Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Achilles
Idon't often sprint. Hell, I'm never in a rush. The world always waits for me.
But as I’m escaping the fire through Nyx’s bedroom window, her violin and other precious items with me, I see Chase running through the field behind the trailer park, and all of it lands on the ground as I go after him.
There's going to be another death on my conscience, and I already feel great about it.
I knocked him out in the trailer, so he's in worse shape than I am. And it just happens that I'm faster than him anyway.
I tackle him to the ground, and we roll in the yellow grass together.
"What the fuck!" he grunts as we fight to be the one on top. "Get off me!"
I end up on top, and I watch his face fall when he sees my demonic smile.
"You should’ve quietly disappeared from her life. But you couldn't take the humiliation, could you? A man's ego is his worst enemy, didn't you know?"
He tries to push me off, but I press both my hands around his neck.
"Don't say I didn't give you a chance to live. I did it for her. Because she's a good person. I know she cared about you."
I lean down, pressing my whole weight on his neck. "I'm not a good person. And I don't care about you."
His choking sounds are music to my ears, and this is definitely getting added to the concerto. The death of the boyfriend at the hands of the maniac who wants to possess the girl.
But then he pulls out a knife, and when I go to reach for mine, I realize I must have lost it in the whole chaos.
Fuck.
I jump off him to avoid being stabbed in the ribs, and instead of finishing the job, he stands up and sprints toward the forest.
"Big mistake," I taunt him as I get up again. "Should’ve killed me!"
I take off after him and catch him just as he disappears through the tree line. This time, I don't waste a second. I slam his head against the giant root of a tree and take his knife from him. When he tries to crawl away, I press my foot on his back until he's flat on the ground.
Leaning down, I pull his hair and place the knife under his throat.
"It's unfortunate you're learning this while you take your last breaths, Chase. But you should never compete with a crazy man. There's absolutely nothing we won't do to prove a point."
He whimpers at the sound of my voice.
"Don't kill me. Don't kill me. Don't kill me. Please…"
I shake my head when he pisses himself, and the humiliation gets to him.
"Motherfucker!" he cries out.
"It's the first time I’m killing for someone else," I tell him with fascination. "You hurt her, now I hurt you. Wow, look at me, I'm so selfless."
He shakes as he keeps crying. "You're fucked up!"
"I think this is the start of something great."
I slit his throat too quickly, watching blood pour out of him as he gargles beautifully. I don't stay to watch the whole show. Nyx needs me.
My index finger taps my knee to the rhythm of Nyx’s heartbeat as I recall what I did to Chase last night.
Even when she sleeps, her breathing seems to be of someone who's on the run for their life.
Sitting in a chair by my bed, ankle resting on my thigh, I tap while I watch the delicate skin of her neck thump.
Duh-dum. Duh-dum. Duh-dum.
I swallow the rage, grit my teeth, and keep tapping. What I need is to go out for a cigarette so I can take some of it away, but I can’t get myself to leave her side.
And then the rage comes back. Because her black eye and busted eyebrow with a stitch in it are omnipresent. And the cut on her swollen lip is calling out to the dangerous side of me.
The second the hospital gave me the all-clear last night, I brought her here. They checked her lungs, gave her oxygen, stitched her eyebrow, pulled the shards of glass out of her hand before wrapping it in a bandage, and then she was mine to care for again.
What a small man Chase was.
What the fuck! I can still hear his scream when I found him running next to Nyx's trailer park. Get off me!
I can still smell the heavy, sickening scent of his blood as it was gushing out of his neck. I cut him from behind to avoid it getting all over my hoodie. It's Sophie's favorite, and I'd jump off a building if I got it ruined.
I can understand losing your mind over Nyx, but there are consequences for hurting her. Chase knows that firsthand now. It's unfortunate he's not around to warn others.
Nyx was delirious over her violin and her dad when I put her to bed, but I'm not sure at what point she was planning on worrying about herself. And I think that's what angers me the most.
Her deep brown hair is splayed around her as she sleeps on her back, her fringe messed up and to the side.
Before last night, I spent time observing Nyx Mayer.
I know her button nose and freckles by heart.
Her heart-shaped lips, her wide brown eyes.
But it's different to spy on her from the window of her trailer and finally get to watch her while she sleeps in my bed.
The last time she was here, I was too busy writing, not observing.
Everything about her triggers something in me.
Every small breath, every anxious movement of her closed eyelids.
Every time she looks around her on the streets, as if someone's following her. That someone is usually me.
Yes, everything about her triggers something in me, and right now, it's something deadly.
I believe I'm ready to throw my life up in flames, become ashes and never take a single breath again if it means it fixes her.
The issue is that such sacrifices rarely make a difference.
I would do it, truly, but I have enough experience to know it wouldn't even be enough.
Selfishness, however, would do the job. Burn everything in my path…
that could work. Tearing cities to the ground and destroying everyone who hurt her would help too.
And that's why I know more deaths are coming. It's inevitable at this point.
For my muse. For my trésor.
There's a soft knock on the door, and I reluctantly tear my gaze away from her as I stand up and exit the room.
Wren looks at me, his unimpressed stare nothing compared to my usual one.
He simply doesn't have the same suicidal outlook on life that I do.
When I'm unreactive or unimpressed, it's because that's how I truly feel about everything, not because I'm trying to show my friend that he did something bad.
We walk down in silence to the living room, where Chris Murray is already waiting. They both stare at me as I sit down comfortably on the sofa.
"Are we having a tea party?" I ask when they keep the silence going.
"You fucked up," is all Chris says.
I lean back, wondering how these two dare talk to me about fucking up.
"I solved a problem," I reply, as if there's nothing simpler to fix than the situation I put myself in.
"There was a fire in a mobile home, and a dead body with a slit throat in the forest next to the mobile home," Wren intervenes. "You couldn't put the body in the burning trailer? Save everyone some trouble?"
"You didn't put the sign of the Silent Circle on it," Chris insists.
I watch both of them, studying who I should answer first, and decide to go in order of questions.
"Nyx's trailer was practically in ashes when I found Chase running away. There was no point in trying to get him to burn with the rest."
The satisfaction of slitting that man's throat is what keeps me thinking it wasn't a mistake.
"As for tracing the circle on his chest, I forgot."
The circle is a simple, small carving a member of the Silent Circle has to trace on a body if they make a fatal mistake.
It's for the police to understand the investigation must lead nowhere.
Only Shadows are allowed to use it, and it should be a rare occasion, more in case of an accident than anything else.
But I've always had privileges with my father's secret society, and for someone who isn't even a Shadow, I do abuse that mark.
"You forgot?" Chris repeats, incapable of hiding the shock on his face.
"I forgot," I admit again. "Nyx was being taken to the hospital, and I wanted to be there when she woke up. So, yeah. I forgot."
"You fucked up," Wren pushes through gritted teeth. "And now that poor girl is going to pay for it."
Shrugging, I calmly say, "The only reason I fucked up is because I killed the motherfucker slowly.
He bled to his death too quickly when he deserved to suffer.
But if you want to know how much I regret doing it, let me tell you, I'm going to frame the knife I did it with.
I hope that answers any further questions. "
"For fuck's sake, Achilles, wake up," Wren snaps. "You're not above everything. The cops are going to come after her. Because the body was her ex's. Because it was at her place. Because she doesn't have the privileges you have. She's beaten up. Her place looks like she tried to cover evidence."
He stays silent while I run through options in my head. It's not like I could let the man live.
"Nyx is in real trouble," Wren concludes.
"Why am I in trouble?" a rasp comes from behind me.
Wren and Chris see her before I do since they're sitting opposite me, and their faces fall at her state. I look over my shoulder, cocking an eyebrow at her.
"You should be in bed resting."
She shakes her head at me, taking a step toward us as she crosses her arms over her chest.
"I just lost everything." Looking up, she’s clearly trying to hold back tears. "Everything." A sniff, and she adds, "So why am I the one in trouble?"
Her question tells me she hasn't heard the part about Chase being dead, and it's better for now.
I'm struggling to keep my focus every time I see her wounds. He really died too quickly.
"You haven't lost everything," I tell her. "Whatever you need, whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Don't worry."
"I want to know where my dad is," she hisses. "I want my home back. Where the hell am I even supposed to live?"