Page 61 of Worth

“I would never hurt you, Kitten,” he says, shaking his head. “Not on purpose.”

I cock my head. “You know hurting someone by accident doesn’t make it any better, right?”

He looks at the ground. “I know,” he whispers. “I’ll regret leaving you for the rest of my life.” He meets my eyes, his jaw set. “But I’ll never regret what I did while I was gone.”

I sigh and get out of the car without responding. I don’t refuse him when he takes my hand, leading me to the building—mostly because I don’t really want to walk in this place, where it looks like nightmares play, alone. Aiden unlocks the door and lets us in, locking it behind us. My heart beats a little faster in the darkness, the only light what’s managing to permeate through some of the thinner spots in the corrugated metal walls.

A light pops on as Aiden lifts his phone, using the flashlight. Still holding my hand, which is now slick with nervous sweat, he leads me deeper into the building. He stops outside a door labeled ‘Office’ and unlocks it. This time when he pulls me in, he leaves the door standing open.

When he stops and releases my hand, I look around, expecting some grand surprise. But there’s nothing. Just an abandoned desk and papers.

“Here,” Aiden says, beckoning me to a darkened window directly in front of the desk. I move next to him, giving him major side-eye, unsure what the hell I’m supposed to be looking for. When I’m in place, he nods at me and then flips a switch next to the window.

My breathing hitches as the fluorescent lighting flickers on outside the window. Aiden shifts at my side and I can tell he’s watching to see my reaction, but I’m not even sure my brain can comprehend the sight in front of me.

Strapped to a chair in the middle of the small room I’m viewing through the glass is none other than Lauren Ainsbury.

Her hair is a gnarled mess. Mascara has run down both sides of her face, but she’s been here long enough that it’s flaking off her cheeks too. She’s wearing some sort of short red dress and a pair of stilettos, which tells me that Aiden had snatched her while Lauren had been out. She squints against the onslaught of light in the previous pitch black room, looking right at me and Aiden. I take a little step back, unnerved by the way she’s just staring.

“She can’t see us,” Aiden murmurs. “One way glass.”

I clear my throat, still hovering a step back. “Why is she here?”

“Because of what you told me about the day I found you.” I glance up at him and find a dark coldness in his eyes. “Because she deserves to be punished for her part in that and the way she treated you for years.”

“Aiden,” I start, looking back at Lauren. I’m not sure how to process what I feel. A part of me feels unnerved by the idea that he actually kidnapped someone.

But in a deeper, darker place of me, I feel excitement and vengeance bubbling inside my veins.

He grabs my hand before I can continue, placing my palm over the tattoo on his cheek. “I made you a promise. I said I would help you destroy the ones onyourlist.”

It silences the part of me that is struggling in an instant. I feel that same intoxicating rush hit me—the one I got when I first sank that fork in Jack’s face. Butterflies fill my belly as I look back at Lauren. Aiden wraps his arms around me, tucking his chin over my shoulder, and I let him.

“She’s yours,” he whispers darkly.

I study her for another moment and then pull away, making his arms fall, and walk to the door next to the window that leads into the room she’s being held. The sane, rational me is panicking about what I’m about to do. But I left sane and rational behind a long time ago and so I shut it out. My hand finds the door handle without hesitation and the door swings open.

Lauren immediately starts screaming like a banshee, although I have yet to step into view. When I do, sliding into the light, her screams die off with a gasp.

“You?” she croaks, incredulous.

I almost laugh at the indignation written across her face as a calm washes over me. I don’t acknowledge her otherwise, a table setup behind her catching my attention. I move toward it, scanning the contents, before selecting one thing. I can hear Lauren trying to see what I’m doing, the chair scraping on the floor a bit as she struggles.

I move back in front of her and she freezes, eyes so round it’s almost comical. “What’s my name?” I ask her.

“Elizabeth,” she answers quickly, looking relieved, like the answer will save her.

“Wrong,” I whisper, lifting the pistol. Using what Aiden has been teaching me, I fire, letting the sounds of her scream echo around us before the bullet even leaves the gun to tear through her left knee.

“You bitch!” Lauren screams. “You fucking shot me, you Skin piece of shit!”

“What’s my name?”

There’s a screech of fear. “I don’t know what your fucking name is!”

“And that’s the issue, isn’t it, Lauren?” I murmur. I adjust my aim and fire again as she fights her bindings.

The bullet mangles her other knee. Her screams are unintelligible while I passively watch. Blood seeps down her shins from her shattered knees, a puddle starting to form around her feet.

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