Unravel (The Lockwood Trilogy Book 2) by Melissa Cassera

Author:Melissa Cassera [Cassera, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-09-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-One

NATALIE

My stomach clenches and twists, and I’m worried I might vomit all over this cabin floor.

Wes tracked my mom. Wes got her killed.

This is something I should have figured out on my own. I know Wes is an assassin, that he was sent to track me. Why didn’t I put things together that he did the same for my mom? Even though she’s long gone, my heart ribbons into grief, thinking of how much I’ve let her down. How distracted I let myself become that I couldn’t even figure that out.

What else have I been missing?

“I’m sorry,” Henry says. “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you that.”

My chest pulls tight and nerves erupt in my stomach. I don’t need his pity. His apologies aren’t needed or wanted right now. Or ever.

“Wes is not a good person, Natalie.”

As if I didn’t know that already. When someone shows you who they are, believe them. I let Wes show me over and over again who he is, and still let myself get carried away because he was a good way to forget the pain.

And now I know he’s the one who caused it.

I spit words back at Henry, and not because I want to stick up for Wes. “You don’t get to act like the better guy. You have me tied up, refusing to tell me anything.”

Henry scoffs, and I’m certain he’s about to ignore me again, but he takes a seat on the bed across from me. He leans forward and my body instinctively curls away. If he thinks this is some moment of bonding, he’s got another thing coming.

“I just told you something pretty major,” he says.

“Yeah, about Wes. What about you? You haven’t taken accountability for anything you’ve done, including kidnapping me so I can await my death.”

“You’re not going to die,” he says bluntly.

My brain scrambles at his words and I’m pretty certain he’s fucking with me.

“Please just stop with the games. I’m done.”

His gaze cuts to the ground and he looks wounded. It must all be part of his act to distract from the fact that he drugged, kidnapped, and threatened me more than once.

“I’m not playing games with you,” he says. He pushes up from the bed and stalks over, looming over me, circling behind my chair. His hand touches my back, sending a shockwave up my spine.

“Don’t touch me.”

But he doesn’t listen, his hands fumbling against mine. It doesn’t take long for me to realize that he’s untied my hands again. I twirl my wrists, trying to get back the circulation.

“There. You think I’m playing games? You’re free.”

Free.

My mind races through a million possibilities. I could grab a weapon, one of the many in this room, and hit him. I could run, though I have no idea where we are or if I could find help.

He strides to a nearby chest of drawers, fishing out some clothing. “Put that on,” he commands, as my eyes scan over the familiar Lockwood uniform—a blouse, a jacket, a skirt, and tights.

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