Page 235 of His To Erase
I may not know where Steven is. I may not know who sent that photo or what the hell I’m about to walk into—but I know exactly what I feel.
Betrayal and fury.
They coil hot and sharp in my chest, winding tighter with every second I stand outside this empty fucking club, piecing together lies that should’ve never made it past me in the first place.
My phone buzzes in my hand, slicing through the static in my head like a blade to the spine.
I’m so goddamn sick of this game—sick of being dragged along by ghosts and threats that won’t show their face. But my thumb moves anyway, already unlocking the screen.
This time it isn’t a photo. It’s a video. There’s no caption. No message. Just grainy surveillance footage, frozen mid-frame. It has no timestamp, just static, shadows, and the promise of something worse.
A cold sweat breaks out across my shoulders, sliding down my spine as I tap it open. My pulse slams to a halt in my throat as my vision narrows until all I can see is the screen.
Please, God. Not again.
The video starts shaky—it looks like it’s a security cam angle, maybe it’s from a phone, but I know that jaw, that blood-smeared mouth. I know that body, tied to a chair and slumped like a puppet that’s lost its strings.
Steven.
My heart lurches.
There’s a voice from behind the camera. I can’t see who it is, but there’s enough movement in the shadows to know someone’s there.
The camera angle tilts, catching the profile of Steven’s bloodied face. He lifts his head slowly, like it takes effort just to move. One eye’s already swelling shut, and his lip is split. He coughs once, and blood drips from his mouth.
Then he smirks. “She was a distraction. A means to an end.” He spits blood to the floor. “Pretty easy one too. And when I’m done, I’ll return her the same way you gave her to me... broken.”
I stagger back, like the wind just got knocked out of me, and my body goes ice cold.
No.
“You think I haven’t played this game before?” he spits. He looks up—directly at the camera, eyes like steel. “I’ve been after him since she disappeared.”
Someone laughs, and the screen jolts.
And just before the video cuts out, Steven lifts his face one more time, eyes gleaming through the blood—sharp and defiant.
“Tell him I know who she is now.”
The words land like a detonation. Then someone steps into frame, and there’s a blur of motion—an object raised, then a sickening crack. The screen jolts and everything goes black.
I sit there frozen, staring at my phone like it might start up again, maybe if I watched it again—I’d see something different. Hear something new.
Distraction.
Return her the same way you gave her to me.
Easy.
The words crawl into my skin like rot, and I can’t scrub them out. I can’t un-hear the way he said it, like I never mattered.
My hands are shaking, and my ears are ringing. My whole body feels like it’s underwater, drowning in a betrayal I didn’t see coming. And the worst part is—he looked right at the camera like he knew I’d see it.
My chest folds in on itself, ribs twisting like someone reached inside and snapped them for fun. God, was I always just a pawn? Was I so desperate to feel chosen that I didn’t realize I was being passed around like leverage?
I can’t breathe, and I don’t even know who I’m mad at—Steven, Frank, or myself. Because somewhere in the middle of all this, I fell for him. And now I don’t know if any of it was real.
Suddenly, none of it matters.
