1. One
One
8-20-2024
Her life is mine to do with as I please.
-Sam
You know what's fucking infuriating? Bed rest . I spent a month in a small, dark room after getting shot, and I can only blame myself for being careless. Jasmine tried to visit, but I pushed her away. It's safer this way—she’s dangerous; just ask the wound on my side.
I'm probably overreacting since she didn't pull the trigger, but I'm annoyed that while I was bleeding out, everyone else was having fun throwing knives and shooting guns. I’ll stick to that instead of admitting I'm just grumpy because she finally decided to leave me alone.
I grunt when someone bumps my arm, but my anger cools at the sight of flaming red hair and panicked grey eyes.
“Shit! Sorry, Sam!” Moe, Caspian's younger brother, yells while rushing into the main hall. I shake my head and shove a clenched fist into my pocket.
As Moe swings the door open, I immediately catch her scent. Stepping inside, I spot her stiffly settled at the front of the large mahogany conference table, her gaze averted and her toe digging into the ground— driving me insane .
After joining Depth, Jasmine quickly grasped the basics of army life. She’s skilled in hand-to-hand combat and has excellent aim with any firearm, though she often underperforms when being watched. It’s as if she’s trying to hide the fact she retains every bit of knowledge we give her. She neglects the basics by dressing improperly, delaying essential tasks, and arguing with superiors, including myself. You can't call her out on her falsified ditsy behavior because when her temper flares, she explodes like a bomb. Typically, such insubordination would lead to dismissal, but I refuse to let that happen.
Sharkie clears her throat, drawing my attention.
“Glad you could finally join us, Sam,” she says, her tone suggesting otherwise. With a cocked brow and a jerk of her head, she silently commands me to find a seat. Though she’s new, her higher rank makes me squeeze past the random soldiers scattered around.
“Shit, Sam!” Moe hisses as I accidentally bump his head with my elbow. His brother clears his throat, cutting him off before he can say more. The scent of Jasmine's fading shampoo is quickly overtaken by the sweat of the freshly trained troopers as I step further back into the room.
“Now that everyone is here let’s get started. We’ve been planning the merger of our task forces and the necessary steps for a smooth transition,” Sharkie begins. I pull a chair from the table to face her, adjusting myself so my legs don't feel cramped.
“First stop is America,” Sharkie muses, her brown ponytail swaying. I glance at Jasmine, but the recruit beside me sits up, blocking my view, so I kick the side of his chair. He moves with an aggravated groan that earns my narrow glare.
“Sorry, Lieutenant.” Pouty recruit says, and I focus back on my elusive little devil.
No matter how much I search or what recognition software I use, I can't uncover anything about Jasmine. I try to gather info when she’s at my desk chatting over coffee or in the workout room while I'm releasing stress, but she always shuts down or flirts to change the subject. She's tempting enough that I’ve considered giving in—leaning in close or lightly touching her waist—but I always refrain from going further. I can't let myself get closer, no matter how much I want to. I have to trust her, but that feels impossible without knowing her.
“The original plan was to gather my remaining members when we hit American soil, but an issue was brought to our attention.” Sharkie waves her hand in frustration, pulling me from my thoughts.
"Things aren’t what they should be. There's talk of a random high society masquerade ball outside their usual annual event." Caspian straightens his broad shoulders, his green eyes scanning the room. He steps close to Jasmine before redirecting to Sharkie. I hate it when he gets near her.
“Especially since some mystery high bidder bought Bay's headquarters and equipment while we were distracted. Usually, select Bay members could monitor these situations, but clearly , that hasn’t happened.” Sharkie adds, gesturing to herself.
It's no coincidence that chaos struck while our factions were clashing. Now that we're united, it could spark even more disorder. My attention shifts to Jasmine, who is frozen and staring ahead.
“We have a mission to infiltrate the event. Once that's handled, we’ll move to the next territory.” Cas tilts his chin, exuding intimidation. Jasmine clears her throat, but he doesn’t acknowledge her. Good choice —fighting with your best friend gets old.
“I think I’d be better off here. Making sure nothing goes haywire while everyone’s gone,” Jasmine says, trying to appear nonchalant but failing. Her lighter tone contrasts with her sternness, leaving me wondering what changed while I was locked away. I usually know her every move from watching the cameras, but now she feels like a stranger. It frustrates me to think she’s been better off while I suffered alone. Of all times to obey, she chose now—when I needed her most.
“You’re. Going.” I snap instinctively. She doesn’t flinch at my tone, but her eye roll isn’t hard to miss.
“Don’t worry about Depth. Cordelia picked our replacement, and I’ve taken extra precautions,” Caspian says.
“I still—”
I slam my hand on the table, interrupting Jasmine. She is going with me whether she likes it or not. Her lips press together, and her head hangs droopily. While Sharkie and Caspian continue their conversation, I focus on Jasmine’s steady breaths, trying to align mine with hers. Her usually tight bun is looser today, with soft strands framing her delicate features. I’ve always kept women separated from my duty, but she feels like my damnation.
A rookie shifts in his seat, leaning close to Jasmine's ear, and my mouth curls into a snarl. The beast inside starts to claw through my bones, scratching at my muscles, pulling them taut, just looking for a way out. I cross my arms over my chest as if it’ll physically keep it restrained.
There’s no question that his past is dark; he'll drown her in it, and that’s not going to happen.
Her life is mine to do with as I please. If I choose to keep it, I will; if I want it to remain hidden from the world, that's how it will stay.
If I don’t want a fucking soul to touch it, then they won’t.
It has already happened once, and I’ll be damned if it happens again at the hands of someone unworthy.
“Sam and Jasmine, this mission is yours. We will brief you before we leave. Dismissed.” Sharkie announces, and the soldiers stand. The man's hand falls to the small of Jasmine's back, and I scramble to recall names until I finally remember his— Jeremy Oswald.
Convicted for a series of killings. All victims were found with rope burns around their wrists, a harsh gash across their throats, and a cigarette burn on their shoulders. The explanation was ‘because it was fun.’ Born January 2, 1986. Social Security number– irrelevant. Mother deceased, father convicted of domestic violence, no living relatives. Average in hand-to-hand combat, but only against smaller sparring partners.
A life I’d typically be allowed to take.
Jasmine laughs, her stunning hazel eyes shining as she looks up at him. That's my smile, my laugh. I follow them down the corridor, my steps slow and deliberate, trying to consider the consequences of my actions, but my grip on sanity slips as his hand moves lower to the high curve of her arse.
A dark cloud of smoke seems to follow me, slowly overshadowing the fluorescent lights above as I eat away at the distance to my destination. I'm spiraling into rage without any intention of calming down.
“Jasmine!” I call out, my voice low and warning.
She glances over her shoulder, rolling her eyes before looking back at her destination. What is it Tide says? I don’t even have time to recall it before my fingers grip the back of Jeremy’s shirt, wrinkling the fabric in my fist, and my knuckles connect with his cheekbone.
She left me alone with the voices.
The only faces I saw were broken and bloodied.
Now, she can see what it's like inside my mind when she's not around to calm the chaos.
“Sam!” That sweet, soft voice floats into the air, blending with my heavy breaths and Jeremy's grunts. What a beautiful symphony. He throws an elbow into my healing rib, causing it to ache and fueling my anger. Using the leverage of my hand around his throat, we tumble to the ground. Blood splatters against my cheek, and each harsh punch I throw creates a cracking noise against his face.
“Someone stop him!” I laugh at Jasmine's desperate plea as her delicate fingers grip my bicep, only to be removed for a good reason. I have no intention of stopping.
Picking Jeremy up by his throat, I slam his head into the cold concrete floors, letting his screams echo with the gorgeous cracking of his skull. He touched the one thing he shouldn’t have and marked himself with a red X on his chest. Now, it’s time for me to collect the life that is mine to take.
"It's too late now," Caspian mumbles, and my mind spirals into an unforgiving pit. Each movement feels sluggish as I reach for his throat in a desperate attempt to finish the job, but instead, I'm transported to a past reality.
“Beautiful. Gorgeous. Again.” My superior, Carlisle, claps, and I wipe my thumb across the corner of my mouth, grinning. It's not the life I wanted right now, but it’s the one that started it all, so I don’t mind reliving the moment. The soldier steps to the edge of the mat, his skin marked with welts, bruises, and cuts that mirror mine.
“If you don't succeed, it's back to the pits, Sam.” The threat snaps in my head, and I rush into the soldier.
“Sammy?” My cousin calls, but I know he's not here. He ran away before my uncle could sell him into the same fate.
“Sam.” It's deeper, with a thicker rasp that makes a bead of sweat trickle down my spine and my chest heaves. I grab the rock from the broken floor, bashing it into the skull before the voice can come again. Faces merge, blending the first life I ever stole with the one I was never meant to take and then with the one currently slipping away from my hands.
“Sam!?” A voice booms, echoing off the concrete walls and sending my mind into a dull ringing. I take a deep breath, bracing for the worst when I open my eyes, but instead of finding a pool of blood below, I’m standing with Jeremy's collar wrapped tightly in my fist.
“Let go.” A soft voice whispers. I glance at Jasmine's fingers on my bicep, then at Jeremy’s wide eyes . It was just a hallucination.
“Come on now, Sam. Let go,” Caspian demands from behind, tapping his chest to calm himself. I shove Jeremy hard enough that he crashes into the wall.
“Everyone clear out! Nothing to see here!” Caspian barks as the footsteps fade, reminding me of the crowd that witnessed my outburst. I thought I had changed, but I swear to the devil, if one more person touches what’s mine, they'll be buried in a plot so shallow their bodies will wash out so that I can bury them again.
I groan while rolling my neck, too absorbed in my thoughts to remember who is nearby. A touch at my waist prompts me to turn and pin the person against the wall by the throat. Mesmerizing golden eyes meet mine, and a sweet aroma fills the air, so I draw in a deep breath.
“I-I’m sorry. Are you okay? You're straining your waist–” I silence Jasmine by flexing my fingers around her throat.
She looks fucking gorgeous like this—wide-eyed and trembling, more worried for me than for the life I almost took. It's a test of my restraint; I want to envelop her in my darkness, knowing she'd shine even brighter that way, but I can't.
“Let another man touch you,” I murmur through clenched teeth; her lips part, and I can't force my focus away from them. “Give me a fucking reason to lay a body at your feet, little devil.”
As her shallow breaths dry out the plump flesh, I struggle to resist the urge to lean in and moisten them with my own. I've kept my distance for selfish reasons, but I'm unraveling, and I'm not sure how much longer I can protect her from myself. Her gasp pulls me back to reality, and I abruptly pull away before our noses can touch.
“Sam!” she yells, but I don't glance back. I promised to keep her safe, but all I can think about is all the ways I want to destroy her.
Before I can process my direction, I enter the armory and head for the cleaning station. When I'm worked up, I usually hide in the surveillance room, but I can't trust myself right now. I'd search for Jeremy across the cameras—I know all the soldiers' schedules by heart, so locating him wouldn't be hard.
“Sam,” a familiar feminine voice calls out, carrying a strong American accent similar to Jasmine's but with more of a southern twang.
“Out,” I grumble, pulling the chair back hard enough to scratch the floor.
“You never loosen up, do you?”
Take a damn hint, Sharkie.
I pull my pistol from the clip and place it on the table as I gather tools from a drawer.
“What do you want?” I growl.
“Caspian asked me to check on you.” She bites out, kicking the bench leg, sending my gun skidding off the table. I'd think she was fearless if I didn't know her fears.
“I’m fine. Distracted.” I huff while bending for my weapon.
“Admit it or not, people like us don’t get distracted.” She kicks the pistol out of my reach with an aggravated groan. “You’re loyal ; there’s a difference.”
Ignoring her ‘us,’ I stand tall, pinching the bridge of my nose. We may have dealt with brutal superiors, but we’re different. She’s just like everyone else, wanting to escape her conditioning.
“For instance, you wouldn't have been shot if she hadn't opened that door, yet you knew it was her. Just like she's not reckless enough to willingly walk in there, but you were in danger.”
She's wrong. It only shows I can keep promises and that Jasmine has a death wish. Finally getting the pistol in my grip, I turn my head towards the heavy steel door creaking open.
"That doesn’t prove anything. Even a perfect soldier can get distracted," I mutter as I cross the room. The door doesn’t close properly, so I glance at the silhouette illuminated in the frame, my finger poised on the trigger, prepared for her to attack me for my choice of words.
Instead, she glances over her shoulder, saying, “I’ll let your mental breakdown slide this time, but don’t let it happen again. If I remember correctly, Caspian doesn't like selfish people.”