Chapter 34 #3
“Tell me where he is!” I scream again, and withdraw the knife, only to bring it down onto his stomach.
His blood splatters against me, but I barely register it.
When I made contact again, a different blue came before me, and now I’m determined to see another.
Each blue hue that I notice, I could match a piece of him or compare it to a moment in time.
There isn’t a color that could bloom without being tied to him.
He’s in every image of this world, and now my gallery is a wasteland.
My hands suddenly feel warm, and that heat starts to creep its way up my arms. The fire that ignited within me twenty-five days ago is now uncontrollable, and I’m allowing it to burn.
“Tell me!” I lift it again and plunge it into his chest, only to do it again before he has the chance to speak.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Each time the knife slides in, it pierces him even more easily.
The room becomes a muffled cadence of voices, screams, and breathing, but I don’t look away.
Even as my other arm joins in to ease the exertion, I don’t stop.
I can’t tell what’s real anymore. There’s no way to tell if the screams are Popov’s or Damien’s.
Every thought and every reel of my imagination is coming out in my anguish, and I can’t make it go away.
I failed him. This was supposed to solve everything.
I certainly didn't expect to leave here tonight wrapped in Damien's arms, but I was really thinking I'd be one step closer to that. I was going to bring him home. We were finally going to have some kind of idea of where he is, and now we’re back to square one. We’ve wasted the past week on a useless lead, and it’s all my fault.
I’m not strong enough…
I stab, and jab, and hit him over and over again, but the pain doesn’t go away.
If anything, it makes it even worse. Shrieks continue to fill the room, and I’m not sure if they’re his or mine.
This ache in my chest won’t go away. No matter how much I yell, cry, or hold it all in, it never fades.
I love him so much that I almost hate him.
How could he make me fall so deeply in love with him?
Why did he have to crawl into my bones? How could he force his way into my life and become my heart, only to be ripped away?
Why have we gone through everything we have just for our time to end here?
We can’t end here…
“Okay, Ash. Come on, he’s dead.” Zeke wraps his arms around me and pulls me off of him.
The knife clatters to the floor as I stumble back and try to catch my breath.
My chest heaves, and my limbs suddenly feel the strain.
The ringing in my ears is all that’s left, and as I look at Popov’s mutilated body, I feel even more disgusted with myself than I did before.
I wasted so much time. I should’ve known not to put all of my eggs in one basket, but I was so sure.
The only leads that we have left have either vanished into thin air, or are too out and in the open for us to act.
Avery has his own security detail for fuck’s sake, and who’s to say we would get anything out of him anyway?
I feel even emptier now than I did before, and I wasn't sure that was possible.
This can't be it. This can't be the last stop—the last effort. There’s no way that this was my last chance… I refuse. The last time he told me he loves me can't be through a phone call, and the final moment I saw him can't be of us driving away from each other. It just can't be!
I just want to tell him that I love him.
He said he wanted me to hate him, but I would never actually be able to.
His smile affects me too much. His selflessness, his courage, his determination…
it’s all something I can’t live without.
That gleam in his eyes when he looks at me is everything to me.
Even something as crazy as the taste of his skin runs through my veins, and I need him to know that I yearn for him the same way that he craves me.
I took every word he said to heart, and he has to know that I would never blame him.
The only thing he’s at fault for is loving me, and he has to know that he does it perfectly.
Desperation claws at my chest, and no matter how harshly I thrash or kick, Zeke doesn't let me go. Sobs bubble up in my throat, and as I let it loose, I use that strength to push him off me. This anger is overwhelming. I’ve never felt anything like it before, and I can feel it consuming me.
My body hums with a dark energy, and my head begins to pound with the same beat as my heart.
It's fast, harsh, and violent—everything I should be right now, but all I'm doing is fucking crying!
“Clear this entire fucking house! I want to know everything he did!” I scream again, and Zeke tries to pull me into him another time, but I push him away.
There’s a monster crawling under my skin that will only claw its way to the surface if he touches me, and my brother is one of the last people that deserves to be in my destructive path.
This dark force is pulsing, and I don’t know what to do with it.
I feel like I could either defeat an army or burn myself out, and as I walk away, that energy clings to me.
Daisy follows as I storm off, and I don't bother to try and stop her. She pads softly beside me, and as I burst into the bathroom, she’s sure to clear the doorway before I slam it shut. Shuffling and low voices come from the other side, but I can barely hear them over my own heaving breaths.
This can't be happening…
Daisy whines beneath me, and my heart clenches tighter.
Now, I feel even worse. I don't know what to do. Is she upset because I am? Does she need to work? I should’ve let her attack Popov…
She was sitting so well and waiting for a command that never came.
I didn’t mean to tease her. Am I not taking care of her properly?
I flip the light on and rest my head against the door, hoping that it'll stop the pounding behind my skull. The thump practically echoes between my ears, and there’s no way to tell when it’s going to stop.
The doubt continues to swirl around my mind, and even though the room starts to spin softly, I force myself to stay upright.
How did this go so wrong, so quickly? I don't know what I'm doing. Have I done this all wrong? Who else should I have been looking at? I can't do anything right. The thoughts come rushing back, and I can almost hear them taunt me.
I’m not enough.
Not strong enough.
Not smart enough.
Not quick enough.
I’m just not enough!
I've managed to fuck this entire investigation up. I’ve been wrong at every turn, and now I’m lost. There’s no guidance, no instructions, and nothing that I can easily follow.
John is the only one who understands their games, and I almost got him killed.
Damien is likely hanging on by a thread, and there’s nothing I can do.
I want to use our connection and follow it anywhere.
A part of me really believes that if he were close enough, that he could lead me by that alone, but I know the devastating truth. That’s just not possible.
As I pick my head up from the door, I notice the blood now coating it.
The sight only infuriates me even more. It proves that I’m not cut out for this.
I can't even kill someone right. Now there’s more to clean up, more evidence, and we got nothing from it!
I should’ve tortured him. There had to have been something that he could give us if I had only given him the right motivation. But now, I’ll never know.
Instinctively, I reach and cut the faucet on to start washing my hands.
Blood swirls with the water and runs down the sink, which makes me rub my hands together even harder.
This disgusting feeling just won’t go away.
My skin is still crawling. The water just continues to get darker and darker, and I just get even angrier.
How fucking long does this take? Why the hell did I make such a mess?
There are easier ways to kill someone, and I should've thought before I acted.
I'm not thinking clearly, and it's costing Damien even more time in the hands of that disgusting couple!
My husband is in excruciating pain because I just can't get it together!
A soft knock comes from the door, but I continue to wash myself.
I can’t see them yet. They counted on this just as much as I did, and I can’t bring myself to look at the disappointment in their eyes.
Daisy moves to stand in front of me. She continues to whine as she looks up at me, almost like she’s disappointed too, and more tears stream down my face.
Of course, I’ve only made her more upset as well.
I pat her head with a wet hand, hoping to comfort her in some way, but when she nudges into my palm, I just feel even worse.
“Ash? Come on, let me in,” Zeke pleads softly, and I hesitate.
My eyes meet my reflection in the tiny hanging mirror, and I can see the dread there.
I know what he's going to say. I know what this means.
Blood splatter covers my forehead and cheeks, and I know that this will be the last time he lets me work.
It can't be the last. I didn’t find him…
I made a mess. The water and blood are splashed all along the sides of the bowl and the wall, and I've barely touched my arms yet. I’ve covered myself in sin, and it won’t wash away. I'm a complete wreck, and now I just mirror the destruction around me.
“I'm… I’m not ready…” I whisper, and I hate how my voice cracks.
Tears continue to run down my face, and as the door creaks open, I brace myself for the inevitable.
My brother steps inside the bathroom and gently closes the door behind him, but it rings against the silence like a death toll.
I can feel the pity radiating off of him.
There’s a new heaviness of unspoken words, and I can feel the weight of his decision.
It’s looming over us both, and I know once he speaks, everything will come crashing down.
His hands find the tops of my arms, and he turns me to face him in one smooth motion.
A towel appears in front of my eyes, and I'm shocked as he starts to gently wipe the blood away.
He doesn't say anything yet. He doesn't have to. We both feel the disappointment lingering in the air, and we’re just going to sulk in it for a moment.
With each gentle swipe, another tear falls from my eyes, and when he finally can't keep up with them, he cups my face in one of his hands.
“Ash…”
I shake my head, hating how his grip remains firm.
“Don't say it. Please? Not yet. I'm not—” I hiccup and take a deep breath. “I'm not done yet…”
“Yes, you are.” He goes back to wiping my face and neck with the towel.
“I can feel your pulse just by holding your jaw, Ashia. This isn't good for you or the baby.” His gaze meets mine, and there’s a moment of reluctance before he tears it away again.
He shakes his head, like he’s talking himself out of changing his mind, and then his face hardens again. “I'm calling you off. You're done.”
“No! Zeke, please…”
He shushes me softly, but his grip tightens a little more—forcing me to stay still.
“Just listen to me for a second, okay?” He wipes my hair away from my forehead, knowing that I don’t have much of a choice.
I have to bite my lips to keep them from quivering, and I hate how a quiet whimper escapes me anyway.
“You are my sister, Ash. You hear me? You are my sister. I’m going to do and say things that you don’t like, but I do it to protect you.
This is going to be one of those times.” He uses the rag to wipe under my eyes again, because I’ve only flooded my face a thousand times since he wiped them last. “And D?
He's my brother. He's family that I chose long before I knew I even had one. Alex, Carter, Ezra, and the rest of our men all feel the same way. None of us are going to give up until we have him back. Okay? You do not have to do all of this, Ashia. We are not going to give up on him, but you cannot give up on yourself. Alright? Remember what you promised.” He takes my hand and lays it on my belly. “This comes first. Always.”
That warm feeling sparks in my chest when I feel my belly, and I instantly feel like shit.
I know he’s right. This is not doing anything to help them.
As much as I hate it, there has to be a line in the sand.
My baby comes first. It’s not a matter of want anymore.
I have to stop, but it hurts so fucking much…
Damien would never give up on me—no matter what.
How am I supposed to give up on him? How could I ever stop looking for him?
I won’t stop…but I’ll just have to look from the sidelines for a while…
I release my lips to draw in some air, and then I nod weakly. My white flag of surrender is blowing in the smoke of my demise, but I bow down, nonetheless. Zeke cups his other hand to my face, and he picks my chin up.
“You are a mom, Ash. Okay? It doesn’t matter that they’re not born yet.
You. Are. A. Mom. Ours may have been shit, but you have the chance to be better.
What you have growing inside of you is a part of Damien, and he would want you two to be safe and healthy—no matter what that meant for him.
Stepping back does not mean giving up. We've all got you, alright? But the only one that has that baby right now is you. You are the strongest woman I know, sis. Be strong for your baby, yeah?” Zeke says softly, and I nod again, no matter how harshly my heart is breaking.
“Carter is already driving over to pick us up.
We're done here. I'm going to take you home, and you're not leaving your bed for a while. Got it?”
“Okay…” I whisper, reluctantly accepting his command, and he reaches to turn the faucet off for me.
Is there really a rock bottom, or does it just keep going and going like some bottomless pit?
I’m free-falling through an endless loop of despair and anger.
The bathroom starts to spin again, mimicking how the swimming in my head feels, and I have to lean against the sink.
The baby moves softly in my belly, and I take that as my final, checkered flag.
The moment he said I was done, it’s like my internal switch flipped to ‘off,’ and all of my energy disappeared.
I just hope that doesn’t mean Damien is gone, too.