𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐕𝐨𝐰𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓𝟐

ZADE

The moment I had the address—1527 East Briarwood Lane, Plot No. 45, Chicago, IL 60614—everything became a blur. Rain splattered against the windshield, drowning out the streetlights. The night was dark, the downpour relentless, but none of that mattered. I had one destination, one focus: Elena.

As I sped through the streets, my mind was racing. How could I have let this happen? My hands gripped the wheel tighter as the rain made the roads slick. The rhythmic thudding of the wipers was drowned by my heartbeat pounding in my ears. It was all a fucking mess, and I was the one responsible for it.

When I pulled up outside the Sanchez Lair, it was as though a wall stood between me and her. Her sanctuary. Her escape. The rain poured down heavier as I stepped out of the car. The darkness swallowed the place, and I could barely make out the front of the building, but I knew I was at the right place. Of course, she'd come here.

I rushed to the entrance, but when I saw the keypad for the passcode, my heart sank. I didn't know the code. Fuck.

My fist hammered on the door. The rain soaked through my clothes, my hair dripping down my face. I didn't care.

I hit the doorbell again. And again.

The door swung open, and there stood Christopher. His face was tight with anger, the kind of anger that felt like it could punch through brick walls.

"She's sleeping," he spat out, his voice low, warning me to tread carefully. "You should leave."

"I don't care," I growled back, meeting his glare head-on.

Christopher narrowed his eyes, clearly sizing me up, but after a pause, he stepped aside, reluctantly letting me in. The tension was thick.

"The lift," he muttered, his voice cold, "fifth floor. But Zade—don't say anything that might hurt her."

I looked him dead in the eyes. "Feed me to the dogs if I do."

The ride up in the lift felt like an eternity. My heart pounded in my chest as the floor numbers blinked. What the fuck was I even going to say? The only thing I knew was that I needed her to listen. I needed her to hear me out. She couldn't leave me—not like this.

The door slid open with a soft ding, and I stepped out, my feet dragging me toward her room, where the faintest light spilled out from beneath the door.

I pushed the door open softly, trying not to make too much noise. And there she was.

Elena was curled up on the bed, clutching a stuffed rabbit—Bun Bun—the toy she'd had since childhood (I know because I read her childhood journal and she also drew the stuffed thing.)  Her eyes were puffy and red from hours of crying. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, the pain evident in every tear-stained inch of her face.

Fuck.

My heart clenched seeing her like that. This was my fault. The guilt wrapped around my throat like a vice, squeezing tighter with every second that passed.

She didn't look up at first, didn't even notice I was there, but I crossed the room in seconds. Dropping to my knees beside her, I cupped her tear-streaked face in my hands.

"Shh, butterfly." My voice came out hoarse, a rasp of desperation and regret. I kissed the tears on her cheeks, one after the other, like I could somehow kiss the pain away. "Don't cry. I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry. Just hear me out. Please."

She sniffed, her bottom lip trembling as she blinked at me. Her voice was weak, barely a whisper. "You... you hurt me, Zade."

The pain in her words stabbed me straight through the chest. I hurt her, the one thing I swore I'd never do.