CHAPTER 041: Hands In The Air
Her voice scrapes something sharp in me. Of course she’s thrilled.
Sloane and Serena couldn’t be more different.
Although they’re both opinionated, Sloane thinks before she speaks. She’s often secretive about her deepest feelings, this ! know all too well. But Serena says whatever the hell crosses her mind. No filter. No hesitation. It’s like she’s allergic to silence. Every thought becomes a soundbite.
It’s no wonder we’ve never gotten along.
Especially back when they lived together. That apartment was a minefield, Sloane would be in the kitchen quietly stirring tea, trying to decompress from a long day, and Serena would burst in like a storm, unloading whatever drama she’d dragged home. I remember those nights all too well. Me sitting on the couch. Serena ranting from across the room. Sloane giving me that silent look–equal parts exhausted and apologetic–like she wished she could disappear.
I never told her this, but sometimes I wished we both could.
“Look,” I say, lowering my voice. “My brother stole her from me, and you’re going to help me get her back.”
“Your brother?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Then don’t bother telling it. I’m not helping you.”
“You don’t know Knox. He’s not right for her. He’s dangerous. Tied up with the kind of people who don’t ask for things. Mafia. Gangs. Sloane’s going to end up in trouble just by being around him.”
Silence stretches on the other end.
“You better not be lying to me,” she says finally.
“I’m not. I care about Sloane. I need your help.”
A sigh. “Fine. I’ll talk to her.”
“Thank you.”
She hangs up without saying goodbye.
I pull up to Sloane’s apartment building and kill the engine. My hands hover over the keys on my ring until I find it–the one she gave me years ago, with a tiny faded tag that reads for emergencies.
This is an emergency.
I head up, locating her apartment number by instinct. Inside, the apartment smells faintly of lavender and her. That floral, fresh scent that clings to her sweaters, her pillows, her hair when she hugs me. I step into the living room and set the gear on the couch, then walk toward her bedroom.
It hits me all over again–how much I miss her.
I open her closet and bury my nose in one of the shirts still hanging. It smells like her shampoo. A little like warmth. Like home.
The drawers are too tidy. Everything folded too carefully. I need something with a little more of her scent. I find the bin she keeps her laundry in–overflowing, not yet done.
I crouch. My hands hover for a moment.
And then I start picking through it.
The first piece I find is a pair of panties. Obviously worn. I raise it to my face and breathe her in.
My fingers grip tighter. I find more and pocket them.
Then I straighten and move back to the living room.
Time to install those cameras.
“One in the bedroom,” I say aloud. “One in the living room. One in the bathroom. And one in the kitchen.”
Each one goes in easily. Hidden. Perfectly angled. My hands are steady now. Purposeful.
When I finish, I look around, heart racing.
“I’ll see you soon, Sloane,” I murmur to the empty apartment. “I’ll help you through this… whatever this is with my brother. And then you’ll remember who you really belong to.”
I pick up the empty box and walk to the door.
That’s when I hear it.
CHAPTER 041: Hands In The Air
Voices, Familiar. Too familiar.
Sloane. And Knox.
No. No, no, no.
My heart drops. My chest tightens, breath hitching in my throat. What is she doing home this early? She’s supposed to be gone until evening.
I don’t think. I just move.
Box still in my hand, I dart toward her bedroom, dropping the box behind the dresser as I slip into the closet. I close the door just enough to leave a sliver of air. My breath is shallow. Controlled.
From the narrow crack, I hear the door open.
“So this is where you live?” Knox asks, his voice too comfortable, too at home in her space.
“Yup. I know what you think. It’s upside down.”
“Nope. I think it’s small.”
“Are you broke–shaming me?”
“It’s just an observation,” he says, that smug edge curling around each syllable. “You brought me into your abode to get into my pants. I think I have the right to speak freely.”
She laughs.
God, she laughs.
And it stabs me. Right in the center of my chest.
Her laugh was mine. All those late nights watching dumb rom–coms and drinking cheap wine. The way she’d fall against me laughing, cheeks red, eyes shining. And now it’s his. All of her is his.
I can hear their footsteps, closer now. My muscles lock up.
They’re in the bedroom.
I see them through the gap. Knox’s hand is around her neck, not choking, but guiding, dominant. He pushes her toward the bed, and she’s smiling, letting him.
No. No. No.
She’s not even missing me. She’s not grieving. She’s been–fuck, she’s been enchanted, bewitched, manipulated by him.
But she doesn’t look like a victim. She looks…
Happy.
Knox releases her neck and steps back, voice cool and commanding.
“Take off your clothes, Bunny.”
Bunny.
She doesn’t hesitate. Not for a second. Her fingers find the hem of her top, and she peels it off in one smooth motion. Her bra follows. Her jeans. Panties.
Layer by layer, she undresses for him. There’s no shyness in her movements, only desire. Willingness. Trust.
And all I can do is watch.
My jaw clenches. My fists curl into tight, shaking knots. I shouldn’t be hard right now, but I am. That traitorous part of me wakes up at the sight of her nakedness.
“Kneel. Hands in the air.”
She drops to her knees.
Her posture is perfect, back straight, hands lifted like an offering. Her eyes are wide, fixed on him. She looks up at him like he hung the fucking moon.
Knox pulls something from his pocket.
Handcuffs.
He steps forward and binds her wrists together.
I’ve never seen her like this. Never seen her submit to anyone. She was kind of a bully to the girls I hung around with in college.
And something inside me burns.
She was mine.
CHAPTER 041: Hands In The Air
She still is.
I make a sound before I can stop myself. A grunt. A sharp inhale. Something small, but not small enough.
Knox freezes.
His head turns.
“Is something wrong?” Sloane asks, her voice low, breathless.
He doesn’t answer.
His gaze stays on the closet.
And then he starts walking toward it.
Step by step.
