Page 99 of Call You Mine

After Wynter drove away from me, I returned to The Silver Wolf to clean up the mess we’d made and lock up before texting Jade and letting her know I’d done so. I turned off my phone and left it in my car as I walked into my empty house, not wantingto be bothered by whoever would dare call. By now, I’m sure Scarlett had shared the news to all of our group and, in no time, they’d all be barging down my door and demanding to knock some sense into me.

It would be futile because there’s nothing they could say or do to convince me I wasn’t the one to blame for all of this. For hurting her more than she could have ever hurt me. Or maybe they wouldn’t.

Maybe they’d see my flaws clearer than they’d ever had. To think one of my best friends was siding with her, a woman who, until two months ago, she despised. That was the power of Wynter. Her charm was undeniable, her alluring nature too much for the average person to fight off. It must have been what attracted her husband. Her beauty is beyond compare. The elegance and sophistication she held in the palm of her hands, despite where she stood now, was unlike anything else.

Though the last thing she’d told me didn’t let me rest. A monster, that’s what she’d said of him, which leads me to believe she was running out of fear for her safety. Memories of the texts she’d received, the packages she was weary of—just like the one she’d gotten recently. I’d seen it in her bedroom, but at that moment I’d trusted her and hadn’t opened it myself, although the urge to do so was there. But right now. Right now, I need to know what it was.

The usual warmth that overflowed inside my home just recently when Wynter arrived is now gone, and in its wake a bitter void is left. Just like the one inside of me.

I rush upstairs and toward her bedroom, eager to find answers. Once inside, I go through all of her things, pulling drawers out of her dressers, ravaging through all her belongings until I find what I’m looking for. Hidden underneath her lacy underwear is a flash drive and a card tucked away in a smallenvelope. The front of the envelope has one simple word written in cursive.

Carina.

I don’t understand it, don’t know what it means, but I know it was meant for her.

Grabbing the drive and the card, I head back down to my home office, quickly inserting the USB drive into my computer as I hold the small envelope between my fingers. Just then, a video appears before me. Choosing to watch what’s on the drive first, I set the card down and press play.

Bile rises in my throat the moment I realize what this is. It’s too much. I want to look away, to slam my fist into the screen, throw something across the room, to scream, but I can’t. All I can do is sit here watching the woman I loved with another man. It’s a compilation of sorts. Videos of the two of them from various angles at different times—galas, casinos, out to dinner in the city. He’s important that I could gather almost immediately, but he also wasn’t good.

No, he had a certain look to him—his demeanor gave off such negative energy that shouldn't be taken lightly. And the entourage who followed closely behind them in almost every shot was proof Wynter was trapped in something much worse than what I’d first assumed.

The next scene is one I can hardly keep my eyes on. Wynter’s in her room, wearing the same silver dress she had on the day she arrived on my doorstep. But this version of it was clean. Her hair was beautifully curled, pulled up in some sort of updo that showed off her long and delicate neck. The same man enters the room and approaches her, his steps slow yet calculated. I can’t read her reaction, the angle of the camera not quite reading her face, but her body grows stiff as the man speaks.

Wynter walks backwards, toward the bed until the back of her legs hit the mattress. He continues to advance, and justbefore he reaches for her, I pause it, unable to watch what I know is about to happen.

I throw my head back against my chair, desperation clawing at me from the inside.How could I allow myself to be taken advantage of by this woman?Not physically, that was both of us equally unable to keep our hands off of one another—the sexual tension and attraction between us was always there and we’d spent so long trying to convince ourselves we shouldn’t go there which made it all that more explosive when it finally did.

No, Wynter took advantage of my possessive need to protect. She came to me injured and scared, and immediately she knew I’d never send her way, not without trying to fight off every single demon she kept, every monster who threatened to hurt her, only she was the only one who broke me in the end.

Unable to keep thinking about how regardless of everything she did to fool me into believing something real with us was a possibility, I still wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anything, which was dangerous as fuck because I knew she was bad for me. She made me lose my mind, lose all sense of whatever else existed but her.

Needing answers to quiet my thoughts, I open the envelope, slowly taking out the small card. I know whatever it says is going to throw me deeper down this rabbit hole of despair.

My eyes widen at the words written in red ink along one side.

I warned you, told you time and time again you didn't want to see the consequences of testing my patience. Yet you continue to test me, little girl. You think throwing your dog at me was going to keep me away, but I have something of much more value? If you’re reading this, I assume you watched thegracious video my dear Luke could get me. If you don’t want me to send your plaything a copy, I suggest you meet me. The address is on the back. Don’t make me wait too long, my dear girl. Every day I sit here waiting is another day you’ll soon regret. - XOXO Mummy

Disgusted by the woman’s blatant disregard for her daughter and cruel nature, I flip the card over and read the address written on the back. It’s here in Hillcrest Hills, a mere ten minutes from my home. The bitch never left, though I warned her too. She threatens Wynter with not heeding her warnings, yet the crazy, stupid bitch didn’t listen to mine. It’s been over a month since this package was sent to Wynter. I recall the day she received it at The Silver Wolf, yet I know Willa’s still there waiting for Wynter to show up.

Wynter might not tell me what I need to know, but I have to get answers, and now I know exactly where to find them.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

DAMON

Driving up to the monstrosity of a home, I asked myself for the hundredth time why the fuck I was coming here. Why was I choosingthisas the place to decompress? Instead of talking things out with Wynter, I came to the one place I know I won’t be getting the whole truth. Yet it felt like the only place I could find the answers I so desperately needed.

There I go fucking self-sabotaging once again when things get too hard to fucking deal with. I did it time and time again with Clarissa—when I needed to forget, to run from shit when life got too messy and too loud—I went to her, lost myself in the high our fucked-up arrangement brought me. I was addicted not to one person, but to the way it all made me feel. Powerful and authoritative, but most of all, in control.

Though it was all an illusion.

Now, I’m here because I’m trying to understand the reason my woman found it so easy to betray me. Is this my way of trying to fix the broken girl by coming to the root of the problem? Am I falling down the rabbit hole of mommy issues we both have now that she has thoroughly fucked up my life?

Finding myself looking up at the heavy wooden doors of the mansion, waiting for the bitch to open up, I decide that this is my punishment, not my decompression. To come face to face with the woman who fucked up an angel—my angel. To experience firsthand the venom she spews and hopefully shed some light on why Wynter would hurt me the way she just had.

I don't realize I’m holding my breath until the door slowly creeps open, the hinges of the old Victorian home creaking as it moves. A sharp chill rushes up my spine and the cool breeze behind me has nothing to do with it.

This is it. This is the moment I’ll finally snap. Years of unresolved trauma, of demons I pushed so far back, I’d fooled myself into believing they’d disappeared. I’ve always tried my hardest to ignore the way my childhood screwed me up. I knew it had in so many ways—ruined my trust in people, my reluctance to ever truly open up in any sort of relationship. My friends knew what I told them, they saw what I allowed them to see, though none of them knew the truth about me. The dark, wicked truth I kept buried so deep inside me I’d nearly forgotten it was there.

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