Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
Winona Bishop
Gravity — Lacuna Coil
The unknown gapes at me with sharp claws and bared teeth as I stare at the stream below.
Grandma said, “You can never forget your first.”
I don’t think Jason forgot his, either.
Will it fuel my hunger for a second, maybe a third? Maybe it will feed the darkness inside me—the one I tried to occupy with books and drawings because it never stayed quiet for long.
The icy rain cascades down my body—blood and soil pool at my feet, blending with the earth.
A safe space is merely an illusion created for personal comfort. It isn’t a physical place but a mental state. This was the foundation my husband cemented around the day I met him. Danger always lurked outside the walls of my home. Safety is a far cry from an engine that once belonged to him.
Nothing is safe.
Not even when Jason wraps the body behind me, pretending to have my back.
He’s a faceless shadow from the other side, stained with blood.
His intentions are unclear, and it would be foolish to let my guard down, regardless of his connection to my grandma.
Loyalty often shifts when the benefit increases.
Where does he draw the line?
When does it get bloody between us?
He is not here to pass the time with Romina’s granddaughter.
He is here on a mission.
A contract.
And he wasn’t part of mine.
I yank the gun from its holster, spin around, and just as Jason straightens up from the covered body, I pull the trigger.
Bullets whiz past him, forcing him to drop to the ground in surprise. He kicks back as I walk toward him, pulling the spare magazine from my thigh bag. I let the spent one drop and reload.
“Winona, what the fuck?” he mutters.
Jason remains seated, legs spread out. His palms sink into the mud a few inches behind him. His broad chest expands with a deep inhale as I lower myself to straddle his lap, keeping my eyes on him as I bring the gun below his chin.
He remains silent, staring blankly or trying to.
“You sound just like my husband.” The pain laces each word. “Your eyes… It’s like I’m looking at him, but you’re not him.”
His throat bobs with a thick swallow.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “I just want to touch him and feel the heat of his body against my skin.”
Something in his eyes changes, a sparkle comes to life before me, stirring something within. Fuck… those eyes.
“Rule number four,” I whisper.
“What’s rule number four?” he asks, arching his pierced eyebrow.
“My husband is gone, so don’t search for him.”
We stare into each other’s eyes, neither of us moving.
His gaze drops to my neck and lingers there for a moment.
I’m sure Spider-Web-Face left bruises on my skin when he choked me, and now the rage in Jason’s eyes is equivalent to murder, as if killing me wasn’t enough—he wants to do it all over again.
“Are you going to shoot me?” His eyes flick back to mine.
The tension slices through the thin air. Sharp and unforgiving. I mull the idea in my mind as I run my tongue along the inside of my teeth.
“Not today.”
“I’m not your husband,” he says, his husky voice strained as if trying to reassure himself. His pupils dilate, swallowing the blues, leaving his eyes almost completely dark.
It’s so easy to believe that he is.
I reach my hand up to touch his chest. “Did I break myself? When I killed him.”
His beating heart fuses with the fraction of sanity I have left for tonight. The shattered pieces are just a reflection of my emotional state. A tear rolls down my face, and sadness tightens my chest and my soul like an old friend.
“Only you can answer that, Winona.”
“I don’t know… When the adrenaline rush faded, I felt empty again.” I brush his wet streaks of hair from his forehead, but they refuse to stay pushed back. A grin spreads across my lips.
Always the same stubborn locks.
“Stop,” Jason frowns.
“Why? You can exploit this situation just like you did at the party.”
“I don’t exploit anything. It’s you who’s holding a gun.”
“We both know you can out-muscle me in the blink of an eye, before I finish snapping my fingers. The question is, why don’t you?”
“So many questions.”
“Not enough answers.”
“Why are you acting like this?” That pain flickers in his eyes again. “All I did was help.”
“Do you want a medal for holding my hand?” I immediately regret the words as they tumble out. When the walls closed in on me, he guided me through it until everything started to make sense again. He could have left me in the dark, but he insisted on pulling me out. “I’m… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I shouldn’t have pushed.” He says, but that’s the point; he didn’t. Not even once.
“The tiny scar under your left eye… I can barely see it. It’s just like my husband’s,” I note as my eyes map his features.
“Fine, Winona, I am your husband.” He scoffs. “What do you want me to tell you? Shut the fuck up and take my cock like a good girl.”
“No!” I bark, nudging his chin with the gun. This is not what I meant. He will never understand. “I want you to get back to your tower and leave me the fuck alone.”
His eyes clench shut, “I didn’t mean that,” regret echoes in his voice.
Still, he’s a good player.
“Yeah, you did. I don’t believe a word that’s coming out of your mouth.”
“Don’t say that,” he jerks his head. “I shared things with you that I never shared with anyone.”
“I believe your stories, and I meant every single word I said. What I don’t believe is everything else.”
He shakes his head, gazing off into the distance. “You’re not making it easier.”
“Maybe I’m delusional for thinking my husband can still walk through any door.”
“You’re not delusional. Far from it. You’re still grieving.”
“But when does it stop?”
“When you take back control and stop feeding the lies you tell yourself.”
“It’s not that easy,” I reply. “I feel like everyone lied to me my whole life.”
“Look, I’m not an angel who fell from grace. Or a villain with no redeeming qualities. I’m just a byproduct of the life that swallowed and spat me out. I feel too much, but I’m forced to hide and bury it deep inside until I feel nothing. Sometimes it’s not a choice. It’s a necessity.”
I get it.
“Do you regret killing him?”
“No,” I reply immediately. “Not one bit.”
“Then let this be the start of a new chapter.”
“What if I can’t move on?”
“You’ll find a way.”
“Do I get freebies on the other side?” I chuckle at my own joke, and he does the same.
“Only more demons to slay,” he jokes, infusing his humor into serious matters once again. “Welcome to the dark side. It’s bloody around here. Cold or warm depends on the weather, but it’s always a killer.”
My shoulders shake from laughing.
I feel like I’m losing a few loose screws.
The forest hums with activity tonight, and distant howls echo as I gaze at the body. The sheet is wrapped around him, and the ends are secured tightly with a rope.
“Do you know him?”
“Do you?” I reverse the question back at him.
He lifts his shoulders a few inches and shrugs.
“I don’t either.”
“Are you ready to get rid of him?” Jason asks softly.
“I’m ready.” I nod as I rise to my feet and offer him my hand.
He takes it and says, “Any last words?”
“Besides, good riddance.”
Jason starts laughing. It’s strained but present. “You’re funny. I bet by the end of the year, you will switch careers and pursue entertainment.”
I let out a short, half-suppressed laugh. “Look who’s talking.”
He rolls his eyes playfully and lifts the body over his shoulder. I tuck my gun back into its holster, and we walk together to the cliff’s edge. Jason drops him onto the ledge, the mud squishes beneath the sheet, and Jason kicks him off the cliff.
The body falls before it hits the surface of the water with a mighty splash. It quickly floats down the stream with the rapid flow, screaming bloody murder.
How easy it is to take a life; it can happen in the blink of an eye. But how hard it is to live in a world like this.
Eternal abyss.
A sinner’s refuge.
I know this feeling won’t disappear as if there were a cure that could magically take it away. Like Jason said, we learn to live beside it.
Even though I can’t escape the memories, I’ve shared many moments worth remembering with my husband—my bodyguard.
“You’re not here to watch over me anymore,” I whisper. “You belong to the heavens now. It’s time for me to lift the weight off your shoulders. I’ll wear the heavy chains you carried around my neck this time.”
“Winona, that’s your new bodyguard, Reeve. And this is my granddaughter, Winona,” Grandma introduces us with a wide smile. I’ve never seen her smile at anyone but me.
We’ve done this so many times that I couldn’t care less. He’s not going to last long. They fall like flies around here. Though I’m curious, he seems... young. About my age. Maybe a little older.
The longer we stand here, the more intense his scowl becomes.
“Do you like bikes, Reeve?” I step closer to the pillar of a man, he is. It’s pretty alarming. The scent of mint, cigarettes, and sandalwood cloaks him so tightly that I’m forced to inhale it before I shoot him a sly grin.
“Sure, they’re loud,” he responds brusquely, cutting through my essence as he dares to gaze down at me, and in that moment, it feels like the stars align. Something clicks. The vibrant energy radiating from him surges through me as well.
“Can you stay out of my way while you babysit me?” My eyes narrow a fraction.
“Within reason.” Now his tone is lighter and more playful. We’re making progress.
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
“Perhaps.” He licks his lips slowly, sizing me up. “I’m more into aliens.”
Aliens work for me.
“Pizza and Coke?”
“I’ll add garlic bread.”
Nice.
“What’s your favorite movie?”
“I prefer to read your favorite books,” he answers automatically, as if he knows what they are. If he did, he would probably have run the other way.
“Romance?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Comics?”
We can do both.
That last one makes me giggle since I hoped he was a dog when Grandma said she had a surprise for my eighteenth birthday. “Do you play fetch?”
“Only if I get a treat.” His facial muscles are taut, unmoving, and sculpted to perfection. I giggle again at his adorable answer.
The wild flicker in his eyes suggests that he wants to say more. Yet, I see something else in them: sadness. I wonder if he feels as though he doesn’t fit into this world the same way I do. I often feel like I don’t even belong in this house.
“He is fun,” I tell Grandma as my eyes slide her way, watching her leave the garden without saying as much as a goodbye. I return my gaze to him and say, “Welcome aboard.”
“After you.” He waits for me to make the first move.
So polite and trained.
A giddy sensation travels through me.
Before I move, my gaze drops to his shoelaces, lingering there momentarily.
“Why are they tied backward?” I point to his boots.
He also drops his gaze. “Oh, the shoelaces?”
I nod.
“It throws people off easily and gives me an advantage. Work smart, not hard.” His whole demeanor changes once Grandma is out of sight.
An inviting grin slowly pulls at the corners of his lips, pleasant and graceful to the point that it becomes hauntingly sexy, and goosebumps break over my skin. Nope. “You fell for it,” he finishes.
I did… uhh.
I step onto the balcony, and Jason sets the rifle aside. He watched my tower while I was showering.
“Did you know my husband? Considering that you worked with my grandma for a long time.” I know I’m a broken record with so many questions, but I can’t shake the feeling that something doesn’t add up.
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he lights a cigarette and takes a drag before he shoves the lighter into his pocket.
The same ritual he had yesterday. Well… It’s already early morning, so it was two days ago.
“No. I don’t think so.” Smoke curls around him. “Maybe we were placed in different locations. Romina has dozens of teams.”
Right…
I’m not his target, but someone is. He wants me to follow the narrative of a bodyguard who’s also a contract killer with a fake identity, so what is the endgame?
If my husband had an identical twin I didn’t know about, that would be even more fucked up.
I gnaw on my bottom lip.
We were best friends. I didn’t know everything about his life, but he would never have kept that information from me.
Would he…?
“What’s on your mind? I can hear your gears turning,” he questions, filling his lungs with more smoke.
“That thing will kill you.”
“Is that your subtle way of telling me to quit?”
“I think you’re lying again.” My bones are numb yet aching. I’m exhausted from the secrets and lies. “Do you have a twin?”
“W-what, no.”
“Did you kill my husband?”
Our eyes are locked on like magnets, the force far too strong to ignore.
“Not this again.”
“Did you or did you not?” I say, grinding my teeth.
“I can play the villain in your story if that’s what you want.
It won’t make a difference. So…” Jason’s tone becomes icy and rough as he flicks the cigarette off the balcony.
He grabs the zipline harness from the floor with sharp movements, pushing his legs inside one by one. “Make me your villain.”