Even though I know she won’t. She’ll tell the truth if she ever takes the stand.
I waited with my stomach twisting into a knot. I had never felt love for anyone like I did for Anabelle. The thought of her being taken from me was horrifying, but there was nothing I could do but wait for the car to appear—it didn’t—instead I saw Brody, walking up the road towards the cabin. I stood up and started in his direction. I would know by the look in his eyes if he had killed Anabelle—and if he did, there was no way in hell two people were walking through the door of that cabin. One of us was going to be a corpse.
As I approached Brody, I saw something different in his eyes. It wasn’t rage. It wasn’t anger. He looked calm—serene. I recognized that stare. It was the one that had been on my face when I realized Anabelle had run. He didn’t kill her—but I needed to hear him say those words just to be sure.
“She’s fine.” He reached into the back of his shirt and pulled out his gun—then he turned the handle towards me. “ You should hold onto that. Obviously, I can’t be trusted with it.”
“You believe her—finally.” I took the gun and nodded.
“I do.” He started walking towards the cabin. “I just hope we’re not both wrong.”
“We’re not.” I followed behind him.
She’s stronger than us right now and she has enough to take down the King of Chicago. He won’t be a match for her fury.
We walked inside the cabin, poured a couple of drinks, and sat down in front of the television. A few hours of turmoil followed as there was no mention of Anabelle’s return—then a Breaking News banner flashed across the bottom of the screen. Anabelle Prescott had come home. They would have all of the details at the top of the hour.
“I don’t hear any sirens.” Brody looked towards the window. “If she made it back and there are no cops kicking in the door, I guess that’s a good sign.”
“It is.” I nodded quickly and took a sip of my drink.
They ran updates on her return all afternoon, showing our face on the screen as they told the story of her courageous escape. They said we were downtown—that was perfect. That’s where they would be looking, and we were as far from Chicago as we could be. The cops would tear the city apart, and I was pretty sure her father’s men would be doing the exact same thing. They would be looking for us without realizing that the true danger to the king’s throne was in his very own castle. The princess in Louboutins might very well put the spike of her heel through the back of his skull before it was all over. I hoped she didn’t take it that far. He deserved nothing less than what he got, but prison was where he belonged.
“Are you sure we can trust your uncle?” I looked over at Brody. “I know he’s family, but they’ll probably question everyone we know.”
“My family doesn’t betray each other,” Brody growled under his breath. “We don’t need a motto to tell us what matters.”
“Good.” I nodded and lifted my glass to my lips.
“This waiting is going to kill me.” Brody tapped out a cigarette and lit it up. “I don’t want to just sit here—I’m worried about her.”
“You wanted her dead, now you’re worried about her?” I chuckled under my breath. “She’ll be fine. He’s not going to do anything to hurt his own daughter. By the time he realizes what she’s fully capable of, it will be too late.”
“I really hope you’re right.” Brody nodded aimlessly and took a drag off his cigarette. “I have no idea what the fuck we’re going to do—staring at this screen hoping for some sort of update is just going to drive me insane.”
“Just close your eyes and pretend we’re back in jail. This cabin is our cell until Anabelle is able to make things right.” I exhaled sharply.
Hopefully, it won’t take her long.
There were no new updates on television—just the same story being replayed about her return. I drank until I felt like I was tired enough to sleep. I walked into the room and stretched out on the bed where Anabelle had been while she was our captive. It still smelled like her—the mattress had a hint of her expensive perfume. I couldn’t wait to hold her in my arms again and know it was all over. I spent a year letting the madness consume me while I was in prison, but it wasn’t enough to drive me towards hate—not the kind that Brody had.
Our short time together in the cabin had done more to change us than the entire year that Anabelle made her trek to the South Side to spend time with us. It made me realize that my love for her was stronger than anything else and showed me that she was not the submissive woman I tried to turn her into. She might never be—not really. That was okay because my dominance wasn’t just about sex—it was about the other person too. I would be able to love her whether she was on her knees or standing by my side.
The love Anabelle had for me was complicated until the chains of her familial bond were ripped away from her heart. She never gave herself to me—not entirely. She was still a princess from the North Side even when she walked into the South Side in Louboutin heels with an expensive purse on her arm. That wasn’t what she was when she left the cabin. She’d never be that girl again. Her love was finally stronger than the ties that bound her to the Prescott name. She was going to redefine it.
Brody had given in—given in to what was always in his heart, but he wasn’t able to see it. I knew he cared about Anabelle—in his own way. It wasn’t a dictionary definition of love, but it was as close as he could get. That had changed. His fire burned as bright as the one in my chest after he saw that she was his equal—that we were all equal in the midst of our chaos. I hoped he could find a way back from the darkness that tempted his soul when he took Josef Weber’s life. I understood why, or at least I thought I did. I felt like there was something else—I saw the look in his eyes when he told me that he had his reasons for doing it. That look wasn’t greed.
Time will go a lot faster if I can get out of my head and just close my fucking eyes.
I finally managed to get a glimpse of sleep, or at least the best semblance of rest I could manage. My dreams weren’t peaceful, but they weren’t exactly nightmares. I saw pieces of my life—my time on the South Side. I saw my mother, the way she worked to put food on the table—the way she cried when she found out I was working for Jacob Durst. I swore that day it wouldn’t be permanent, and I would find a way to become the man she wanted me to be.
She gave up hope the day she stared at me from the other side of the glass. I told her I was innocent, but I don’t think she truly believed it. She thought I had fallen into the same trap that the South Side put in front of my father—just another thug who finally found the courage to pull the trigger when it suited his needs. I was going to be a different man when it was all over. I was going to show her that I was better than my environment and that the lessons she taught me were never truly forgotten—they were just put on pause as I tried to figure sh
it out on my own.
I wasn’t going to have to walk through life alone any longer. I was going to have a woman by my side that was as strong and determined as she was—the kind of woman I always knew I needed, but never knew how to find. I pushed those I brought into my bed—tested their limits—because I was looking for one strong enough to fight back. One that could submit while making me strong enough to get down on my knees. I would have something better than just Anabelle though—I would have Brody. He was always my best friend, but when it was all over, he would be the brother I never had. A bond stronger than family—one that defined us.
“Any word?” I walked into the living room and looked towards the television screen.