Chapter 17
Mila
“ N…no.” I chatter, trying to raise my voice through my rapid inhales. My senses are bombarded by the scent of pine, car fluids, burnt rubber, and my anxieties, leaving me feeling trapped and overwhelmed, as if I ’ m wearing a thick rubber raincoat on a scorching hot day.
I look around. I ’ m going to die alone.
Sure, Dom will be here; he ’ s going to kill me, but I ’ ll be utterly alone. Denied holding the hand of the person I love. Rejected from the ability to look into the eyes of my love one last time.
Dom tilts his head, pausing halfway around the car, which now begins to smoke from the engine. A new smell of oil begins to choke the forest air. “ Excuse me?” he repeats, dumbfounded as the smoke begins to float around his face, making the atmosphere more menacing.
I attempt to swallow, dragging my tongue against my palate in search of saliva, but it feels like I ’ m tasting rough, unpolished concrete. My anxiety is dominating every ounce I have.
“ Mila,” Damian shouts through the phone. Oh, I forgot about the phone in my hand. “ I ’ m tracking the phone, and we ’ re close. Ten minutes out. Hang on. Titan drive faster!” He whispers the last, knowing it will suffocate the little hope and confidence I have.
Ten minutes? That ’ s an eternity.
“ I don ’ t have ten minutes.” I choke on a whisper. “ Tell Dash I love him,” I say, then hang up, allowing the phone to clatter to the forest ground. Dash doesn ’ t need to hear my final moments, nor have it haunt him.
My poor broken prince. I wish we could have escaped together. Life would have been so lovely, like a fairytale. At last, we all must wake up.
I squint with a menacing expression, hoping it will distract from my quivering bottom lip and the tears forming in my eyes. “ N…no.” I ’ m not running! “ Why would I give you what you want?”
Leaning closer, his nostrils flare open wide like the wings of a dragon summoning its fire to incinerate me. “ Run, or I ’ ll make it slow and painful.”
Coldness crawls up my legs, momentarily lessening my fear. “ You ’ d do that anyway.”
He eyes me critically, then nods in approval. “ I see what the King does.” He smirks hungrily. “ You hide it so well, but underneath all those broken layers is a queen.” He looks at the knife and then presses his index finger along the blade as if he can make Blazes ’ s dried blood fresh again.
Hunger oozes out from Dom ’ s eyes like a plague, strangling everything in its path. “ It ’ s too bad you ’ ll never sit on a throne.” Eyes lock with mine, shattering my mask of false confidence.
Ten minutes.
Hope dangles in front of me, but it ’ s fruitless. I feel like all my life, I ’ ve been thirsty; I struggled to dig a well so I could drink and taste something. Then I reached water. I found Dash, drank down a twisted love, but it was love nonetheless.
Yet as soon as I found water, it started to pour down on me from above, as if god himself was laughing at me.
“ Your father ’ s dead,” Dom states. He braces himself, thighs locking, biceps bulging, ready to hunt me.
Every letter pierces me like a thorn under a fingernail. I shake my head, but Dom nods. “ My dad was going to ambush him after his doctor ’ s appointment.”
My forehead wrinkles.
Dom chuckles, “ Oh, by the way, did your dad tell you he had cancer?”
What?! My chest caves in.
Dom shrugs. “ In reality, my dad did him a favor. He ’ s dying anyway, so I might as well speed up the process.”
“ You..you ’ re lying.”
Dom ’ s stare is unwavering, and I ’ m convinced he ’ s being truthful.
Cancer! Death! With tears blurring my vision, I lose sight of Dom as he walks towards me. Suddenly, he ’ s there, a knife in his hand pointed at the pulse point in my neck.
“ You think so highly of your father, always trying to please him.” His lips press into a thin line. “ You poor thing, you have no idea what a monster he is.”
“ Lo…look in the mirror,” I whisper as his cold blade glides across my exposed neck.
“ You never used to lose your voice around me. It all happened after The Cleansing. It broke something in you. It ’ s annoying; you sound like a child. If you don ’ t have the confidence to speak it once, then don ’ t say it at all. Maybe I should start with your tongue. You never needed it.”
“ N..no. I’ll speak when I want.” I trip on my letters again, but I beam with pride as I watch the annoyance spread over his eyes.
“ I tried to give you everything.” He whispers as he grabs my shoulder, pressing the knife into my neck.
This is it. I can sense it. I close my eyes. “ I didn ’ t need everything. I only needed Dash.”
Dom’s hand trembles, a precursor to an impending earthquake that will swallow me. “ This would be a mercy.” He allows a thin slip of air to prowl between the knife and my neck. “ Do you deserve that, Mila?”
Maybe if I keep him talking, I ’ ll have a chance.
Or he will just kill me in front of Dash. That would be the worst.
“ I never knew you for dramatics.”
“ Oh,” He laughs, “ think harder, Mila. Of course, I love drama. Why do you think I wanted you to be my ballerina? You danced to all the drama of the past, and you would have danced through our future. As a matter of fact, dance for me here, and maybe I ’ ll let you live a little longer.” Stepping back, he watches expectantly as if his words were a cue for me to act.
When I deny him, a gleam sparkles in his eyes. He moves, surprising me as he grabs my shoulder. A scream leaves my mouth, shaking the very trees behind us. Nature seems to weep for my misfortune as the wind shifts in my defense. I ’ m consumed by an agony unlike anything I ’ ve ever experienced. My muscles tense up protectively, but that only makes the feeling worse. Glancing down, all I see is the hilt of the knife sticking out of my stomach, Dom ’ s hand wrapped firmly around it.
He stabbed me! It shouldn’t shock me, but the pain of it does.
I ’ ve become accustomed to enduring pain, concealing it from others, and masking it with a smile so they won ’ t notice my discomfort. I won’t give you what you want, Dom! I force my lips to pull up in a smile so he can’t have my cries.
But Dom ’ s smart. He knows how to make me perform for him. With a simple twist of the knife, my knees buckle, hands reach out to grasp something. They find purchase in him: my killer!
That’s when I see it, all my mistakes.
I am a predator, as Dash correctly stated. I, too, am a spider. But I got trapped in my own web.
I spun nets, but instead of prey, I attracted monsters.
Oh, how they clung to my silken walls, craving my embrace, pleading for closeness. Begging me to call them 'friends' when I should have declared them 'foes.'
I thought my skin was thick and callused, as strong as the web surrounding my life. I forgot that everything in my life was a contradiction. Each line I spun was strong, but fragility was woven into every thread, waiting to be extorted.
It was.
Everything needed balance: honesty and corruption, the devil and god, life and death.
This was it. My final breaths were about to be captured in the crumbling webs encasing me, surrounded by the monsters I ’ d welcomed into my life.
Grasping his shirt, I sink my nails into his skin. I might not beg, but my body is. My fingers lock deeper, begging him to stop.
His biceps bulged, poised to twist and drive the knife deep. He ’ s gutting me, digging out everything I have kept hidden, all my truths and lies, desires and regrets!
Before he can jerk his knife free, his entire body jerks as if he were nothing but a light switch and he was just flicked off.
Click! His body falls limp as if the weaves of time have cut his thread.
What the hell happened?
He collapses, and as I look down, a tiny bead of blood escapes his hair and rolls onto his forehead. I squint, noting the bullet ’ s entrance, as a widening puddle of blood starts to gather on the floor.
I stagger back, looking left to right for the shooter. The shock numbs me for a second, but it all comes, erupting through my nerves like a volcano preparing to destroy everything.
Pain. Blood. The knife.
My fingers reach for the hilt, but the touch brings a wave of pain. No! Don’t touch it!
Warm blood drenches my left leg, and I can only watch. I try to find beauty in it, like pouring cream into coffee, watching those two opposing forces swirl and be forced together. I find it mesmerizing.
Just watch it, calm down. It will all be over soon. There, that ’ s it, let the numbness spread. It should feel good; you ’ re used to being numb.
It starts to work, but then I look at the knife still buried inside of me, and pain gobbles up all the tranquility I started to feel. Each second it ’ s in me feels like Dom ’ s hands touching me again.
I need it out!
I grab the hilt in a strong grasp, but I only manage to move it an inch. The pain is too intense. “ I need it out!” I cry, unable to see even my hand through the tears. The heat from my blood covers my leg entirely now, tricking me into giving in, accepting the offer, and sliding under the covers as it drags me into a bliss-promised slumber.
“ Mila!” Damian shouts in the far distance. My hand falls from the knife as I swipe away tears.
Is it really them? Did I survive ten minutes because it felt like years had passed?
Damian and Titan are sprinting down the road towards me. A car is parked behind them. They are so far away that I can ’ t make out their features, but I can see Dash on top of the car, lying flat on his stomach. He pushes up onto his knees, locking eyes with me; distance is no disturbance for star-crossed lovers. He stands on the roof of the car, a sniper rifle in his hand. Jumping off, he enters the car and begins to speed towards us.
Relief mixes with other sensations, followed by hardness. Oh, my legs gave out, and my knees hit the ground. “ Ahh!” My gasp causes my stomach to jerk against the knife, cutting me more. I grab the hilt to study it, but that hurts so badly that I moan in pain, my back hitting the soil. I just need it all to stop!
“ Mila, wait, don ’ t pull it out!” Damian shouts, the sound nearly drowned out by the speeding car.
Titan and Damian reach me, their shadows press into me like two defibrillators ready to shock me back to life.
Is that what I want?
Titan kicks Dom ’ s body, but no sign of life comes. “ Fuck, that was a good shot,” Titan mutters.
That shot saved me, yet deep down, I know it killed Dash a little more. Kill by kill, I ’ m losing him.
Damian gently forces me to lie back against the cold dirt. The tops of the trees sway above me as sunlight slithers between the branches, trying to convince me to cling to life, to feel the warmth of its rays and not the cold kiss of death.
“ It ’ s okay, Mila.” Damian ’ s voice is gentle but urgent. A lie trying to trick me into believing it is fresh honey.
He grabs a knife from his pocket, quickly cutting my shirt so I ’ m more exposed. Then Dash is there, standing tall and over me like an angelic gravestone. His eyes are wide, frantic, wild, angry, and sorrowful.
My fingers inch out, clawing against the dirt, wanting to touch him, but he takes a step back in horror. His face pales as guilt takes over.
Of course, he feels guilt. He taught me how to spin such alluring webs; he made me think I could be as deadly as him and the other men in my life.
I don ’ t blame him. I ’ d rather die feeling strong, like I could throw a punch, even if it never landed on my target.
“ Where is the closest hospital?” Damian shouts.
“ I ’ m looking.” Titan barks, phone in hand.
“ Two hours,” I whisper. Each breath I take causes my stomach to rub against the knife. “ The school has a full medical team. Take me back.”
Damian looks at Titan, then at Dash. “ Dash!” He shouts. “ Dash!”
Dash blinks, swallows, and some robotic form of him takes over. “ Get her in the car. Titan, you drive. I can ’ t.” He orders without moving. He doesn ’ t come to my side. He just stands strong and solid like an old oak tree, witnessing the ending of an era, unable to stop it or speed it up. Enduring no matter what because he has to. So many people, so many branches depend on him to survive.
“ I ’ m going to lift you,” Damian says gently.
“ Take it out first. Please. It hurts, each breath.” I blink rapidly, trying to stay awake.
His lips press into a thin line. “ It ’ s safer to leave it in. Less bleeding. I ’ m sorry,” his reply is so remorseful that I forgive him. Then he lifts me, and I scream from the movement.
“ It ’ s okay. This will all be a memory. You ’ ll make better ones. This will feel like a distant dream. Shh, it ’ s okay.” Damian repeats, soothing me as I cry.
These men are so used to horror they think it’s a dream and not a nightmare.
Titan speeds, the car lurching forward. Dash sits in the third row of the SUV, watching everything Damian does. When he presses his shirt into my wound to try to slow the bleeding, Dash flinches as if he was stabbed himself.
I want Dash ’ s touch, but I know he ’ s too lost right now. Every time the discomfort pulses through me, I bite my tongue. I don ’ t want Dash to suffer more. I can see it clearly as sunlight warming your face; Dash blames himself for this. It ’ s as if his thoughts were neon letters highlighting it to the world.
“ Is my father alive? Dom…he said he was dead.”
Damian swipes the sweat from my brow. “ He ’ s alive. Dom ’ s father did try to kill him, but his security team killed him. Don ’ t worry, Mila. Your dad survived and is on the way. Don ’ t worry.” He speaks gently, like a parent reading me a soothing lullaby. I close my eyes, wanting to rest with that bit of peace.
“ Wake up for me, sweetheart,” Damian touches my cheek. “ Keep those eyes open.”
I look at Dash. His eyes are still on the knife sticking out of my stomach. Damian sees what I see, how the knife is slowly slicing Dash into pieces. Damian leans to the right, keeping me in his arms but trying to block the knife from Dash ’ s view.
“ I ’ m sorry,” Damian whispers to me as he hugs me closer. “He wants to be in my position, holding you. He wants to.” Damian ’ s eyes dig into mine before they soften with unspoken grief. “ He just doesn ’ t know how.”
I nod, my eyelids feeling heavy. Moving my hand, I bring it up to the top of the seat. Dash ’ s eyes finally move and look at my hand. My fingers are covered in my blood, but eventually, Dash reaches up and takes my hand in his. His jaw sets firmly, like the stars in the night sky—unmoving from my perspective. The distance never changes for me, but for him, he ’ s light-years away, burning out slowly and growing more alone.
Something has changed. No, he didn ’ t break. He ’ s not going to give me tender love. Fear takes over him. The little pieces of his true self he used to show me dies.This is his worst fear. Losing someone else he loves. Admitting he actually loved me.
I don ’ t know if my broken prince will ever show his face again. He just became a ghost.