Chapter 16: Running Out of Options (And Into the Devil’s Grip)

Cady's POV

"No."

The word is flat, final. The two men standing in front of me barely move, their arms crossed, their expressions like stone. For the past five minutes, I've been asking the same thing, over and over. And every time, they give me the same damn answer.

"I just need to use the restroom," I say, trying to keep my voice steady, trying not to lose it.

"No."

I bite my tongue, swallowing back the scream that's building inside me. Yelling in the middle of a hospital isn't going to help my case, but God, I want to scream. I glance back toward the room, frustrated beyond words. I can't stay locked in there like some caged animal.

Where the hell is Ronny? Did he just blow me off? I'm standing here, feeling like an idiot for even asking for his help, and now—

Suddenly, I hear a voice. Deep, familiar. My heart jumps, and I turn to see the two men grinning and shaking hands with someone behind me.

It's Ronny.

He knows them? I can't believe what I'm seeing. Of course. The world is smaller than I thought. I step back a bit, listening in on their conversation.

"Damn, man, it's been ages!" Ronny laughs, clapping one of the guards on the back. "How've you been since college?"

"Life's been good," the guard replies, smiling. "You've bulked up since then, haven't you?"

"Yeah, yeah. Can't let myself go, right?" Ronny teases, flexing his arm playfully.

"You're still working out?"

"Of course. Gotta keep up with the young ones. What about you? Still guarding the big shots?"

They laugh, exchanging more pleasantries. I'm still standing there, watching them talk like old friends. Then, Ronny finally turns to me, and I feel his eyes on me, looking me over. He looks the same, but somehow... better? Cut down hair, tattoos still running down his chest, that same old buzz cut, tank top even though it's freezing cold, and those crazy ripped jeans he always loved.

He nods toward the men, gesturing to me. "Mind if I talk to her for a sec?"

They look at me, then back at Ronny, their faces curious. "You know her?"

Ronny nods. "Yeah, we're exes. She called me as her emergency contact, so I figured I'd check in."

They exchange glances, unsure, but Ronny's relaxed, confident. "It'll only be a few minutes. I'll owe you one," he adds with a smirk, playfully nudging one of the guards. "Remember that favor?"

One of them rolls his eyes, but they eventually nod. "Five minutes. And don't say we didn't warn you. The boss is strict, and he'll be here soon."

"Got it," Ronny says, flashing a quick grin. "Thanks, man."

My heart leaps as Ronny takes my hand, pulling me gently down the hallway. My skin tingles under his touch, and I can't help but feel a flicker of relief. Maybe this will actually work. Maybe Ronny can help me escape.

We stop around a corner, out of sight from the guards. Ronny turns toward me, his face serious. He grips my chin, turning my head from side to side like he's inspecting the damage. His brow furrows. "What the hell happened to you, Cady? What kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time?"

Of course. Trouble. That's what he always assumes. It's always my fault, isn't it?

I bite my lip, fighting the urge to snap at him. "I almost died, Ronny," I say sarcastically, glaring at him.

He nods, his expression still dead serious. "Yeah, I can see that. Now answer the damn question."

I sigh, knowing what he's thinking. I can feel it. He's looking at me like he's assessing how much I've changed since we broke up. How much I've "glowed down" in his eyes, while he looks even better. Typical.

I take a deep breath and start explaining, rushing through everything that's happened since I started working at Mercer Industries. I tell him about the janitor job, about the weird stuff with Tate, and about how I ended up with a bandaged head. I leave out the more humiliating parts, the parts I don't want anyone to know about.

When I finish, Ronny's staring at me, his mouth slightly open. He rubs his hand down his face, exasperated, like this is just another one of my screw-ups.

He steps closer, lowering his voice. "Cady, why the hell are you like this? Why can't you just mind your own business for once in your life? Every time you get a new opportunity, you stand out in the worst possible way. When are you gonna learn?"

His words hit harder than I expected. I bite my lip, blinking back the tears that are threatening to spill over. He's referencing all those times in the past when he had to deal with my so-called "problems," and he always acted like I was the one at fault. Now, when I need support, he's doing the same damn thing.

I swallow hard, pushing down the hurt. "I didn't want any of this," I say quietly. "The dark secrets of the company literally opened themselves up to me." I try to laugh it off, like it's no big deal, but then I stop. "Forget about that. I need your help."

I glance at the guards behind us, then back at Ronny. "I need to get out of the city. I need to meet my family, get them somewhere safe, maybe move to another state."

Ronny laughs, shaking his head. "Do you even hear yourself, Cady? You're talking about running from a billionaire. Do you think that's gonna be easy? How do you expect to 'move' to another state? Who's gonna pay for that?"

The more he talks, the more ridiculous I feel. I bite my lip harder, feeling stupid. "I don't care," I say, desperate. "I'll figure it out. Just help me get out of here, and I'll owe you for life. Please, Ronny."

He shakes his head again, but this time, his face softens. "Stop saying you'll owe me anything," he mutters. "I can't help you."

I grab his hands, looking into his eyes, pleading. "You loved me once, right? There was a time when you loved me, so if you ever cared about me... please, help me. For that."

He pulls his hands away, sighing. "Cady... don't do that." He looks at me, then apologizes softly. "I'm sorry. I can't help you."

I lower my head, trying to hold back the tears. This was my last chance. I don't have anyone else.

Ronny cusses under his breath, then says, "Wait. I'll see what I can do. Just... wait. It's not gonna be easy. You're dealing with someone powerful and astronomically wealthy."

He reaches out like he's going to touch my face but stops, glancing back at the guards. He nods at them. "I've got to go."

I try to hold onto his hand, but he pulls away and leaves. My lips tremble as I watch him walk down the hall. He's gone, and I'm still stuck here.

My heart sinks further when I see Tate walking toward me, his eyes locking onto mine. Oh, God. My chest tightens. Did he see Ronny?

He looks me over suspiciously, then glances back, but doesn't say anything right away. His clothes are dark-toned now, and there's something even more scary about him.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" he asks sharply.

I stammer, trying to come up with something. Before I can answer, the two guards step in. "She went to the bathroom boss," one of them says, covering for me.

Tate narrows his eyes at them but doesn't push further. "Get her things," he orders. "We're going home."

Home? I stare at him in shock. "What home?"

He steps closer, his jaw tight, his eyes flashing with irritation. "Which home do you think?"

I grab his arm, forgetting for a moment that it's his injured one. He winces, and I pull back quickly. "I'm sorry," I whisper, panicking. "But you told me I was free to go! Why do you still want to keep me in your house?" I ask, feeling irritated.

He steps closer, his voice low. "Yes, I told you that you could leave. But instead, you went and got yourself injured 'cus of that goddamn habit of yours of not minding your business. Besides, you didn't finish cleaning the house. And I'm not going to keep running between my company, my house, and this hospital just to see you."

My face turns red at the thought of him still visiting me in the hospital till I'm discharged. "You don't have to see me!" I snap, feeling the anger rise in my chest.

He ignores me, turning to leave. "We're going."

"But—"

Tate is already walking off with one of the guards. The other stays beside me, nodding toward the hallway.

"After you."