Chapter 2
Ashia
‘Long Way Down’ - Steelfeather
I think my head might explode. Avery using criminals to push his way up the political ladder was hard enough to wrap my head around, but now there’s a whole secret society involved?
Do those things really exist? I’ve read about them in stories and fiction novels, but the possibility seems ridiculous.
I suppose with everything else we’ve learned, it’s not that far-fetched.
It makes sense that Saconne and DeLuca would’ve worked for someone else, but we don’t have many answers other than that.
Victoria seems sure that Saconne can’t run back to them, and thankfully, that means they’re most likely not our problem at the moment.
I don’t know how else we would stack them on to our already-overflowing plates.
Even with this new information, my concern remains on Damien.
He can decide where to go from here once he’s healed, and not a moment before.
His health, both mental and physical, is all that matters right now.
He doesn’t need to worry about anything else except getting better, and while he may have agreed to help Victoria, whatever he promised is going to have to wait.
Of course, I care about a little girl’s life, but that doesn’t mean it needs to be laid upon Damien’s shoulders.
We can come up with a plan after a little more proof and some intel, but that’s going to take some time.
Derek, Carter, Grease, and Serena have been back in the room with him for a while now, and I haven’t heard any more noises.
While I desperately want to be by his side, I know they need room to work.
That doesn’t stop my mind from running wild, though.
I can’t help but imagine the misery he’s in.
My own body has a ghost-like ache, mimicking his pain, and I can’t shake it off.
What did they use to burn him with? How many times did they cut him?
What wounds on his face is his beard hiding?
Each second that ticks by is another nail in my coffin, and I’m not sure how much longer I can go without knowing how he’s doing.
His pain-filled moans are going to forever live in my mind, tormenting me until his voice can soothe them.
What are they doing to him in there just to make him stable again?
Did they give him medicine to keep him calm?
Is he asleep or unconscious? I have too many questions that no one is answering, and it’s fucking killing me.
Instead of being by my husband’s side, I have to interrogate one of his captors, and the thought alone makes me want to yank my hair out.
Glass shatters from down the hall, instantly drawing my attention, and I know it’s coming from the bedroom he’s in.
There are some muffled voices and shuffling before I hear another clatter, and my heart stops.
Worry shoots through my veins like adrenaline, forcing me to my feet before I can even think about it.
Daisy stands up with me, but I hold my palm out to her—commanding her to stay before she can start to move with me.
“Where is she!?” Damien roars, making my knees shake.
Before today, I was terrified that I would never get to hear his voice again.
Now it’s echoing through the walls, stealing my breath.
His voice is trembling, and he sounds like he’s in so much pain that there’s a twist to his words. He’s awake and looking for me.
“D? Calm down, man. It’s me. It’s Carter.” I hear him trying to plead with my husband, and I quickly start walking in their direction. Panic takes over my movements, but before I step away completely, Zeke grabs my hand to keep me in place.
“Ash, you can’t go back there right now,” he begs, and I whip around to glare at him.
“What do you mean?! He’s freaking out!”
“Yes, he is, and he’s probably hallucinating. Earlier, he didn’t know where he was or who we were. You heard what Victoria said, he thinks you’re dead. He’s unhinged right now, and I don’t trust that he won’t hurt you.”
“He would never hurt me!” I argue back.
“He may not recognize you, Ashia! Stay here!” Zeke yells back at me.
“WHERE IS MY WIFE?!” Damien screams again, and it almost sounds like a sob.
My heart pulls and rips in two, but it gives me the strength to pull away.
I jerk away from Zeke and keep going, walking away as quickly, yet smoothly, as I can manage.
The hallway starts to close in as I walk up to it, personifying my fears and projecting them onto my surroundings.
Grease runs out of the room, looking just as distraught as Zeke does. His eyes immediately meet mine, and then they harden, like he was already looking for me. Just when I think he’ll lead me into the room, he stops me instead. His hands find my forearms, and his face turns pleading.
“Do not go back there, mama. He took Carter’s gun, and he’s unstable. It’s safer for you out here. I know it sucks, and I know it hurts, but I need you to listen to me,” he begs, and the thought of Damien in such a horrible state makes my throat tighten.
“Grease, I truly appreciate everything you’re doing, but get the fuck out of my way.
He won’t calm down until he knows I'm here, and it would destroy him if he hurt or killed one of you! Move!” We stare at each other in a silent war, fighting to be the winner.
There’s a small moment when I think he won’t give in, but then, like he understands, he lets me go.
Zeke mutters behind me, but I don’t even hear him as I practically sprint to the room.
Once I make it inside, I freeze again, just like I did earlier.
Carter is standing just inside the doorway, watching the scene unfold, and Serena and Derek are in the far corner, practically cowering.
The tension in the room settles like a dense fog, and my vision distorts.
It’s clear that they really believe that Damien is a threat to them by their wide eyes and heavy breaths. My heart skips a beat at the thought.
I look past Carter and over to Damien, and that’s when the pieces of my heart fall to the floor.
He’s awake, but not really. His eyes are closed like he’s sleepwalking, and he's shaking so harshly that it appears he might fall over at any moment. Sweat coats his forehead and chest, only contaminating his wounds. He’s breathing harshly and erratically, like the simplest of actions is excruciating.
My eyes lock onto his new tattoo, the one he got for me, and I have to cover my mouth to suppress the sound of my sob.
A detailed heart merged with a compass is now etched into his chest, and just underneath that and the tree branches wrapped around it…
is my name. It obviously hasn’t healed very well, but the message is clear as day, and I just want to touch it.
I want to feel his devotion literally carved into his skin, and I want to see the evidence that his love for me endured everything they put him through.
As the tears continue to roll down my cheeks, I attempt to move around Carter, but he throws his arm out like he has any chance of stopping me.
“Ash, you need to go,” he tries to warn me, but that familiar rage returns tenfold, and I snarl up at him.
“No, he needs me!” I push through him rather harshly, and once I get clear of him, I slowly step up to Damien.
My eyes drift to Ser, only briefly enough to jerk my head towards the door, signaling for them to leave.
She doesn’t try to argue, thankfully, and drags Derek out of the room with her.
With another small step, I turn my attention back to Damien and give him all of my focus.
He is holding a gun, but it’s very lazy compared to how he normally would, and his shakiness will definitely play a factor in his accuracy if he decides to fire it.
His chest continues to heave, and his other trembling hand is grasping the back of his hair like he always does when he’s too overwhelmed—normally when the darkness starts screaming at him.
“Damien?” I gently call out for him, and he draws a deep, shuddered breath.
It almost knocks him over, but then a different feeling descends upon him.
He straightens his stance and tenses, like he’ll barrel through anyone who gets in his way.
Even though he doesn’t open his eyes, he raises the gun in the direction he heard the noise from—which means he’s unknowingly pointing it at me…
My heart drops to my stomach and I stop moving, not wanting to agitate him any further. Every bit of life is sucked out of the room, and the air turns stale.
“I HEAR HER! WHERE IS SHE?!” he screams again, and before I can respond, I see Zeke and Carter try to approach from my peripheral.
I hold my hand out from my side, silently telling them to stay back.
The last thing Damien needs right now is to be treated like a prisoner, and if he thinks he’s under attack, then he’ll surely lash out.
When they stop, the room turns eerily silent.
I can only hear his heaving breaths and the blood pulsing against my ears.
“Damien?” I say softly, trying to bring him out of this haze as gently as possible.
“Baby, it’s me. I'm right here.” I take a very small step closer to him.
His face twists in agony, and he almost drops the gun, but then he straightens it again like something is telling him differently—or more like someone.
“They said you were dead…” he sobs. “You can't be dead…” Tears start running down his cheeks, and it takes everything in me not to run up to him. My gut twists and rips apart at the sight. The whoosh over my ears only gets louder, and my head is pounding, but I fight to keep myself steady. If he hears the fear and sadness in my voice, it’ll only make him more upset. There’s no telling how he would react.