Chapter Fifteen #2
“She was going to run,” he says. “She had names. Routes. Enough to hurt him. Enough to hurt me.” His jaw flexes once. “She thought love meant I’d choose her.”
My vision blurs instantly.
“No.”
The word comes out of me broken and thin.
Noir finally looks at me.
“She was wrong.”
Everything inside me caves in.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
Just collapses.
Like the floor gives way under my ribs and all the air disappears with it.
Brynn didn’t just overdose.
Brynn didn’t just get swallowed by the city.
Noir killed her.
The man who kissed me.
Touched me.
Held me.
The man who told me he couldn’t leave me again.
Killed my sister.
I feel sick.
I feel stupid.
I feel like every version of myself that ever wanted him just died standing here in a towel in Dagger’s living room.
Dagger’s fist connects with Noir’s face before I even see him move.
Noir’s head snaps back.
This time the smile disappears.
Only for a second.
But enough.
Dagger grabs him by the throat and slams him against the balcony wall so hard one of the potted plants tips over and shatters at their feet.
“You fucking piece of shit.”
Noir coughs once, then laughs.
“Still thinking with your fists. That’s why this was so easy.”
Dagger shoves his forearm harder into Noir’s throat.
“What was easy?”
“Using you.”
The word lands like a gunshot.
Dagger freezes.
Noir’s eyes gleam.
“There it is. There’s the part you’re finally catching up to.”
My heart starts pounding harder.
Noir looks between us, almost pleased with himself now.
Like the reveal is a performance and he’s enjoying the audience.
“When Blair came looking the first time, I almost handled her the same way I handled Brynn.”
My knees nearly buckle.
Dagger’s grip tightens so hard Noir’s voice rasps when he continues.
“Would’ve been cleaner. Easier. Brynn’s loose end coming home with questions and grief and enough resemblance to make everybody uncomfortable.”
He smiles at me.
“But then you noticed her.”
Dagger’s eyes flicker.
Noir leans forward as much as Dagger’s hold allows.
“And I saw what she did to you.”
My stomach turns.
Noir’s voice drops.
“You looked at her like she’d crawled straight into your bloodstream. Like you would burn every fucking thing around you if it meant keeping her warm.”
Dagger says nothing.
He doesn’t have to.
We all know it’s true.
“And that’s when I realized she was useful.”
I flinch.
Useful.
Not loved.
Not wanted.
Useful.
Noir sees it and his mouth curves again.
“Don’t look so hurt, Blair. You made it easy.”
Dagger slams him back into the wall.
“Don’t fucking talk to her.”
Noir coughs, blood staining his teeth.
“She came back to Severance Point like a girl begging to be destroyed. Drinking. Snorting whatever strangers handed her. Dancing like death was flirting with her.” His eyes cut to me, sharp and cruel. “You didn’t care if you lived or died.”
My throat tightens.
Because I want to argue.
God, I want to argue.
But some horrible part of me knows he’s right.
That’s the worst part.
Noir continues, voice turning colder.
“If you’d stayed gone, I would’ve let you go. I would’ve done that much for Brynn.”
Tears burn down my cheeks before I realize I’m crying.
“But you came back.”
His gaze drops briefly over me in the towel.
Not with desire.
With dismissal.
“So I figured if you were determined to die anyway, your death might as well be useful.”
Dagger roars.
It’s not a word.
It’s not even human.
He drives his fist into Noir’s stomach so hard Noir folds around it, coughing violently. Then Dagger grabs him by the hair and yanks his head back.
“You put the tracker in her.”
Noir laughs through the pain.
“Yes.”
My body goes numb again.
The foam party flashes behind my eyes.
The music.
The lights.
The crowd.
Noir’s body behind mine.
His hand between my thighs.
His mouth at my ear.
Little addict.
My stomach heaves.
I press one hand to my mouth, but nothing comes up.
Just horror.
Just the memory of thinking it was wanted.
Thinking I had chosen that.
Thinking it meant something.
“You tagged her,” Dagger snarls. “Like fucking property.”
Noir’s eyes flick lazily toward me.
“She was always property in this city. You just hated realizing she wasn’t yours alone.”
Dagger hits him again.
Noir’s mouth splits wider. Blood runs down his chin.
He still laughs.
Still.
Like he wants this.
Like pain is just another part of the performance.
“The tracker was for my father’s men,” Noir says, voice rougher now. “They needed to find her when it mattered. I knew Mina wouldn’t keep her in the apartment. Girl like that?” He glances toward me. “She was always going to run the second someone handed her a door.”
Dagger’s eyes go wild.
“You knew they’d hit the rave.”
“I counted on it.”
The words slice through the room.
Dagger stills.
I stop breathing.
Noir smiles softer now.
More satisfied.
“I needed my father exposed. Needed him drawn out somewhere messy enough that no one could hide what happened. You were never going to move on him while Blair was safe inside your apartment. But put her in danger?” He laughs quietly. “You became exactly what I needed.”
Dagger looks sick.
Noir leans closer.
“You were the weapon. She was the trigger.”
For a second, I swear I feel my heart stop.
The whole story folds in on itself.
The apartment.
The warehouse.
Mikey.
The rave.
The attack.
Dante.
All of it.
A line of dominoes Noir tipped over with my body.
My sister’s death.
My return.
Dagger’s love.
Everything used.
Everything contaminated.
Noir’s smile sharpens when he sees me understanding.
“There she is,” he murmurs. “Smart girl.”
My skin crawls.
“Don’t,” I whisper.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t call me that.”
Something flickers in his face.
Annoyance maybe.
Then it’s gone.
Dagger’s voice drops dangerously.
“You killed Mikey because he was innocent.”
Noir looks at him again.
“No. I killed Mikey because he was starting to make you think.”
That lands even harder.
Dagger’s face shifts with it.
The rage becomes something pure.
Something final.
Noir sees it.
And instead of backing down, he smiles wider.
Because he’s insane.
Because he’s always been insane.
Because I mistook his obsession for love and his control for protection and his cruelty for damage.
God.
I am so fucking tired of being wrong.
“Noir,” I say, voice shaking.
He looks at me.
And for the first time, there’s a flicker of something real.
Not regret.
Not love.
Possession maybe.
A ghost of it.
“You want the cruelest part?” he asks softly.
“No,” I whisper.
He says it anyway.
“I did like you.”
The words hit me wrong.
Almost worse than hate.
“You were fun.” His eyes drag over my face, slow and detached. “Mouthy. Pretty. A great fuck.”
Dagger moves, but Noir keeps talking over him.
“But you were never Brynn.”
Everything in me goes silent.
Not broken.
Not screaming.
Silent.
Like my body finally decides it cannot survive another feeling tonight and shuts the lights off.
You were never Brynn.
The towel is slipping.
My hands are shaking.
My chest hurts.
But I don’t move.
Dagger does.
He drives Noir backward through the balcony doorway so hard the glass shakes in its frame. Noir swings at him, catching Dagger in the ribs. Dagger grunts but barely reacts, blood from his gunshot wound streaking down his arm as he grabs Noir by the collar and slams him against the railing.
The fight turns vicious instantly.
No pretty choreography.
No clean punches.
Just rage.
Noir is fast, sharper than he looks, elbowing Dagger’s injured arm hard enough Dagger curses violently. Dagger answers by smashing his forehead into Noir’s face. Blood sprays onto the balcony floor. Noir laughs, grabs Dagger’s shoulder, and drives a knee into his stomach.
I scream for them to stop.
Neither of them listens.
Of course they don’t.
Men like them don’t stop when love asks.
Only when violence finishes speaking.
They crash into the balcony furniture, knocking a chair sideways. Dagger slips briefly on the wet concrete, and Noir uses it, shoving him toward the railing.
For one horrific second, my heart stops.
Then Dagger catches himself and turns, grabbing Noir by the throat.
“You took her sister,” Dagger snarls.
Noir claws at his wrist, face darkening from the pressure.
“You handed her to the city first.”
Dagger punches him.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Noir’s knees buckle.
He spits blood onto the balcony.
Still smiling.
Weaker now.
But there.
“Do it,” Noir rasps. “Finish something for once.”
Dagger freezes.
Only for half a second.
Enough for Noir’s eyes to flick toward me.
There it is again.
That tiny sliver beneath the monster.
Something I almost recognize.
Something almost sad.
Then he ruins it.
“She screamed your name, you know,” Noir says softly.
Dagger goes still.
My blood turns to ice.
Noir lifts his eyes to mine.
“Brynn. At the end.”
The world drops.
No.
No no no.
“She thought you’d come for her,” he says to Dagger. “Both of you did.”
Dagger’s face empties.
Then the rage comes back so fast it frightens me.
He grabs Noir with both hands and shoves him backward.
Noir’s spine hits the railing.
Hard.
Metal groans.
“Dagger,” I whisper.
I don’t know if I’m begging him to stop.
I don’t know if I want him to.
Noir looks at him.
Really looks at him.
For the first time all night, he doesn’t smile.
Dagger’s voice is almost calm when he speaks.
“You should’ve died with Dante.”
Then he throws him.
Noir goes over the railing.
No scream.
No final confession.
No dramatic last word.
Just his body disappearing backward into the black space beyond the balcony.
A second passes.
Then a distant impact echoes up from far below.
Soft.
Horrible.
Final.
Silence follows.
Complete.
Unreal.
I stand frozen in the living room, towel clutched around me, tears cooling on my face.
The tracker sits near my bare foot, tiny and black and harmless-looking.
I stare at it like it might move.
Like it might open its little plastic mouth and explain how everything got this fucked.
Dagger stands at the railing, naked, soaked, bleeding, breathing like an animal. His shoulders rise and fall hard beneath the city lights while one hand grips the metal where Noir just went over.
For a long second, he doesn’t turn around.
Maybe he can’t.
Maybe if he looks at me, the world becomes real again.
My knees finally give out.
Not all the way.
I catch myself on the edge of the couch, but the movement makes Dagger turn instantly.
The rage is still there.
So is the blood.
So is the horror.
But underneath all of it, he looks destroyed.
Completely destroyed.
He crosses the apartment slowly, every step leaving bloody water across the floor.
I want to say something.
I want to scream.
I want to ask if it’s true.
All of it.
Any of it.
I want Brynn.
God, I want Brynn so badly it tears something open inside me.
But no words come out.
Dagger reaches me and pulls me into him.
Hard.
One arm locks around my back while his other hand cradles the back of my head, pressing my face into his chest like he can physically hold me together if he just grips tightly enough.
Maybe he can.
Maybe he can’t.
I break anyway.
The sob tears out of me ugly and raw, and Dagger’s body shudders like it hurts him too. He holds me tighter, his blood smearing against my skin, his mouth pressing against the top of my wet hair.
Noir is dead.
Dante is dead.
Brynn is still dead.
And every truth I thought I’d finally found just turned into another lie with teeth.
Outside, far below, Severance Point keeps glowing.
No mourning.
No mercy.
Just neon lights bleeding across the city like nothing happened.
Like it didn’t just swallow another monster whole.
Like it didn’t leave the rest of us standing there in the wreckage, wondering which parts of love were ever real.