Chapter 33 Maddox
MADDOX
I slam my phone on my kitchen counter hard enough for the screen to shatter.
I’m going to fucking kill my father.
I was worried this day would come. I simply didn’t think Roland would be the one who signed Reyna’s death certificate. I’ll have a hit on my head if I take him out, but my options are limited.
“Fuck,” I snarl, throwing a crystal tumbler across the room.
Shepherd will already know what’s gone down since Alex is his favorite fresh blood. Why the fuck was he there?
It’s been impossible trying to organize a clean-up crew to dispose of the body and wipe all traces of Reyna from the scene. Everyone I could send has ties to the Dornmonts or Roland.
I’m going to have to clean it up myself.
The sound of running water from the upstairs shower cuts off.
We should have gone straight to the safe house, but she was shivering and scrubbing at his blood on her skin.
I couldn’t wait another minute watching her suffer like that when this is all my fault.
None of this would have happened if I hadn’t been selfish.
Taking her to my townhouse was the only option.
My breaths come out heavy as I pinch the bridge of my nose.
I can’t fucking lose her.
I fucking can’t.
Any plan I devise now will result in sacrificing someone I care about. I haven’t had the opportunity to talk to Spencer about my intentions or tell him the truth about everything I’ve shielded him from since he was born.
When I left Reyna with Lawrence a week ago, I realized that putting my brother first isn’t enough for me anymore.
I was lying to myself if I thought my dedication would ever satisfy them.
They were always going to drag Spencer into their fold in some way.
So what was the point of throwing away my one shot at happiness just to buy my brother a couple more years of freedom?
Freedom Spencer keeps fighting against because he’s insistent on being involved with the Order.
Last night, I was convinced I would find a way to keep Reyna in my life against all odds.
It’s abundantly clear now that the only way it could happen would be if we disappeared.
But hiding means ending her career. She will forever be running, keeping herself out of the limelight.
Her talent would be wasted because Roland wouldn’t rest until she’s in a grave, and I’m back to being a leashed dog.
Unless I marry Abi.
Fuck that for a joke. I don’t want Abi; I want Reyna. I have only ever wanted Reyna.
But if I married Abi, Roland would remove the target from Reyna’s head. Spencer would be safe for a couple more years. My own career would dissolve into nothing because I’d never have a muse again. I’d be back where I started. A washed-up artist, fighting to hold on to something to call his own.
I may not be willing to ruin my life for Spencer anymore, but am I willing to spend an eternity being miserable if it means Reyna gets her dreams?
Yes.
I’d sacrifice my own happiness for her life even if it killed me.
I told her I’m all in. I promised I would never do that again, but what the fuck am I meant to do?
Try as I might, I don’t have the power to protect her from the Order if we did go into hiding.
The only way to keep her safe is to give myself over to them and do everything they say without question.
One thing I asked for. One thing I wanted. And I can’t fucking have it. Gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, I hang my head beneath my shoulders, scowling at the marble countertop.
I could have washed my hands in holy water, bathed in crystal water, still, I should have been afraid of touching her, because one should never touch art.
But for the first time in my life, I allowed myself to break that rule.
To stain the art with my blood-soaked hands.
Now, her name is painted and sealed in red.
It’s all my fault.
Yet letting go of her is a road that will only lead to despair.
I can’t do it.
I won’t do it to her.
I’m not ready to say my goodbyes.
A click sounds beside me. I slowly turn my head to come face-to-face with the barrel of a gun.
“I told you to stay away, and look what happened.” Shepherd’s voice is a low cadence that doesn’t betray his emotions. He watches me from the kitchen door, cataloging my downfall while wearing a designer suit.
I straighten to my full height and fail to hide my emotions because of my heaving chest. I can’t lose her. I need more time.
“You had one simple task: focus on your engagement. And you couldn’t do it.”
My lips twitch. I can’t bear the thought of being bound to Abigail Dornmont for the rest of my life. It should be Reyna who wears my ring. Not her.
“I’m going to,” I lie.
“The damage is done. There’s only one way forward.” Shepherd sighs, the sound heavy with disappointment.
Fighting him will only guarantee my, Reyna’s, and my brother’s deaths. Either way, the distance between us means he’ll shoot me before I can lay a finger on him.
If Shepherd orders a hit, it’ll be carried out one way or another. No one is allowed to rest until that person’s heart stops, because what the grand magistrate wants, the grand magistrate gets.
“Kill me, and you’ll ruin House Shaw.” Roland’s, and potentially the Dornmonts’, election campaign would take a substantial hit if I were to die—unless Shepherd makes it look like an accident, and he’s very good at making it look like an accident.
A fake heart attack. Gas leak. Engine malfunction. Organ failure. An allergic reaction. Defying a direct command and keeping secrets are just two ways to meet the ferryman.
“You did that all on your own, son. As for Roland, he will bear the consequences of his decision.” There’s a hint of sorrow in his voice that I thought I’d never hear from the Order’s supreme leader. “It’s a shame it has to come to this. I saw you as one of my own.”
“A couple more days.” The years I spent dedicated to the Order must buy me this one last thing. “I need to clean up after Alex’s kill, and make sure she’s safe and taken care of for the rest of her life.”
It makes me sick that I’m revealing my hand and showing him the full spectrum of my weakness, but I can’t hide it. Reyna comes first. Always.
The slightest divot forms on his forehead. “You care about her?”
Inhaling sharply, I say, “I love her.”
It’s not a feeling I thought I was capable of, yet it’s the only word to explain the lengths I’m willing to go to for her and the emotion that surges in my chest whenever I think about her. I need to tell her. Fuck, I wish I could have spent a lifetime showing her.
“And yet you brought her into this life? Knowing what could happen if she got too close.” The edges of Shepherd’s lips tip down. “You killed Reyna the second you decided to fall in love with her.”
It’s not something I can respond to. I knew the risk the moment I found myself gravitating toward her. Still, I took the plunge. I want to live so I can keep protecting her, but I’ll never be able to escape the Order and keep her and Spencer safe.
My chest aches, like the dead weight between my ribs is struggling to beat. I wouldn’t survive watching her fall in love with another person. Truthfully, I’m not certain I wouldn’t kill them.
Why can’t I fucking have this? I’ll give up my art, my kills, all of it. Reyna is meant to be mine. I’m already hers.
“I need more time,” I demand, slamming the counter. More time to look at her. More time to hold her. More time to tell her that she means everything to me. More time to decide whether we’ll take our chances and run. I’ll be fucking dead without her anyway.
“No.”
Fuck.
I run my hands through my hair. Press my fist against my mouth to hold back the rage that’s tearing my organs like poison. My throat closes. Everything fucking hurts.
I wish I could kill him.
I wish I could kill them all.
“Let me say goodbye first.”
I can’t leave without saying goodbye.
“Please.”
I’ve never said that word to him before. I thought it was just something guilty men spat out. But when I heard Reyna say it, I knew I was wrong. That one syllable from her, and I’d destroy the world.
Looking at the man who sharpened me into who I am, I know he sees the same thing I used to see every time men would beg for their lives. To him the word is just a word.
“No. It’d be best for her if you disappeared for good.” For a moment, I swear guilt flashes behind his eyes. “It’s time, Maddox. Make your peace with the choices you’ve made. This is the only good thing you can do for—”
I whip my head toward the movement at the corner of my vision to find Reyna looking at Shepherd like she’s seeing a ghost. His expression is of sheer, inexplicable panic.
I glance between them. The resemblance hits me for the first time: the rich shade of their eyes, the identical flick of their brows, the curve of their chins, even the little cleft in their noses.
“Dad?”
“Reyna,” Shepherd gasps.