Page 48 of Midnight Between Us
I left without a word.
Because I knew exactly what she’d say:Take me with you, KT.And I couldn’t.Wouldn’t.Not when I knew I’d destroy her just the way my father did with my mother.She was better off without a Timberbridge in her life.We’re monsters who can’t love.
So I did the only thing I thought might save her.
Somehow though she found me.She fucking found me and over the phone, I told her I didn’t give two fucks about her.Told her to move on.The words were cold.Calculated.Exactly like my old man would’ve done.Only difference?I meant it as a kindness.
Simone Moreau was always too smart, too kind, too everything for a Timberbridge.
I fucking saved her.
You’re welcome, sweetheart.
And now, look at her—she’s a doctor, composed and controlled, the embodiment of someone who rebuilt herself from the ashes.Every move she makes carries purpose, and she wears her competence like armor, as if nothing could ever crack the surface.She resembles someone who escaped the wreckage of this place and actually made something of her life.
I don’t know why she’s still stuck in this forsaken town, but maybe that’s not so strange.My brothers were successful, too—grounded, respected, living full lives—and yet they all found a way to circle back here, as if this cursed patch of earth had a leash on each of us.
Me?Once I can move again, I’m leaving.For good.I’ll hunt down whoever did this to me, and they’ll wish I’d stayed dead.
Her voice slices through the air.“The nurse should be here to check your vitals.Therapists start tomorrow.Dr.Russell-Aldridge will be by to run a few tests after?—”
“If I pay for it, could you send me to another country?”The words tumble out, unfiltered.“I’ll cover the cost.Just get me out of here.”
She pauses.“Excuse me?”
“Call whoever is running this circus.Tell them I’ll pay whatever they want.Anywhere but here.”
Her laugh is wild.A burst of hysteria that doesn’t match the polished doctor act.She shakes her head, lets out a breath that sounds more like surrender than amusement.
“This is illegal, you know?I’m here against my will.That’s called?—”
“I’m going to stop you right there, Timberbridge.”She jabs her finger in my direction, and it’s like being punched by a memory.
There she is.Not Dr.Moreau.Just Sims.
“I’m not even surprised your selfish brain is already trying to escape.But listen carefully: if anyone finds out you’re alive, people could get hurt.Including your brothers.”
And suddenly, it clicks.The voices I heard while trapped in that room, hazy and warped by pain.The Syndicate.Her name tangled up in it.Someone called her a mole—or maybe the heir.
My body stiffens.“Are you threatening my brothers?”
She exhales through her teeth, exasperated.“Are you listening to yourself, Keir?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
“Because you sound like a fucking arrogant man who’s out of touch with reality,” she snaps.“I’m trying to give you facts, and you’re acting like you’re in some goddamn spy movie.”
She paces once, then spins on her heel.“You were found in a trunk.Barely alive.When someone gets close to the Timberbridge family, they become a target.Galeana’s house exploded on her wedding day—to your brother Ledger.Nysa was kidnapped close to Hopper’s property.Blythe had to be hidden while she was pregnant—that’s Atlas’s fiancée, in case you’re wondering.You walk out of here?Someone else might die.Let them think you’re dead—for now.”
Her words land like punches.Not just facts.Warnings.Truths I don’t want to accept.So they’ve been targeting our weak spots.Using the people we love like leverage.
Fuck.
Malerick told me the Doherty house fire was due to a gas leak.Just small-town tragedy stuff.But now I know he sanitized it, giving me the PG version of a horror story.
“So, you think my loved ones would be in danger too,” I mutter.Then, without meaning to, I add, “Or maybe you’re just digging for names.Someone I care about.Someone you can use.”
She laughs again.This time it’s not hysterical.It’s worse.
