Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
The reflection in the mirror doesn’t match the person I used to be.
My cheeks are hollow, the shade of my under-eye bags deepening with each passing day. My hair’s never been this dirty, and my body’s constantly shaking. My hands have been a trembling mess ever since Cove shoved me into this fucking institution.
The door of the room opens, and when I turn around, Cove steps inside, his facial expressions as passive as ever. He tosses a big, black duffle bag on the single bed in the corner, then takes a seat next to it.
“Cove.”
“You look like shit,” he muses, looking me over a couple of times. Though there’s a hint of amusement in his voice, he doesn’t show it at all. “How are you feeling?”
“What do you think?” I snap, pacing inside the room, back and forth in front of him. “I’m stuck in these four walls, don’t have anyone to talk to except the damned therapist that’s so adamant about me opening up.”
“Maybe you should.”
“Oh, yes, that sounds like a wonderful idea,” I respond sarcastically.
“Should I start with how I was raised in a family of assassins? Or the fact that I massacred an entire prison because I was so obsessed with a girl? Or, maybe, just with the recent events of me killing the cousin I spent years trying to find? She’d either have me severely medicated or imprisoned. I don’t know which option is worse.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it, asshole.”
“Let me out of here, Cove.”
“No,” he says, bluntly. “Not until you get the shaking of your hands under control.”
Instinctively, I put my hands behind my back, squeezing them into fists. That way, they don’t shake as much. I take a deep breath, then lean my back against the wall.
“I’m of no use while I’m in here.”
“You’re of no use in your current state, anyway.”
I scoff. “Fill me in. What’s been happening?”
It’s been two weeks since I’ve been admitted.
Each day feels like a fucking eternity. Each night, I dream of Blair.
Her soft hair, her divine scent, and that pretty smile of hers.
And without fail, each night, the beautiful dreams turn into the worst nightmares I’ve ever had.
They are just a reminder of the biggest failure of my life, something I’ll have to live with.
“Aria took over.”
My body tenses at the thought, brows lifting to my hairline. “She what?”
Cove nods. “Lucas is handling the legal aspects of your business, because Niko isn’t in the right headspace. Aria’s taken over everything else, though. From weapon and drug distribution to making new training plans for newcomers and trying to find who the mole is.”
For a moment, my thoughts drift off to Uncle Niko.
I never got the chance to talk to him after I killed Luna.
She was his niece, too. Whenever Mom was close to giving up on finding her, it was Niko who told her they needed to push through.
Jane, Niko, and Mom were an inseparable trio of siblings. None of them deserved any of this.
Then, my ears perk when he mentions Aria’s diligent work.
“Don’t tell me she’s doing it alone.”
Cove shakes his head, and I feel instant relief. “No, of course not. Freya — for whatever reason — has been very cooperative. Blair’s been trying to help as much as possible, too.”
“How is she doing?”
Cove pauses for a moment. “She’s gained weight a bit, which is good. I’m worried about other things, though.”
Worry immediately floods me, and I push myself off the wall, taking steps toward him. “Speak.”
“I’ve given her the meal plan, and she started doing some light training, which has been helpful. But… I don’t know. There’s something off about her. I just can’t put my finger on it.”
“What’s odd? Is it her behavior?”
Cove nods. “I’d often find her just… staring into the distance, and she’s not really present.”
“That’s not that unusual, is it? She’s been through hell and back.”
“Yeah, but once you see it for yourself, you’ll know what I mean.”
“And when will that be?”
“Arlo,” Cove stands up. “That’s up to you. You’ve turned into an alcoholic, and we’re doing everything we can to help you. But you know as much as I do that unless you want to help yourself, all of this is useless. Think of what’s at stake. We need you more than ever. And Blair needs you, too.”
His words cut deep inside. I’ve found solace and comfort in alcohol, because it allowed me to shove down all the anger that was threatening to possess me.
I never wanted Blair to know me as an angry person who couldn’t control their actions.
Drinking alcohol helped soothe all of that, to mask the rage that I wanted unleashed.
In the midst of it all, I never stopped to think how all of this would affect my butterfly or anyone else around me. Because I didn’t want to. The guilt inside of me made it impossible to think selflessly, and all I wanted was for the pain to go away.
Now, I’m forced to deal with it. I need to be the man Blair needs, the man I vowed to be for her.
Because the current me doesn’t deserve her.
She deserves stability, love, care, and safety that I can’t provide while intoxicated.
It’s a hard decision, because I’ve been drinking since Blair was kidnapped, five months ago.
I’d drink half a bottle of whiskey every day until I eventually replaced water with alcohol, any that I could get my hands on. It’s still evaporating out of me, and I miss the taste of recklessness that it left on my tongue.
“It’s not easy, Cove.”
He puts a hand on my shoulder, looking right into my eyes. “I know. It’s fucking hard. But you need to remember that you’re not alone. You have people who love you and who will do anything to see you get better. And we’re not going anywhere. We’ll wait until you’re good enough to join us.”
“Thank you.”
He nods, and my eyes drift to the duffle bag on my bed.
“What’s inside?”
“There’s a letter from Aria, some clothes and toiletries that I bribed to bring in, by the way. You owe me a few hundred bucks for that.”
I snort. “Fine, fine. Does Hudson know I’m in here?”
He shakes his head. “Not that we told him, no. Aria’s doing a pretty good job of stalling him. But it’s Hudson De Santis, I’d lose respect for him if he didn’t manage to find out somehow.”
“Right,” I sigh, sitting on the bed and opening the duffle bag.
“How come you haven’t tried killing your way out of this place?” Cove asks, genuine curiosity in his tone.
My hand rummages through the bag until I can feel the paper in my hands, pulling it out.
“I thought about it, but the first week here was terrible. I was barely standing on my own two feet. I was definitely not able to do anything. Then, when that passed, I just realized people here aren’t to blame for this — you are, for putting me in this place. Once I’m out, watch your back.”
Cove flips me off. “You’re on.”
I crack a laugh. “Now, get the fuck out.”
He rolls his eyes. “When you’re good, give us a call, and someone will pick you up.”
I nod, and with one last, lingering glance at me, Cove leaves, the door closing behind him. All I can hear is my own breathing and the sound of my heart beating. Reluctantly, I open the envelope and pull out a neatly folded paper.
“Dear Arlo,
Don’t hate me too much for being in on this with Cove. We did it for your own good. And don’t be mad I’m not letting Blair see you. I know that deep down, you don’t want her seeing you in that terrible state, anyway. I have no doubt you’ll return to us and be the better version of yourself.
But more importantly, I need you to stop blaming yourself.
None of this was ever your fault. Not Mom getting shot, Dad getting imprisoned, or Luna dying.
You didn’t know it was her, and you did it to protect Blair.
It will sound terrible, but you released Luna from the chains of abuse, pain, and suffering.
Even though this is the worst possible outcome, she’s in a better place right now.
She’s not in pain, she’s not struggling anymore.
She’s at peace. I’m sorry that you’re going through this, I’m sorry for being a selfish idiot and not noticing your inner struggles.
I promise, it will never happen again. You’re the most important person in my life, my other half.
I’ll never let the darkness, the guilt and regret swallow you whole.
I’ll always be in your corner, Arlo. Always. Remember that.
Get well, and come home.
Yours,
Aria.”
By the time I read the last lines, my vision is blurry. Tears stream down my cheeks, coating the paper, leaving dotted stains all over. I crumble the letter in my hands, clutching it tightly.
My heart swells with emotions I can’t name, and I lie down on the bed, covering my face with my hands. I’m so fucking pathetic, and this needs to end now. Once I’m done with everything I need to do, I’ll be able to leave in peace.
Darkness clouds my judgement, my eyes struggling to keep open. The weight of it all is immensely heavy, and I need to figure out a way not to let it crush me to the bone.
With a deep breath, I wipe the tears away, forcing myself to calm down.
I sit up, putting the crumbled piece of paper back into the duffle bag.
If anything, as a reminder that there are people I need to get better for.
Aria needs me, too. She’s only seventeen, carrying an entire illegal organization on her back, even though her own mental health is in shambles.
She’s such a strong, brave young girl, and I’m proud of the woman she’s becoming. She’ll overcome all of this and rise to the top. Her future is bright, and I’ll be damned if I don’t see it happen.
“Get a fucking grip, Arlo,” I tell myself, walking over to the mirror.
I keep a straight face, looking as my eyes slowly revert back to the man I’m used to seeing.
The nightmare of people, the Ghost of New York.
The man that I never should’ve allowed to get buried inside to struggle with all the grief and guilt.
Once all of this is over, there will be time to deal with all of my emotions.
Right now, I need to remember who the fuck I am and who raised me. Because if Mom were awake, she’d fucking slap me into tomorrow for thinking, acting, and being this downgraded version of myself.
The Ghost is making a comeback very, very soon.
No one alive will be able to stop him when he starts haunting everyone who ever did my people wrong.
I won’t stop until their blood is coating my hands, until their pathetic breaths have left their bodies.
In fact, I won’t stop there. I’ll ensure no one fucking remembers them.
They’ll become a memory of the past, buried under the terror, fire, and havoc I’ll wreak.
Let’s see if anyone else will ever be brave enough to try and hurt the people I love. I’m excited to finally allow the bloodthirsty monster in me to take over and kill until he’s had his fill.
But first, I need to get my body under control. My butterfly is waiting, and I will not make her wait for long. After all, I promised to never leave her side. It’s happened once, and it will never happen again.
The only way anyone will be able to separate us is by killing me, and that’s fucking impossible.