Page 242 of Before Dawn

Dillon nodded, his usual smirk absent, replaced by a hardened expression. Arnoldo exhaled, relieved it was over. We stepped out of Malen in silence, the cool night air cutting through the lingering tension. Without a word, Dillon handed me a fresh shirt. I slipped it on, discarding the bloodstained one, but my hands still trembled.

“Let’s get a drink,” Arnoldo said, breaking the silence as we started driving. “You can text the girlfriends later, but we all need something to calm down.”

“I don’t drink anymore, but sure.”

Arnoldo glanced between Dillon and me. “Since when?”

“Since she told me her ex was an alcoholic, Arnoldo.”

Arnoldo nodded, his expression softening, and we continued driving in silence until we reachedVero, one of his private bistros. At the bar, the bartender began pouring drinks, but I stuck with tonic water.

I raisedmy glass, my fingers still sore from the impact of each punch, and took a slow sip that offered some temporary relief.

Dillon’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing in concern as he typed a quick reply. He slid it back into his pocket then turned to face me.

“Suarez, you should either text Abigail or head home.”

I looked at him, confused. “What happened?”

He sighed, his tone serious. “Azzaria said her anxiety’s high.”

A pang of guilt hit me, cutting through the haze of anger I’d been living in. I finished the last of my drink, the glass hitting the counter harder than I meant. “I’m heading out now. Thank you guys.”

Dillon gave a small nod, his eyes understanding. “Arnoldo’s got a car coming for us. Take care.”

I stood up and, as I turned to leave, glanced back at them. “Thanks for everything,” I muttered, the words heavier than usual. It wasn’t just about what had happened tonight; it was for always standing by me, for having my back through it all.

Dillon smiled faintly, the edge of mischief still there, but his voice was sincere. “We’re brothers, Mikkel. Always.”

“Love you too, brother,” Arnoldo said. “Take care.”

With that, I walked out of the restaurant, my mind shifting away from everything and back to the person who mattered most—Abigail. Whatever was going on in her head, I needed to be there with her, and I wasn’t going to waste any more time.

Warning

The following chapter contains heavy mentions of mental health/physical health issues. Please refer to the content warning list to be reminded of any potential triggers. Your well-being is important to me, so please take care of yourself while reading.

Chapter Fifty-nine

Abigail-Ann

“The giving of love is an education in itself.”

~ Eleanor Roosevelt

The penthouse felt too big.Too quiet.

I had been pacing the same stretch of floor for what felt like hours, but time had become a blur. Azzaria sat on the couch eating chips, watching me with concerned eyes. She’d tried talking to me, tried to get me to eat, but I couldn’t. My stomach was tied in knots, and every time I sat still for too long, my mind wandered to places I didn’t want it to go.

I hadn’t heard from Mikkel in hours. That alone was enough to unsettle me. He’d asked Azzaria to stay with me—a thoughtful gesture—but it only made my anxiety worse. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about Joshua. About everything he’d done. The violation. It sat like a weight on my chest, making it hardto breathe.

“Mikkel’s got this under control,” Azzaria whispered from the couch, as if reading my mind for the hundredth time. “He’s getting you the justice you deserve. Trust him.”

“I do trust him,” I said quickly, almost automatically, but even to my ears, my voice sounded shaky.

Azzaria sighed and leaned forward, her voice gentle. “Then sit down and eat something. You haven’t had real food since I got here.”

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration gnawing at me. “I just—I need to hear from him,” I whispered, feeling a tear slip down my cheek before I could stop it.

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