Page 26 of Born Chaos

"I'm done," Rick says swiftly as he holds up his hands. "I swear. Sebastian loves you, I know he does. But it's making him lose his damn mind. He's gone too far. And it feels like he's going further and further every day. I promise, Juliet, I won't report back to him anymore. You should be free to do what you want, when you want, without anyone's observation or permission."

It hits me then. How Sebastian has asked me where I’m going so often recently. How he’s asked me to call him if my plans changed.

He was tracking my cell phone. And now this.

Emotion is choking me. I suck in a desperate gasp. I need to breathe. I have to breathe. But it turns into a desperate sob. I raise my hand to cover my mouth. Another shotguns out of me. Tears roll down my face.

Sebastian was having me followed. He asked Rick to follow me at all times. To always know where I was. He had a constant line between the two of them, with an ever-updated report of my location.

I couldn't have done something reckless if I wanted to. If I stepped one toe out of line, I have no doubt Rick would have been right there and would've told on me to Sebastian. And I can guarantee Sebastian would have shown up and stopped me.

"Juliet…" Rick says as he takes one step forward.

I jerk back from him, swiftly taking a step back. I shake my head, tears splashing over my own hand. "Get away. I never want to see you again. Swear to me you will never talk to Sebastian again."

Grief fills Rick's eyes. But there's also something that looks a lot like self-loathing in them as well. He stands there, stark still, frozen. His eyes study me. I hope he has learned a lesson from this. Just because someone pays you to do it, just because someone is your boss, doesn't mean you should always do what they say. Humanity and common sense should always win out in the end.

"I promise," Rick says softly. "I won't speak to Sebastian again. I need to get my things, and then I will leave Chicago."

I squeeze my eyes closed. I'm asking a man to leave his home. To get out of the city.

But I'm also selfish. I don't want to have to wonder. I don't want to have to question. I have to feel safe. I have to have my own privacy. If Rick stays? Well… I don't know this man well enough. Will he keep his word?

I will go so far as to ask Sigrid to track him. If he doesn't leave the city, I will know thanks to the rose tattooed to the side of his shaved head.

I take in a shuddering breath and wrap my arms around my waist. Not knowing what else to say, Rick fixes his eyes on me, watching me the entire time as he walks away. And as soon as he's gone, sobs overtake me.

I hate life. It’s so damn cruel sometimes.

This is the gamble in caring about people. Because the people you love are the people who can hurt you most.

CHAPTERNINE

Trauma and griefand anger have a way of stealing your sanity. They can be just as powerful as a drug.

I don’t remember most of the day. My feet move, needing to keep in time with the rolling thoughts going through my brain. I think I wander through Old Town. Something in the back of my brain remembers being near the water. Maybe even along the Chicago River.

By the time my brain starts functioning again, I realize I’m at the top of the John Hancock building.

It’s beautiful up here. Being ninety-four stories up, I think I can see the vast majority of the city. There are dozens of wildly tall buildings in this town. But I’m towering above them.

It’s a surprisingly clear day. Most days, you can’t see the top of the skyscrapers now that it’s winter. But not today. Today I can see across the city with beautiful clarity, and all the night’s lights are just starting to twinkle.

I pull in a deep, calming breath. I’ve been hiding all day. My mind has been trying to protect itself. I’ve been delaying.

But it’s time. I have to be an adult. I have to face reality.

I pull out my phone.Can you check if Rick, Sebastian’s bodyguard, is still in the city?I text Sigrid.

It’s two minutes before her reply comes through.I am not seeing him, he must be out of town. Why?

I let out a breath of relief, but don’t respond to her.

The clock shows that it’s five-thirty. I need to get back. I need to get on with this.

The elevator plummets through the belly of the building. I ride down with six strangers but hardly even notice they’re there. It’s dark by the time I walk out, and the streets are getting quieter, everyone in a hurry to get inside from the cold.

Fifteen minutes later, I walk up to my building, and silent and stiff, I go up to my apartment.

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