Page 48 of Behind the Shadows
As soon as I triggered the lock, I slipped inside and quietly closed the door behind me, the soft click resonating in the silent hallway. Time was slipping through my fingers, and I quickly navigated the dimly lit rooms, searching for the perfect hiding spot. Not that I would be concealed for long, but I needed her to fall asleep before I could make my move.
The hall closet seemed promising for the moment. From there, I had a clear view of her in both the living room and the kitchen. The bedroom closet wasn’t a good option since she might open it when she went to bed. The hall closet, however, was ideal, allowing me to hear any whispers of conversation she might have over the phone.
The front door opened, and I made out the soft murmur of Ryan and Holland exchanging goodbyes. I slid into my hiding spot, tucking myself behind a curtain of coats and a fortress of luggage, and settled in to wait for the right moment.
Most of the time,I was patient. Methodical. But nearly three hours crammed into this fucking closet was peeling back every last shred of my restraint.
Too much time to think.
Too much time to rot.
I should’ve been calm. Focused. But instead, I kept replaying the same loop—Holland’s voice, her laugh, the smell of her shampoo lingering on the clothes beside me—andMother’svoice … dripping like venom into every memory.
Mother was in here with me. Not physically, but inside my fucking skull. Whispering how Holland had used me. Lied to me. Twisted me around her pretty little finger like she was no better than the woman who gave birth to me.
What if they were working together?
What if all of this—every smile, every soft look, every inch of her skin that I’d worshipped—was just a ploy to gut me from the inside out?
A slow burn was crawling up my spine.
Mother always said love was weakness dressed in prettier clothes. And maybe she was right. Maybe Holland had never been mine to begin with. Maybe she wasMother’s—another one of her fucking puppets.
I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood.
She’d never told me Samantha was alive. She’d let me believe I’d killed her. Let me die in that guilt, beg for forgiveness,breakfor it. And now that I’d finally found her again—alive, and still so fucking beautiful—I didn’t know if I wanted to protect her … Orrip her fucking soul from her body for lying and trying to destroy me.
I couldn’t breathe in this fucking closet anymore. All I could think of was to end this misery. Take care of each player in the game, but what was a game to them was my goddamn life. I was about to take it all back once and for all.
Focus. Bide your time. Don’t let them win.
It was nearly midnight when my ears perked up at a sound near the back entrance. Peering through the almost nonexistent crack I’d made for myself, I watched as she slipped on her robe over her pajamas and rushed to the back of the house.
“Don’t open it, Holland,” I mumbled. There was nothing good about a late-night visitor like this unless … she was seeing someone. Jealousy sparked to life inside my chest, flaring up at the thought of her being with someone else. The image of him kissing her, his lips brushing against hers … the bastard touching every part of her that belonged tomefilled me with a turmoil that added fuel to the fire already burning inside of me.
She discreetly peeked through the small window shade, then froze. Her expression twisted as fear registered on her face. Before she could call for help, the back door swung open, and Cooper rushed inside. He grabbed her, slapped a palm over her mouth, and closed the door behind him. His arrival was an unexpected surprise, but as far as I was concerned, a damn good one. I rubbed my hands together, pulse steady, smile sharp as anticipation lit my veins on fire. This shit just got fun.
I pulled the devil mask with the voice disguiser from my back pocket, slipped it over my head, and now I had two targets.
“Welcome to hell, motherfucker.”
20
HOLLAND
Terror beat through my veins as Cooper forced me away from the door and into the living room. I tried to bite his hand that was forcefully over my mouth, but he shoved me onto the couch, releasing me. I jumped up before he could pin me to the furniture.
“I dare you to fucking scream, bitch,” he seethed as he stood over me.
“What do you want, Cooper? We have nothing else to say to each other. We’re over. We’ve been over.”
His wicked chuckle filled the room, and the hair on my arms stood on end.
“We’re far from over, Holland. In fact, I wanted to discuss something with you.”
“What’s that?” I crossed my arms tightly in front of me, as if forming a protective barrier against the waves of hate rolling off him. The tension in the air was almost tangible, and I hoped I could reach him with reason. It was evident that something in him had changed. The man I once knew wasn’t this aggressive. A sense of foreboding settled over me, and I had an inkling that Iwas on the verge of discovering what had caused his turnaround. “Do you need money?”
He threw his head back and laughed, a lock of his blond hair falling onto his forehead. I used to love it when that happened, and I’d gently brush it out of his brown eyes. The idea of touching him made my skin crawl.
