Chapter 218

I retreat to the only safe space I have left in this place: Mia’s room. She is down for a nap, so I sit in a chair beside her crib and watch her sleep.

Whatever happens from here on out, whatever hurtful things the brothers utter, whatever heartache I’m made to endure, I will find comfort in knowing that Mia’s affection for me has always and will always be genuine.

I will miss so many things about the Pyramid. The food, the comfortable beds, the strong shower-pressure. I’ll even miss the brothers. At least, I’ll miss when they weren’t jerks to me.

But Mia… sweet, mischievous little Mia. I will miss everything about her. These past three months, we’ve become constant companions. It will be difficult going forward, wondering she’s okay, hoping the brothers are treating her right.

I wish I could have reunited Mia and Carrie, her mother, but some fractures were too deep to be repaired in a handful of days. I could only hope that I future for the two of them together exists somewhere in the future.

Alpha King Hayes can’t rule forever.

When Mia wakes up, I half-expect one of the brothers to come looking for her. The baby monitor is turned on. Someone must have the other receiver. But no one comes.

They likely know I’m here. They are probably avoiding me now.

I suppose I can’t blame them. Goodbyes are difficult, even if the person you are saying goodbye to isn’t mad as hell at you.

But it still kind of hurts. Especially when I leave the room, carrying Mia, looking for them. No one seems to be around. Even Neil’s door is closed. I’m afraid to knock, not wanting to disturb him if he’s resting.

The doctor’s words had been ominous. Neil needs rest.

Yet I don’t find any of the other brothers either. Archer, Neil, and even Steven’s rooms are unoccupied. No one is in the gym or the kitchen or the garage.

By the time I’ve circled the entire Pyramid, I’m beginning to suspect that yeah, they are totally avoiding me.

I feed Mia and myself, then take Mia back to the nursery to play with her toys. I stay with her the rest of the day.

By evening, I’ve given up hope of any of the brothers joining us.

When it’s time for bed, I hold Mia in my arms and kiss her lightly on the head. My whole heart breaks. I don’t want to be separated.

But I can’t stay here for so many reasons.

I hope, someday when she’s older, she’ll understand.

If she remembers me at all.

“Goodbye, you precious little girl,” I tell her. “I will think of you often.”

I lower her into her crib and make sure she is snuggly and secure.

She fights off sleep, squirming and kicking her legs. Her eyes are on me. She looks like she might cry.

She can’t possibly understand what’s going on, that this is likely goodbye forever. But I imagine she can read my anxiety and my hurt. I’m sorry that I’m passing that to her.

I slowly reach down and place my hand on the top of her head.

“It’s going to be okay,” I tell her in the most soothing voice I can manage. “Go to sleep. Dream good dreams. And grow up strong and brave, okay?”

My voice seems to calm her, and she closes her eyes.

When she is asleep, her little body relaxed, and her breathing evened out, I leave the room and walk down to my own.

I finish the final preparations for my departure. My boxes are packed and labeled. My duffle bag is filled with clothes for the next couple of days and my necessities.

There’s nothing else I need to do. I’ve prepared as much as I am able.

I crawl into my bed and stare at the ceiling.

Sleep doesn’t find me that night.

I wonder if I’ll ever really sleep again.

The next morning, I collect my duffle bag and my book bag that has my laptop and school supplies inside. The rest, I’m sure the brothers will have delivered to me. I can’t possibly carry it all on my own.

I turn toward the door, ready to leave, and jump when I see Archer standing there. He comes closer to me.

I lift my chin, ready for another fight. Instead he just holds out his hand. I’m not sure what he wants right away, but when he looks at my duffle bag, I understand. I pass it over to him.

He wordlessly takes my bag, then turns from me. He stops at the doorway, and I imagine I’m supposed to follow him.

I take one last look back at the room that has been my home for the last three months. Then I turn and follow Archer out.

He leads me to the front door of the Pyramid. I’m surprised. I figure he’d want to sneak me out the back, as stealthily gone as when I’d arrived.

Yet when he opens the front door for me, and I step through it first and out onto the stoop before the stairs, I understand. There’s no kindness to be had here.

Instead there’s a crowd. Neil, Beau, and Steven stand at the side of the door. None of them are looking at me.

In the crowd are many angry faces, and a few familiar ones. Angela looks at me with pity. Debbie, with curiosity. I’m not angry at her, I know she can’t contain her excitement for the spectacle of it all. At the front of the crowd, there’s even a camera crew from a news station.

I brace myself, anticipating the hurt Angela tried to warn me about and Steven has already apologized for.

Still, it stings in my chest when Archer throws my duffle bag down the stairs. It bounces, toppling over itself before smashing at the sidewalk. The crowd backs up to give it room. No one else touches it.

“Chloe,” Neil says, his voice devoid of all emotion. He’s here in his official capacity now. I can expect no sympathy from him when he’s like this.

Accepting my fate, I turn to face him.

“Your contract is now complete. You are hereby banned from these premises. Any attempt you make to return here will be met with harsh punishment.”

I nod, showing my understanding.

“It will be good to finally have your presence gone from our doorways,” Beau snickers. “I was tired of seeing your face everywhere.”

I lower my head.

“Get out of here, and never come back,” Steven says.

I turn toward the stair.

“He means now,” Archer growls and pushes me.

I stumble the first two steps, but I don’t fall. The message is clear however, and I rush down the stairs toward my luggage.

“Look at the pathetic little bitch,” Beau barks from behind me.

“She probably thought she would get to stay,” Steven says.

“She was nothing more than a means to an end,” Neil adds. He’s still speaking flatly.

Gods, it hurts so much.

I try to keep my heart hard, but it’s still shattering in my chest. I can’t school my face fast enough before a few tears slip out.

I hide my face, my shame, with my arm, but not before I catch sight of a few of the onlooker’s expressions.

Initially, they had looked at me with scorn and jealousy.

Now, I saw only pity in their faces.

What a pathetic sight I must look.

Still, it doesn’t account for half of how pathetic I feel.