Breaking South (Turner Artist Rocker #3) - Alyson Santos Page 0,68

me stop you, because I will. So help me.” He grabs my arm, pulling me back. I yank hard to free myself, and he reacts with an instinctive force that slams me into the wall. He curses as I double over, the wind knocked from my lungs.

“Ollie…”

I glare up at him, prepared to charge again.

“Don’t,” he warns. “Just…”

My eyes narrow right before I run at him. He shoves me back, this time sending me stumbling a few steps down before I catch myself on the railing. The stunt gives him a heavy advantage, and he races the rest of the way to the top as I struggle to keep myself from mirroring my girlfriend’s plunge to the floor. I’ve just regained my balance when he disappears through the door and slams it shut. I launch up the stairs, but the sickening sound of something heavy sliding outside squeezes my chest with dread.

“Sandy! What the fuck are you doing? Sandy!” I shout, pounding on the door. I throw my weight against it, but it doesn’t budge. He must have wedged the bench in the foyer between the door and the opposite wall. “Sandy!” I’m banging my fists, desperate, furious, and now battling a new wave of fear at my imprisonment.

“I’ll let you out when you calm down and are ready to be rational!” he shouts back. “I love you, dude, and I’m not letting you get yourself fucking killed tonight. Text me when you want to talk.”

“Fuck!” I scream, slamming my fist against the door one last time. Sinking to the top step, I run my fingers through my hair, pulling hard as I try to catch my breath. Genevieve is suffering from god knows what, and I’m trapped here, unable to reach her. I thought ripping up my knee and getting sidelined for a season felt helpless. This is… ah! I release one fist from my hair only to smash it against the carpeted step instead.

My mind spirals with a whirlwind of thoughts, some rational, some ridiculous, but all have me hovering on the verge of my own angry blackout as I shudder against a dark wave of despair. I’ve just pulled in a ragged breath to try to counter the rising panic when my phone buzzes in my pocket with a call. I fumble for it and nearly collapse at the sight of Genevieve’s number. I answer immediately, bracing against the wall.

“Gen? Are you okay? God, I was so scared.”

“It’s Corinne,” comes a sharp reply.

My lungs constrict, blood pounding in my ears. “Ms. Fox? Where’s Genevieve? Is she okay?”

“I have her phone while she’s incapacitated, and I’ll ask you to respect our privacy during this difficult time.”

“Okay, but—”

“Do not call her or try to contact her, Mr. Levesque. It’s your fault she fell in the first place. You’ve hurt my daughter for the last time. Thank heaven she finally saw the light, even if it took this terrible tragedy to wake her up to your destructive influence in her life.”

My heart stops. “What are you talking about?”

“Do not contact her again.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” I force out. “She’s a grown woman. She—”

“It wasn’t my decision. She told me to tell you that if you contact her again, she’ll seek a restraining order. Leave her alone. She wants nothing to do with you. You were a terrible mistake.”

With that, the line goes dead.

Paralyzed, I stare at the wall for a long time. Corinne’s warning echoes in my ears, her statement gutting me with each pass through my head. Is any of it true? All of it? None of it? I press my palms against my eyes, forcing air into my lungs as I battle new monsters and old demons. Helpless. My entire body has been conditioned to be a weapon, and here I sit unable to do any damn thing. My ribs ache from where I hit the wall, my head from the violent riptide of the last twenty-four hours. Just a day ago we were blissful in her studio, facing new beginnings and endless promise. For that brief moment, I got to experience the wonder of watching her break free. It felt like a preview of a radiant future. For her. For us. Now?

Tears burn behind my eyes. Frustration in liquid form. Fear. Anger. Disappointment. Old despair floods back and fills the basement in murky waves. I watch it rise, step by step, clawing toward me. There’s nowhere left for me to run. I’m locked here with