Page 41 of Carnival
“Yes,’’ I responded immediately. James is in many ways fucked up, but everything intimate we did, I wanted it just as much as he did, and I enjoyed myself thoroughly while he was doing it.
Arlo nods. “I’m not sure whether to be relieved or creeped out, but I am glad he didn’t do anything to you.’’
Aria takes a seat on a nearby chair, our bags already packed. The house we’ve rented is wiped clean, and I highly doubt there will be a single trace of us ever spending time here.
“So… how angry are Hudson and Noah?”
Aria winces slightly. “Mom is… well, worried mostly. Dad, on the other hand, is pissed. More at me than at you,’’ she scoffs. “Apparently, I’m the bad influence here, and it’s somehow my fault you got semi-kidnapped. Overall, we’re in it when we get home.’’
I groan, slumping onto the couch and covering my face with my hands. A beat of silence passes, and aside from Arlo’s shuffling while he gathered the last bits of our items, nothing canbe heard. Aria doesn’t speak, and I’m too mentally exhausted to properly process the situation.
Until I remember one very important thing.
“Wait,’’ I lift my head from my hands, eyes darting between the De Santis siblings. “Where is James?”
After Arlo knocked him out and asked me for an explanation, he didn’t really give me the time to provide one. Instead, he dragged me by the elbow out of the carnival and immediately drove us here. Did he just leave James unconscious out there? With a bleeding wound?
No, Rosalie.
You shouldn’t be worried about him. He doesn’t deserve it.
But… I can’t help it. Something in my chest aches at the thought of him bleeding out in the secluded part of the carnival and possibly bleeding to death. It stirs all sorts of emotions out of me, concern being number one.
“He’s fine,’’ Arlo responds. “For now.’’
“For now?”
He nods. “He’s on his way to New York as we speak.’’
“Oh, no,’’ I mumble.
I know exactly why he’s being taken to New York. If Hudson is as angry as I think he is, then James is in for it. I am not even sure that he’ll even survive Hudson’s wrath, because if Hudson is one thing, he is fucking ruthless when someone touches the people he loves, especially his children. Somehow, that includes me too.
“Oh, yes,’’ Aria snorts. “That will be fun to watch.’’
“You think he’ll take him to the basement?” Arlo asks, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Because then we need to hurry. I want to watch.’’
Blood drains from my face, and my body goes rigid. Fear slowly starts running through my veins, and I’m unable to even blink, let alone try to argue with them. The basement he mentioned is their torture chamber, for lack of a better word.
I’ve never witnessed what goes down there, but Aria says that no amount of cleaning can get rid of the stench of blood. It’s been used for years, and not a single person who entered the basement left alive.
“No,’’ I croak out. “He can’t do that,’’ I whisper.
Aria lifts a brow. “It’s Dad we’re talking about. You can try stopping him, though I doubt he’ll listen.’’
“Let’s go.’’ I jolt up from my seat. I’m grabbing my bag before the two can even respond, and I’m out of the door in record time. Arlo’s deep laughter follows, but I don’t find the situation funny at all.
Given the chance, Hudson will kill James. He will torture him and kill him in cold blood, just like he’d done to many people before. In a month’s time, he won’t even remember James’ name, let alone his face or who he was. It’s terrifying to even think about it.
James is a narcissistic asshole who’s definitely in need of a good ass whooping, but not to be killed. I can’t let Hudson kill him. James is the only source of information I have for my past, and if he dies, the questions will remain unanswered until the day I die.
My hands tremble as I take a seat in the back of the car, and Arlo slides into the driver’s seat, with Aria taking the passenger’s seat. The two are chatting, as if James isn’t about to die, their conversation mainly directed toward how Hudson will punish her for taking me to New Orleans.
I don’t keep up with the conversation; I can’t. My heart almost jumps out of my chest at the mere thought of what Hudson will do, and I start slowly dissociating from reality. I want to scream, cry, and beg Hudson not to touch James.
My throat goes dry as Arlo drives off, taking us to the airport. Yet, I can’t focus. My mind is consumed with James, hands trembling on my lap. He can’t die. He can’t. If he dies, I don’t know how I’ll survive it.
I call James the obsessed one, yet here I am, obsessing over him like a little fangirl. I try to tell myself that it’s because he has the key to my past, that it’s only because he can be very useful.
