21. The Dilemma
The Dilemma
Onyx
Now that I had a grip on his hand holding the knife, with all my strength, I smashed the heel of my other palm into his nose. There was a satisfying crack and he stumbled back, releasing the knife.
It fell to the ground.
Yes!
Adrenaline pumped through my veins.
I could have grabbed the knife right there, but it was too close to his foot, allowing him the opportunity to kick me in the head.
Instead, I charged for him and delivered a powerful blow to his abdomen—a desperate attack fueled by every ounce of fear for the lust that he had sparked within me.
With that blow, the air was knocked out of him.
Havoc doubled over in pain and shock.
Now who’s in control?
“Goddamn it.” His breaths came out ragged and uneven but his eyes maintained their deranged intensity.
“Come on.” I gestured. “Finish getting your ass whipping.”
“Oh yeah?!” He lunged at me but I was ready. I pivoted on my heel, narrowly escaping his reach. With a fluidity that surprised even myself, I jumped high into the air and brought my elbow crashing down into the back of his head.
“Ahh!” His body buckled and he fell to his knees.
“Yeah.” I took a step back, panting, while he struggled to regain his balance.
Come on. Put him to sleep.
“Goodnight, pervert.” Fast, I aimed a fierce kick at his head, and he crumpled like a ragdoll, crashing to the ground.
Oh shit.
I blew out a long breath.
I did it. I fucking did it.
As quickly as I could, I snatched up the discarded knife and then I got next to him, lifted his wrist, and checked his pulse.
Strong but uneven.
He was just unconscious.
I let go of his wrist and rose. Perspiration trickled down my forehead, my heart pounded like a drum in my chest. My legs were shaking, but I forced myself to stay upright.
I can kill him right now. It would be so easy.
The knife hung heavy in my hand.
I stared down at Havoc's unconscious body, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. His eyes closed as if he were actually asleep.
Go ahead. . .kill him. . .
But even as the thought took hold, something inside me resisted.
My hand shook.
What’s stopping you?
I gripped the knife tighter, the cold metal pressing into my palm and grounding me in this treacherous present moment.
Onyx, you know what you have to do.
Killing Havoc would mean survival—no more threats, no more games of power and control.
No more. . .unwanted lust.
I shivered.
Do it.
With him dead, I could walk around this island, maybe even find a way to escape. But it would also mean crossing a line I wasn’t sure I could ever come back from.
I’ve killed so many times before. . .why is this one bothering me?
My gaze lingered on his face, twisted in pain even in unconsciousness.
He was a monster, no doubt, but I was a monster too.
The memories of his touch, his words, the knife tracing my skin, all came flooding back, igniting anger and desire within my body.
Stop it. Concentrate. What are you going to do?
Next, another emotion crept in, one I wasn’t ready to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore.
Loneliness.
I don’t want to be. . .alone here. . .
The thought slithered into my mind, completely unwelcome.
I had been fighting so hard to escape him, to break free from his control, but now that I had the chance to end it all, to be truly free, and. . .I found myself hesitating. Not because I feared killing him—no, I knew I could do it if I really wanted to—but because I wasn’t sure I wanted to be alone on this island for the rest of my godforsaken life.
Damn it.
The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, leaving me breathless.
What kind of twisted logic was this?
After everything he’d put me through, why would I even consider keeping him alive, let alone wanting him around?
But the truth was undeniable—the thought of being completely alone on this island terrified me almost as much as Havoc did.
For all his seducing cruelty, all his erotic manipulation, he was still a presence, still another human being in this desolate place. The thought of being the last person here, of wandering this island’s empty shores with nothing but my thoughts and memories, drowned me with dread.
Am I really fucking serious?
Sighing, I knelt beside him, studying his face, searching for some sign of humanity beneath the harsh exterior.
He was a monster, but he was also a man.
A man who had somehow become intertwined with my survival.
With my very existence on this island.
If I killed him, I’d be free from his threats.
His games.
His attempts to dominate me.
But I’d also be free from the only other living soul here.
Could I handle that?
Something else hit me too.
Something darker.
More unsettling.
It gnawed at the edges of my thoughts.
Because a part of me—no matter how much I hated to admit it—had grown accustomed to the push and pull between us. His attempts to dominate me, to break me, had ignited something within me—a fire I hadn’t known was there.
It was a dangerous game, one I never asked to play, but I had played it all the same and. . .I kind of liked it.
If I killed him, that would all disappear.
The adrenaline.
The challenge.
The twisted connection.
However, perverse it was, it would be gone, if I killed him.
Would I miss it?
The question chilled me to the bone, but I couldn’t dismiss it.
I didn’t want to admit that any part of me could desire his presence, could need it even. But the truth was. . .without him, I would be alone, truly alone, in a way that was more terrifying than anything he had done to me.
What did that say about me?
Had I already lost myself in his twisted game, already succumbed to the very thing I’d been fighting against?
Or was it just the natural human fear of isolation?
Of being completely and utterly alone in the world?
What should I do?