Chapter 236
Chapter 38
AARON
I didn’t follow her.
That was the first fracture.
I stood there in the hallway, long after Venus disappeared into the therapy room, long after the sound of George’s laughter softened into the therapist’s calm cadence. Long after the door clicked shut and sealed me out of my own family.
I stood there because moving felt like choosing the wrong future.
My chest was tight in that way I recognized too well-the pressure that came when instinct and restraint collided. When every part of me wanted to act, to intervene, to fix, but I’d learned the hard way that force only made certain kinds of wounds fester.
“You don’t know what you’re doing anymore p>
I’d said it quietly. Carefully.
She’d smiled.
That was the moment something in me went cold.
Not because of the words that followed. Those were sharp, yes-barbed and precise-but words were weapons Venus had always known how to wield. No, it was the smile that did it. The controlled one. The deliberate one. The smile she used when she’d already decided the damage was necessary.
“I know exactly what I’m doing. I just don’t need you to understand it p>
I’d replayed that sentence a hundred times already, and each time it landed differently.
Not confusion.
Not recklessness.
Intent.
That was what terrified me.
Venus didn’t drift into harm. She walked into it, eyes open, shoulders squared, believing the cost was hers to pay.
And the worst part?
She was right.
She was hurting. Iris had torn a hole clean through her, and I’d been standing too close to the blast to see the edges clearly. I knew that. I wasn’t blind not was I heartless.
But Venus wasn’t this woman.
She wasn’t venom and distance and calcul
throat of the one person who’d never let go of her.
I’d loved her too long-too thoroughly-not to know the difference.
I turned away from the therapy room and started down the hall, my footsteps measured, my hands clenched at my sides.
Control, she’d said.
High-end leash.
Collar too tight.
I exhaled slowly through my nose.
The clinic corridor stretched ahead of me-white walls, polished floors, the low hum of fluorescent lights.
The hospital.
My jaw tightened.
Then Cedar Ridge.
I stopped walking.
Now this.
Now disappearing to restrooms that took too long.
Now secrets layered over wounds layered over lies.
I started walking again.
And then…. I saw him.
Or I thought I did.
It was only a glimpse. A shoulder turning at the far end of the hall. The shape of a gait I recognized in my bones. Broad frame, familiar posture, head angled slightly like he was scanning exits without meaning to.
Colton?
I slowed without stopping, my eyes tracking the space where he’d vanished-around a corner near the elevators. My pulse ticked up, sharp and insistent.
That was impossible.
Colton hadn’t checked in. Hadn’t answered calls. Hadn’t shown his face since last night.
And he’s here?
In this particular clinic?
What were the odds? (1
215
I reached the corner seconds later and turned
Nothing.
Empty corridor. A nurse wheeling a cart. A man leaning against the wall scrolling through his phone. The elevator doors sliding shut with a soft chime.
I stood there, scanning faces, angles, reflections in the glass.
Nothing.
You’re seeing ghosts, Aaron.
Except p>
I wasn’t prone to imagination. Not like that. Years of threat assessment had taught me the difference between paranoia and pattern recognition.
And that shape p>
That walk p>
My hand slid into my pocket before I consciously decided to do it. I pulled out my phone and stared at the screen for half a second longer than necessary.
Then I called Connor.
It rang twice before he picked up.
“Aaron,” he said. “What’s wrong p>
Straight to it. No pleasantries. My kind of man.
“Have you heard from Colton?” I asked.
A pause.
Not a long one.
“No,” Connor said carefully. “His phone’s been going straight to voicemail. I tried thrice this morning p>
“Are you sure?” I asked. “I just thought I saw him p>
Another pause. This one longer.
“Where?” Connor asked.
“The Clinic,” I said. “Second floor. East wing p>
Silence crackled over the line.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Connor said finally. “If Colton was there, he’d have checked in p>
“I didn’t get a clear look at his face,” I admitted. “But I’m sure it was him p>
3/5
Connor exhaled slowly. I could picture him doing it-jaw tight, eyes narrowing, already running scenarios.
“Are you with Venus?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “George has therapy p>
“And she’s okay?” he pressed.
I hesitated.
“She’s… not herself,” I said.
That was the truth. Stripped bare.
Connor didn’t respond immediately. When he did, his voice had shifted-lower, more deliberate.
“Aaron,” he said, “if Colton’s moving without telling us, it means he’s following a thread he doesn’t want compromised p>
“I know,” I said.
“And if Venus is acting out of character,” he continued, “and Colton’s orbiting without contact p>
“-then they’re connected,” I finished.
Silence again.
“Do you want me to pull security footage?” Connor asked.
I closed my eyes.
Images flashed behind my lids: Venus smiling with that cold calm. Venus saying she knew exactly what she was doing. Venus walking past me into that room without looking back.
“Yes,” I said. “Discreetly p>
“I’ll call you back,” Connor replied.
The line went dead.
I lowered the phone slowly.
The hospital hallway felt narrower now. The walls closer. The air heavier.
Venus hadn’t just been pushing me away.
She’d been positioning me.
I turned back toward the therapy room but stopped short of the door.
George’s laughter floated out again-soft, unburdened and unaware.
I couldn’t go in there like this.
I rested my hand against the wall, bowed my head for just a moment, and let the truth settle where it hurt the
4/5
most.
Venus wasn’t losing control.
She was giving the illusion of it.
And I had the sinking, sick certainty that whatever she was doing-whatever she believed she was sacrificing herself for-
It wasn’t just going to get her hurt.
It was going to burn everything in its path.
Including me. 1
I straightened, smoothed my jacket, and stepped away from the door.
For the first time in years, I didn’t know how to protect her without becoming the very thing she accused me of being.
And that,
That was the most dangerous position I’d ever been in.
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Ruby Walker
Ruby Walker is a rising voice in the world of romance and spicy fiction. With a gift for weaving deep emotions, sizzling chemistry, and unexpected twists, her stories are a blend of passion and drama that captivate readers from start to finish. Ruby’s writing style is bold and irresistible—perfect for those who crave intense, addictive love stories.