Page 109 of Chained By the Alpha
“Then give me that damn phone,” I demand, my own voice trembling.
Zayn’s tense form paces in front of me, agitation rolling off him in waves. He holds his phone tightly. The video footage paused on the screen, displaying Deacon leading me to his car. “Just watch it,” Zayn insists, eyes pleading, desperation etched onto his handsome face.
He passes me the phone and I peer at the screen that is paused still. Gathering my courage and with a deep breath, I press play, knowing I am about to witness my ex’s death. Tears roll down my cheeks as I watch the footage, knowing this is the last moment I spent with him, according to Zayn.
The footage rolls, capturing the tense scene as Deacon guides me toward his car. Yet I have no memory of this, and it is clear I am blind drunk. Nothing appears overtly suspicious; I lean against him as he unlocks the vehicle, and I start sliding along the car side before Deacon catches me. Deacon appears to be laughing as he opens the back of his car and sets me on the tailgate. I can’t see anything going on because of the tinted windows. Deacon doesn’t appear to be doing anything sinister from this angle. Not that I can see much since there are so many cars in the parking lot.
Zayn moves toward Deacon, who even seems carefree as he addresses Zayn, laughing.
The poor quality of the video and the lack of sound make it difficult to discern the motive behind this attack. This chaotic scene leaves me questioning the reliability of Zayn’s claims. Zayn and Deacon say a few words. Nothing in Deacon’s behavior suggests he is doing anything wrong; he even motions toward me in the car and laughs. Zayn nods, scratches his chin, and then turns into a savage.
My heart sinks as I watch Zayn slam the car trunk lid on Deacon’s head, his face contorted in anger. Zayn steals Deacon’s phone, the screen lighting up as he stands at the back of the car before moving out of the camera’s view, yet I see him pocket the phone as he looks toward the club. He then nervously glances toward the entrance as if fearing he’s being watched. In one swift motion, Zayn grabs me from the back of Deacon’s car and stuffs me into his car.
A car pulls up beside us, and my breath catches in my throat as I recognize the driver - it’s Vance. He seems equally apprehensive, tossing Deacon into the trunk of his car and stealing a worried glance around. He seems to be hoping no one is watching and the scene ends, proving nothing. What did he expect to show me with this footage? It wouldn’t be the first time Deacon and I slept in the back of his car when we were too drunk to drive home.
“See?” Zayn says, stopping the video. “He was trying to hurt you, Cleo. I was protecting you.” My mind races as conflicting emotions surge within me. I want to believe Zayn’s explanation desperately, but doubt gnaws at the edges of my thoughts. The evidence before my eyes seems to contradict his words, leaving me torn between trusting who I know as Deacon and giving Zayn the benefit of the doubt.
I shake my head, anger boiling inside me. “This proves nothing, Zayn! It just shows you attacking him. How do I know you didn’t set this up?”
Zayn’s face falls. “Cleo, why would I do that? I have Deacon’s phone. It has the pictures he sent to Lydia. I can show you.”
My anger flares even more. “You could have sent those pictures! How am I supposed to believe anything you say now? You had his phone and were using it; I saw you!”
“Cleo, please. You know me. I would never—”
“Wouldn’t you?” I ask. My voice is barely a whisper as tears threaten to spill over. “Or were you just trying to control me? To ruin my father?”
“Never! That’s not who I am, Cleo.” His voice is desperate, his eyes filled with anguish. “I would never hurt you like that. And I never meant for any of this to happen. You know me. You have to believe me.”
“That’s the thing, Zayn… I don’t know you! I barely know you at all, and this entire time, you’ve been lying to me.” My voice trembles with the weight of betrayal. “I need to leave.”
Zayn’s eyes widen in shock as I tell him I’m leaving. He steps closer to me, his hand reaching out to touch my arm. I take a step back. I can’t let him touch me, not after what I’ve just discovered.
“Leave? No, Cleo… Where will you go?” His voice is filled with worry and fear, and I can see the pain in his eyes. I can’t let that sway me.
“Anywhere besides here,” I reply, my voice trembling slightly. “I can’t stay with someone I can’t trust.”
The hurt on Zayn’s face only deepens, and I can see the desperation in his eyes as he pleads with me. “Please, Cleo. I’ll do anything to make things right. I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”
Despite myself, my heart aches at his words. I know that deep down, he has grown to love me, however I am not sure that was his intention from the start. Love isn’t enough to make up for the lies and betrayal.
He runs his fingers through his hair, desperation etched deeply into his features, as Zayn’s pleading gaze seems to bore a hole straight through me. The way his silver eyes seem to shimmer, reflecting the unshed tears of someone so vulnerable and desperate for my understanding, is a sight that sears into my heart, leaving it twisted and wrenched in a painful, aching way.
“Damn it, Cleo,” Zayn swears, his hand moving through his dark hair in a frustrated, restless gesture. “You’re just going to walk away? Just like that?” His words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of our history together. My heart aches, and I struggle to maintain my resolve. The internal conflict raging within me is like a storm of emotions - love, betrayal, pain, and guilt. Especially knowing I have been an idiot fooling around with Zayn when all along he is the reason Deacon was missing.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the turmoil within me. “Zayn,” I begin, my voice wavering despite my determination. “What choice do I have? You’ve given me every reason not to trust you.” The image of Deacon dead and locked in the freezer flashes through my mind, filling me with an overwhelming mixture of anger and betrayal.
Zayn’s face falls at my words, his eyes filled with pain. “Cleo, you have to understand, I never meant for any of this to happen,” he pleads, taking a step closer to me.
“You never meant for it to happen? What about Deacon?” I snap, unable to control my anger any longer. “Did you mean for him to be missing? Did you mean to kill him?”
Zayn’s shoulders sag as he stares down at the ground. “No, of course not. I lost it when I found out what he was doing. I amnot some psychopath who goes around killing people, Cleo, not without reason,” he murmurs quietly.
“Then why didn’t you tell me what happened?” I ask, tears stinging at my eyes. “Why did you let me believe everything was fine when it wasn’t? How could you let me sleep upstairs knowing he was underneath us? Your story makes no sense! None of this does!”
He looks up at me, his eyes filled with tears of his own. “Because I knew you wouldn’t believe me. You didn’t know me, and you saw the video. What does that prove besides me losing my temper?” he admits softly.
“Absolutely nothing. The only truthful thing you’ve said so far is that I don’t know you. And you are right about that!” I turn to leave when he speaks again.
