Collided Souls

I M O G E N

"Aww..." Leona pouted, reading Cane's note for the hundredth time. 

I curled into the couch, freshly showered, hair tied up in a messy bun. A white cropped tee and a pair of baggy sweats—possibly Cane's—hung loosely on my frame. A soft, sad smile crept to my lips as I twirled the rose between my fingers. 

I thought I could avoid him. Walk away. But everywhere I went today... he was there. 

"This makes me want to kill Christian," Leona muttered, disgust warping her face like she'd swallowed poison. She hated even saying his name. 

"Not worth it," I murmured. 

She raised a brow. "You're joking." 

"He'll haunt me anyway," I said quietly. 

"He'd have to go through me, Rip, and Jenny." She winked, holding the note to her chest. "I know he's not mine, but this note? Literal perfection." 

Leona kept rambling, swooning over Cane's words, but I tuned her out. My gaze dropped to the rose in my hand. Nearly thornless. Tall, proud, and soft against my palm. 

I brought it to my nose.

It smelled like happiness. 

"I'm going to bed," I announced, rising from the couch. 

"You want the note back?" Leona held it out. "I took a picture." 

Of course she did. 

"Thanks." I plucked it from her hand and headed to the guest room—my room now. 

This is where I'd spent the past five days before returning to work. Curled up, crying until I couldn't cry anymore. 

Some of the worst days of my life. 

Moonlight poured through the lace curtains, silvering the walls. I held the rose to the light, watching it shimmer in the dark. Then came the soft buzz of my phone, shattering the peace. 

"Hello?" I answered cautiously. At first, nothing. Then— 

"You must've heard the news, huh?" Christian. 

The sound of his voice made my blood turn to ice. "Christian?" 

"I have to say, it's been killing me to stay low this long. Knowing what I could've done. I mean—" He scoffed. "Come on." 

"Why are you calling now?" I hissed, placing the rose gently on the side table and running a shaky hand through my hair. 

He laughed. Sandpaper across skin. The sound of someone who enjoys fear. 

"I thought it was time," he said, smugness dripping from every syllable. "Oh, and I heard you and your pretty boy broke up. What happened, Immy? I thought you two were so... what's the word? In love?" 

I clenched my eyes shut, brushing my fingertip along the rose's stem. "Christian, please..." 

"Seriously, Imogen. Did you really think that relationship would last?" His voice dropped to that cold, calculating tone I knew too well. 

Fine. You want to play? Let's play. 

"And do you think your freedom will last?" I shot back.

Silence. Ice-cold, suffocating silence. I didn't speak. Neither did he.  It felt like I'd won. But I knew better. You never win with Christian. Not really. 

"Don't worry about me."

"What do you want, Christian?" I snapped. "I already know about your little nephew." 

"Oh!" He laughed again. "You met Noah. Isn't he sweet?" 

"Screw you," I spat. "And him." 

"I love how tough you're getting—really, I do." He mockingly patted his chest. "So fiery." 

I was done. I clutched the rose tighter, feeling its fragile strength in my palm. 

And even if I lose you, I still won. I'm winning the game between Christian and I. Please keep the rose, baby.

"I'm not asking again." I lifted my head, steel in my voice. "What. Do. You. Want?" 

It wasn't a question. It was a demand. 

"Like I said before—you." He paused. "But what I really, really want... is for you to come home."

The air around me shifted. Cold. Blue. Crude. My heart dropped to my stomach. Home? With him?  I couldn't breathe. 

"No," I whispered. "No. No." 

"Yes. Yes. Yes," he echoed, venom in every word. 

"I'm not—" 

"See? I knew you'd say that," he sighed dramatically. "Which is why I'm going to change your mind. You come home, and pretty boy stays alive. You don't? He dies. And not just him—Leona. Rip. Jenny. Your family. Everyone." 

I pictured his face. Smiling. Sick. Satisfied. 

"You... you wouldn't," I choked out. 

"Come home, Immy." His voice slithered through the phone.

I'd rather risk myself than everyone else. I'd rather feel nothing than let everyone I love suffer.

Whether he liked it or not... I'm not going anywhere, baby. 

"Can't wait much longer," he added coldly. "Choose." 

Tears blurred my vision. My hands shook.  "I... I..." Which one? Who dies?  "I..." 

"It's okay, baby," he purred. "You'll be taken care of. Promise." A lie. 

Making a choice is one thing. Living with it is another. 

"I... okay," I whispered. 

"Midnight. Send me the address." Then: Click.  The line went dead. I tossed my phone aside and cried harder than I had in days. 

Why?

Why?

A/N

💌 uh oh y'all