24. Sharkie
Date: 5-16-2024
Time: 0835
I can’t tell if I need to throw up or commit murder. When Moe said he didn’t want to train because he was worried about Tide, I needed answers. He didn’t have any besides the fact Tide rarely goes to the cellars, so I sent him with Jasmine.
I once stayed in the cellars. I can’t imagine anyone being held there unless it was a Bay member or a traitor. If it was someone from my team, then I needed to know.
Now I wish I would’ve ignored it.
“What’s going on?” I say. Each shallow breath doesn’t fill my lungs enough to ease the burn. Not after the little bit I’ve heard. Not after everything I’ve felt.
“Cordelia–” Caspian starts, but I just raise my hand to stop him. I can’t even look at him right now. I thought, maybe–How could I be so stupid? He was the target. He was always the mission, but I let my stupid emotions get in the way. What would my parents say? Oh God… what would Dutton say?
Rule number who knows never turn your back on the enemy.
Not only did I turn my back on what he was capable of, but I gave him everything I was on a silver platter. I brush my thumb to the corner of my mouth. The world is full of evil and now I don’t even know which side I’m on.
Karma grins, replacing what once looked like concern. I’m sure she feels accomplished in some psychotic type of way. I always knew she was a little off her rocker. Without her in my ear this whole time I fell right into Tide's trap. My throat burns. I failed, but the whole time I’ve been here, I’ve felt closer to the truth than I ever had. I guess that’s the art of manipulation, though.
What am I supposed to do? I could… No. Maybe? I groan. My thoughts are too jumbled, there are too many voices ringing in my head merging and making a buzzing in my ears. I thought maybe–
I shake my head, trying to get the thought to leave as quickly as it came. I’m in too deep, but to my surprise, it’s not in the water this time.
“Hang on a minute.” Caspian calms his voice as if he can hear my thoughts and eases toward me, only for me to step back. My hands go behind my back and my shoulders square. I can only imagine how ridiculous it looks at this moment, but I don’t know how else to put a wall between us.
“Fuck off.” I tilt my chin up as I speak, quickly flicking my gaze past his body to Karma. I half expected my reunion to go better. Maybe a hug that I’d hate or at least a smile. Looking at Karma now, I don’t feel like I know her. I always expected her to throw up in these situations or at least freak out. She’s a prisoner, for fuck’s sake, and she’s smiling . I guess I can't complain. She’s here and that's all that matters.
“I knew I’d find you. Like I was saying when our call was interrupted. ” She draws out the word as if she were contemplating if it was the best one to use. I narrow my eyes, seeing a ghost of a smirk stretch her mouth. What an odd sight. I’ve only ever seen her do one of those flirty grins.
“Well, I guess you know who he is, but that doesn’t matter, anyway. We can go home now.” She sighs dramatically, making my head throb.
How is she so calm? How is any of this normal? Where is the Karma who went pale at the sight of blood? The woman standing in front of me is unrecognizable to the person I once knew. It's a reflex I suppose. Being put in a high-threat situation she decided to go the creepy route just as I go the cocky one.
“Home?” I know my tone is just as shocked as the look on Caspian’s face. How can I go to the place where I’m plastered on papers as a traitor? It’s all his fault.
“When I said you needed to get laid, I didn’t mean with the enemy, Sharkie. Don’t say ‘home’ in that tone.” Her voice turns stern, rubbing her hand over each knuckle of her hand. “Don’t worry Dutton and I have already started fixing it.” She continues in a whisper. There’s a wild glint in her eyes as she darts them between our bodies. I can’t help but tilt my head to get a better look at the bruises lining her neck and up to her cheek.
“Just let her go, Tide.” I mumble. I see his shoulders tighten. I can’t remember the last time I used his callsign, not that it matters. Karma’s eyes narrow, but I couldn't care less how either of them are feeling. I’m a trained soldier with years of experience pushing emotions back.
I can accomplish my mission.
“I’m not doing that.”
“I’m not leaving without you. You’re the whole reason I came to this dump!”
They yell in unison, making my black spots erupt in my vision. They sound like bickering kids. I’ve always been able to handle myself. I’ve killed grown men and fought for my life, yet they behave as if I’m the one acting like a child. What’s worse than drowning? This . He always wanted to be the villain in my story. Well, he finally accomplished it and now he’ll pay. Karma crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her nose in the air as if she just saw the most disgusting thing.
“Fine, but I would appreciate it if you at least saw me off.” She mumbles, and I can almost hear the sorrow in her voice. I don’t give her an answer because I don’t have one. Right now, they all expect something different from me. Tide won't let her go, I’m not an idiot. I need a plan. I can't just watch her rot in this cell and I can’t take off without her. This room is fucking suffocating. I turn on my heel and storm out. What am I supposed to do? Making a last-minute decision, I head right back to the area that I always felt safe in. No one can hurt me there. In that area, I can plan.
Blood rushes in my ears, mixing with my heavy footsteps through the corridor. Rooms line either side with only one standing slightly ajar. Funny, this place feels just like Bay headquarters now. I guess it always did, but maybe both Tide and Karma have always been right with their offhand comments. My mind’s not what it should be.
Fingers wrap around my arm, jerking me out of my thoughts and sending my body into a panic. Before I can process who the limb belongs to, I’m pulling a pistol from a holster and pushing it between the eyes of the man I thought I loved. My chest concaves at the thought, making whatever heart I once owned drop into my stomach.
His eyes soften as he slowly releases my elbow. Instead of lowering his hands to his sides, he grabs the barrel, lowering it to his chest as he steps forward. If only I could think. Process what’s happening without having everyone’s voices echoing in my ears. But I can’t. They haunt me day and night.
“If I’m going to die, it’ll be by your hands.”
I press the barrel harder against him, feeling his vest dip below the pressure. It will be by my hands. I should’ve never let him go. It would’ve been easier starting from the beginning than it is now. Pulling back the slide, I take a deep breath through my nose, listening to the familiar sound of a bullet being loaded into the chamber.
He doesn’t flinch, he barely breathes keeping his line of sight on mine. I feel my fist clench around the cold metal, urging my finger to just finish what I started. Yet he holds me captive just like he always has, flashing every small grin and whispered words through my memory. I was never free; this was never real. It was always some big elaborate plan. He was right to call me his siren.
I will be the end of him.
“It’s okay.” he murmurs, lifting his hand to brush his fingers against my cheek. I jerk away, feeling my skin burn where he touches.
Why can’t I just pull it? Taking a deep inhale, his scent invades my senses, trying to fog me from what I should do. Stop, stop, stop . I need everything to just… With a hard knee to his crotch, I drop his pistol and kick it down the hall as he tumbles to the floor.
I don’t want to hear another lie from his mouth. Everything he says is a lie. Brushing the back of my arm against my nose, I take off at a decent stride down the hall.
“Someone stop her!”
He better be careful what he demands of his team, I won't hesitate to kill someone. Taking the opportunity, I kick one in the jaw, relishing in the soft crack that vibrates against the walls and the pained grunt that follows. He’s lucky it’s just a broken mandible. The next won’t be as lucky.
The voices in my head jumble any logical thinking. My muscles protest from lack of training and the efforts I’m putting them through, but I couldn’t care less. Adrenaline is a beautiful thing. Each body that tries to pin or tackle mine is plowed to the floor or knocked on its ass.
All the air is ripped out of my lungs as I'm flung onto my back. I'm almost there, so close I can see the door. Throwing my leg out the soldier drops beside me, and before he can attempt to pin my shoulders, I'm on top, pulling his knife from his holster and holding it to his throat.
Caspian's eyes lock on to mine, paused in the chaos of my destruction. Soldiers sit at his feet aiming pistols and rifles in my direction. He always wanted to be my monster, how does it feel when I’m his? What does he think when there's another life lost in my hands that he has to clean up? Pressing the blade deeper it’s familiar to the first time I did it to him. The soldier's pulse point vibrates through the hilt into my palm. I hold another life in my hands, in his territory.
This time there won’t be a warning.
I jerk my wrist, cutting through the soft flesh. Maybe he’ll finally shoot me down. It’d be easier that way. Each second his team stands waiting for a signal, the body below mine loses what little life he's holding onto. Why won't he just finish it? My breathing is uneven, dropping the bloody blade to the floor between my fingertips.
What have I done?
Scrambling from the soldier I take off towards the room. The soft click of the lock is almost soothing, but it’s not enough. I grab the chair from beside the island and drag it under the knob slowly backing away from the barrier. The handle shakes as people yell orders and heavy footsteps echo from outside the barrier.
“Come on now, little siren, don’t act like this. It’s okay.” He calls out like there isn't a soldier bleeding out near his feet. He sucks at this, but what did I expect? He’s obviously not who I thought he was, anyway.
“You’re not coming in unless you want another scar to add to your body.” I threaten while I search the drawers for any sort of weapon. The lock clicks, but the door gets caught on the chair. He lets out a groan that’s loud enough to come through the small crack. Grabbing his knife on the counter, I pull the handle into my hand, feeling the carvings against my skin. What a perfect way to end him. It’s almost symbolic.
“I’d gladly let you mark every inch of my skin. You should know that by now. Just open the bloody door!” He calls out again. I roll my eyes, tucking the blade into the waist of my pants, and slide open the TV closet. I need noise to drown out the sounds in my head.
“You’re sick.”
“I know but I’d rather be sick and willingly sink with you than be sane and watch you drown. You’re triggered right now. Just let me help!” He yells, banging on the door.
I flick through the channels with shaky hands until I find my playlist and turn it on. I know it’s childish, but I don’t care. I turn up the volume until it’s vibrating through my feet. He yells, but it’s muffled. Just what I needed. He has to leave and I need to see Karma and figure out what the actual fuck I’m supposed to do now. If I could just categorize my thoughts, remember my actions, and–
“I’m not apologizing for what I did, but I will apologize for what it’s putting you through!” He yells again. Another lie. Manipulation. That’s all it is. I hope people are staring at him in the hall like he’s crazy because that’s how he sounds. I pace the floor, pushing my hand through my hair. Shouldn’t he be worried about someone else?
“I’ve always sworn that if you were going to hurt, it’d be by me.”
The chair scrapes forward and then falls back into place, making me wince. I wish he’d just stop and give up. I know I have everything else. What’s the point in fighting anymore when right ends up being wrong and wrong is still wrong? Was there ever a good side?
“Will you stay?” He asks, but he doesn’t fight with the door anymore. I don’t think he’s ever asked me to stay. Since the day I got here, I was told I had to. He kept me as a captive, allowing me just a sliver of freedom. Would I stay is a legitimate question that I don’t have an answer to. Wait, yes I do. I shake my head. This is what he does. He confuses me with all this false hope.
It’s time to stop acting like a love-sick teenager or a child in time-out. I’m an adult. This was never going to be easy, but I made my path and it’s time to follow it.