Chapter 39
VAUGHN
Where am I.
Consciousness fades and returns, my senses muddied as if underwater.
My vision cuts in and out.
Where am I?
Where are WE, you ungrateful fuck.
Shut up.
This time, I force my eyes to open and stay that way.
What the actual fuck.
I’m in the driver’s seat of my car, with blood on my hands.
My vision swims again, but I stab my gaze past the mostly dry blood on my skin to my watch, and I stiffen.
It’s been three hours since I left the party to go meet Sebastian, who’d found another of Beaumont’s cockroaches.
I met Seb, and he and I dealt with the scumbag. That resulted in blood on my hands, sure, but I cleaned up. I was going to surprise Evelina back at the party.
Besides, that was almost two hours ago. What the fuck happened?
A cold laugh echoes inside me.
We happened, motherfucker.
I shove the voice aside, then glance around for my phone. I find it in my jacket pocket.
Fuck me, I have fifty-three missed calls and a gazillion texts. I start to page through them, then suddenly go deathly still.
Holy fuck.
“Sir! Sir!!” I ignore the nurses and the hospital security guard that try to stop me as I barge past the information desk.
Someone hurt her.
Someone hurt what’s mine and put her in the goddamn hospital. So, no, I don’t need to do literally anything but make sure she’s okay and then go burn down the fucking world until I find out who did this to her.
I storm through the hallways like a wraith, my hands still bloodied and my eyes stabbing straight ahead. Then I see room 206 and almost take the door off its hinges as I crash inside.
“Eveli—”
A truck or possibly a fucking grizzly bear barrels into me from the side. It hits so hard that I grunt as I’m lifted off my feet and slammed into the wall, hard.
Black spots flicker in my eyes as I blink back stars. I’m vaguely aware of screaming as I fling my hands out and try to steady myself against the wall.
What the fuck was—
“I’m going to fucking rip you in half, motherfucker!”
Oh.
That’s what.
I frown as I look up into Roman Nikitin’s murderous face, his hands gripping my shirt collar as he pins me to the wall.
“ROMAN!” Evelina screams. “Roman, STOP IT!”
I look past his shoulder to where she’s sitting in the hospital bed. Before I can even focus on her, her goddamn brother slams the back of my skull against the wall again, making more stars explode through my vision.
“Why the fuck was my sister calling for you while she was half unconscious, motherfucker!” he roars. “What the fuck did you—?!”
“Whoa! ROMAN!!”
Val runs into the room, spots us, and then rushes over. He throws his arms around Roman’s neck and torso and then bodily yanks him away from me, shoving him back and then stepping between us. “Stop it!! Fuck!” he barks, whirling toward Roman. “The fuck is going on?!”
“I’m going to fucking murder your brother!” Roman snarls, trying to shove past Val. “That’s what!”
“ROME! STOP!”
Evelina’s scream pierces through the room, startling all of us.
My heart drops when I see the flecks of dried blood on her cheek and the bandage around her head.
“Roman, dude, chill,” my brother hisses, planting his hands on his boyfriend’s heaving chest. “They’re both adults, and they're capable of making their own—”
“You knew?”
Shit.
Val swallows, locking his eyes with Roman’s. “Easy, Wreckage.”
“Roman, listen,” Evelina says, gingerly starting to get out of her hospital bed.
She jolts as all three of us yell at her to stay the fuck put.
Roman’s eyes lance into her as he stabs his finger wildly in my direction. “Evie, you’re with this motherfucker?! This goddamn psychopath?!”
“Hey,” Val snarls, poking Roman’s chest. “That’s my brother. Dial it back, man.”
“He’s been fucking around with my little sister!” Roman roars back.
“Who is a grown-ass woman!!” Evelina yells from behind him. Her eyes burn into her brother's. “And capable of making her own decisions!”
Roman is still shaking with fury. “They’re going to discharge you soon, Eves. I’ll take you home, and we’ll talk there—”
“No need,” I growl.
Roman whirls on me. “Excuse me?!”
“Rome?”
He turns to her when Evelina gives him a crooked, wry smile. “He’s who I’ve been staying with,” she says quietly. “And when they discharge me, I’d like to go back to his place with him.” Her eyes slide past him to me, and a small smile creeps over her face.
I can’t help but grin back.
This girl…
“What?” Roman seethes. “No, Evie. We’re going home, and that’s final."
Her mouth purses and she slowly shakes her head. “No, Rome, we're not,” she says. “I love you, and I always will. But I’m going to his place tonight.”
Roman’s face is pure fury as he turns to glare malevolently at me.
I have all sorts of thoughts about taunting him. But I keep quiet, for her sake.
“You gotta let it go, Wreckage,” Val says gently, putting a tattooed hand on Roman’s chest. “She’s made her choice.”
Roman glares at him. “Whose fucking side are you on, anyway?” he snaps.
Val jabs a finger at him. “There are no sides here, motherfucker,” he growls. “Just a bunch of humans with complex emotions.” He jabs Roman in the chest again. “And if you keep going like this,” he says quietly, “you’ll lose her.”
Roman’s jaw clenches.
“Fine,” he chokes, walking over to his sister. “The detective said he’s going to check back with you in the morning, after you’ve recovered a little more. So keep your phone on, please.”
She nods. “Will do.”
Roman takes her hand, his brow furrowing. “You’re sure you don’t remember anything about the motherfucker who hit you?”
She shakes her head. “I never even saw him.”
I know from Val’s flood of texts that came in while I was apparently blacked out in my car that Evelina was walking out of the club and to her Uber when some fucking dead man…
or he will be, when I find him…hit her in the head from behind, knocking her down.
Her Uber driver, an older Indian gentleman named Kabir—I had Gideon check him out on my way to the hospital, he’s clean—saw the whole thing from his car.
Future Dead Man was wearing a black ski mask, and ran off when Kabir rushed over after seeing the attacker press a knife to Evelina’s throat.
Roman sighs, taking her hands in his and squeezing. “Evie, just come home—”
“Roman.”
His eyes fall shut, and he takes a slow breath as he nods. “Okay, fine. But please, call me in the morning. Call me any time. Literally.”
I can’t fault the guy for slamming me into a wall. Roman’s a lot like me in that he’ll go fucking apeshit when anyone he loves is hurt.
He leans down and kisses his sister's forehead. They talk for a second, and Val moves closer to me.
“He’ll cool down,” he says quietly. Then he gives me a sharp look. “But if you fucking hurt her…” his eyes glint. “It won’t just be Rome that you have to worry about. Understand?”
I nod. “With full clarity, brother.”
Roman shoots me a dark look as Val goes over to hug Evelina gently.
When they’re both gone, I walk over to sit on her bed, taking her hands in mine.
Her face crumples, like she’s been holding it together for her brother’s sake, and when I lean down to kiss her, she sobs a little as she kisses me back.
“I’m going to find who did this to you,” I mutter. “I’m going to drag them to hell for this.”
“Thank you,” she smiles. “But first… Can you take me home?”
“Gladly.”
“Vaughn?”
Evelina’s brow furrows. “There’s… What happened to your hands?”
It’s two in the morning by the time I’ve gotten her home, bathed her, gently washed her hair around the lump on the back of her skull, and gotten her into bed. She falls asleep in my arms instantly, her cheek against my chest and her hand on my abs.
But sleep doesn’t come as easily for me.
First, I make sure every available asset I have at my disposal is combing the city and tearing it apart to find the man who dared hurt her.
But there's another, far darker thought that keeps me up until dawn is starting to break over the horizon.
The blank space of time I don’t remember.
The blood on my hands, like the blood when Quentin lashes me.
But I’m Quentin.
And Demon.
And a dozen others, all parts of my psyche that I can’t always control.
Quentin wants Evelina gone.
And Quentin is part of me.
Icy coldness slices into my chest as I look down at my hands, still seeing the blood on them even though they’re spotlessly clean now.
What if it was me.
What if I did this.
What if I’m lost further in the darkness inside me than I realize?
What if I do it again?