me to die.

“She understands-”

“And I understand she’ll hate me when it’s over,” I cut him off with my rushed words. “What everyone needs to understand is that even if…” I have to pause and take a deep breath, staring past my brother at the closed door as I continue, “Even if she leaves… Even if she decides she can’t live with…” I’ve thought of this ending so many times, but I’ve never fully accepted it until this moment.

“Even if she doesn’t want me anymore when this is all over, I want her protected. I want her safe. Even if she can’t live with being my wife, my lover, my … everything. Even still, I need everyone to know that she’s protected and that she’ll always be mine.”

Chapter 13

Aria

Carter never changed the lock.

It’s funny how regret sweeps through me as I open the front door. My hand is heavy with it and as I look over my shoulder, back down the hall, so are my legs. When I put my hand to the scanner, I didn’t expect for it to work. I didn’t think it would be so effortless.

Saying goodbye is never easy. Especially the kind of goodbye that’s final. The kind that hurts to say out loud, but it hurts even more when buried deep down inside.

I only stand in the doorway for a moment before I feel the breeze in the early evening air. I’m surprised no one’s running down the hall when I close the door behind me.

Even more surprised when I wrap my arms around each other, careful with my left shoulder, although it’s feeling better now with the pain pills I found in the half bath’s medicine cabinet.

The wind brushes my hair from my shoulder, exposing my skin to the cold. Goosebumps flow over my skin as I take each step down, each step farther away from Carter.

Part of me wonders if he’s watching. Another part knows that he is.

He won’t let me get far. I already know that, but I need to know how far he’ll allow before someone will come and scoop me up to take me back to him.

Whether it happens today, or tomorrow, or a week from now, I’ll never stop trying to leave. I repeat those words in my head as I take another step.

I don’t think of the reasons. There are too many at this point, and only the outcome matters.

I can’t stay here any longer. This isn’t the life I want. It’s never been more clear than it is now.

My pace doesn’t slow until I get to a metal gate at the end of the drive. I hadn’t seen it before through all the trees, and I guess it was open last time when the cars drove through.

I can’t imagine they keep anything out but vehicles, because the gaps in the intricate metal are plenty wide enough for a person to pass through.

And I do.

My fingers grip the cold iron and I duck my head as I turn to slip through the bars.

Peering back at the house, I know he’s watching and when I turn back to the remaining driveway that carries on for at least a quarter mile and then weaves through a thick forest, I know he’s going to stop me soon. The cameras at the top of the gate swivel, following me.