Chapter 29 Oren #2
He was decently young. His olive-toned skin was nearly flawless, save for the scar that ran from his left temple, across his cheek, coming to a stop beside his nose.
Catching the overhead light with a sheen, the gel maintaining his dark, curled locks became apparent.
His facial hair was well-kept, trimmed like he’d visited a barber before our agreed drop date.
And somehow, it wasn’t any of those attributes that unsettled me. It was his near-yellow gaze that threatened to penetrate the minds of anyone he locked eyes with.
Who the fuck was this man?
“Ah, Andrew Valens. The man of the hour,” he chided, a deep laugh rolling from his chest. “You’re late.”
His vocal inflection contained a specific phonetic quality that I knew instantly. He was—
A gun left a holster, and I didn’t even have to turn to know who it was. “He’s from fucking Serbia, Oren.” Thorne spat, almost as if he had a personal vendetta with the man standing before us. “What the fuck have you been planning, Andrew?”
“Planning? This has been running smoothly since before you were instated as commander. You’ve simply played your role well enough to avoid this direct interaction with the man responsible for your men’s deaths.
Deaths that aided in the transaction of military-grade weapons.
How else do you think we pay for the equipment and my liquor cabinet? ”
“You’ve been funding the fucking Serbian Cartel…” Thorne’s voice faded, horrified shock clinging to every syllable. “This whole fucking time you’ve been aiding—”
“Quite the reunion, Thorne Graves.” The unnamed man smiled maliciously, his analytical glare sweeping over the man who still held my heart. “I still bask in the sound of your men’s screams as my right hand beheaded them. An unmatched symphony, truly.”
I curled my fingers, stopping myself from lashing out at the man responsible for so much of Thorne’s pain and suffering.
This man was him—the man who’d killed his previous squad members with no remorse, and now worked for the Cartel.
My jaw feathered as I jerked my gun toward Matt and Liam.
“We’re not here to reflect on old shit. We’re here to make sure this deal runs smoothly and quickly. ”
“Spoken like an obedient pup,” their leader stated, his growing grin igniting my wrath. “Seems your father raised you well, Oren Valens.”
My father chuckled, the coward still hiding behind us. “At least someone didn’t have to fuck it out of him. A couple of beatings solidified him, almost.”
I ignored the General’s growing laughter, a bond of mutual hatred forming for both of these men. I couldn’t let their banter deter us from what we’d practiced numerous times. It would all go according to plan, with no mistakes in sight.
“How lovely. Though I think he would have been much better off if you’d explored the former. Seems the boy could use—”
The gunshot sounded before I had time to process it.
Watching time unravel by milliseconds, the bullet found its home in the man’s head, blood and brain matter splattering across the face of one of the ten men who stood behind him.
His body swayed, eyes rolling back before he collapsed lifelessly to the ground, all eyes shifting to the one responsible for pulling the trigger.
Thorne.
And every preconceived plan went out the fucking door as chaos ensued, growing worse with each passing second. Screaming from behind ushered me to glance at my father, who was red in the face, spit flying from his mouth as he pointed toward the soldiers.
There wasn’t anything I could do. I turned to Matt, hoping to receive any form of guidance from him, but he was equally as stunned, except for the grin coating his face.
Two more gunshots pulled me from the trance I’d lost myself in, watching as the men we’d come to meet with dropped like flies. And the one responsible? The one continuing to slaughter them as if he were somehow impenetrable?
Was Thorne.
His movements were unmatched, the speed and precision with which he worked shedding light on why my father had selected him as a commander.
Sliding across the ground as one of the soldiers fired, he freed his utility knife from his thigh.
Pushing himself up, he ran it across one of the men’s throats before pivoting and driving it into the head of another.
In seconds, only six remained.
Charging forward, he found his next victim, freeing a sharpened blade from his utility belt. With four precise stabs, he drove it into the man’s side, shoving him off and to the ground as he did the exact same to the one who remained unmoved regardless of his approach.
Four.
From the side, a blur of black stole my attention as Liam raised his gun, pulling the trigger. It met with deadly precision, taking down another member of the former soldiers my father had planned to kill us with.
Matt followed after, unloading another round to aid Thorne, not that he needed it. It was a best friend trying to prove himself once again, a redemption that wouldn’t be heard or noticed due to Thorne’s rage.
And I?
I stared like a fucking dumbass, unsure what to do without a plan.
Maybe… Maybe Thorne had been right the first time to keep me at base.
I wasn’t prepared for this. I never had been, because the sight of the blood…
the sight of men dropping had me fighting back tears.
Nausea rolled in my stomach, brewing hot at the carnage on display.
Turning to focus on the only man who comforted me in moments of collapse, I watched as Thorne flipped his selected knife in his hand, driving it forcefully into one of the last-standing males’ throats.
With a deep inhale, his shoulders rose before falling to settle in a near-chilling manner, and he spun on his heel to face me.
Crimson stained his face, painting him in all the lives he’d taken. The vibrant hue his irises once contained was gone, nothing but a masked killer standing before me, one who’d forgotten about the last—
Raising his pistol without so much as batting an eye, he fired off a round to the right, and I turned just in time to watch the bullet tear through the soldier’s forehead.
They were dead. All of them were dead.
But that wasn’t what drew my attention.
It was the click of a safety being released as I twisted to observe my father… my father raising a gun toward Thorne.
He was going to kill him for unleashing his fury on his deal, his plan… his entire life. He would not let this man walk free, and I couldn’t shout or warn him about his impending demise. My father was an excellent shot, and I’d witnessed him practice it more than once.
Thorne would not survive.
Blinking back salt water, it was instinct that took over, my legs pumping before I realized I was moving. There was no time to tell him anything. No time to say everything in my mind, but I hoped… I hoped he would be happy.
“Th—”
The gunshot echoed, piercing me with a flash of pain so hot I instantly hit the ground.
There was nothing but the sensation of ringing in my ears, adrenaline replacing the agony I’d originally experienced.
I was going into shock, my lungs refusing to catch the air I needed, and yet, the only thing on my mind was him.
Had I saved him? Was I the only one hit? Was… Was he okay?
Attempting to lift my hand, I cried, the sound warbled. Grunting, I somehow managed to flip onto my back, crimson staining my side. Looking down, the panic and pain returned as I stared at my stomach.
The bullet had hit, and there was so much blood…my blood as it coated my hands and floor.
“OREN!” The gut-wrenching scream came from the man I never thought I’d hear say my name again, the two syllables fracturing as they left his lips.
His footfalls reverberated on the ground beneath me, and before I knew it, he was by my side.
Frantically, his hands pressed against my body, hunting for the wound my life force spilled from.
His chest rose and fell with shuddered breaths as he shook his head, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks.
“No… No, no, no. What the hell were you thinking?!”
“Great. A bullet wasted.” General Valens lifted the gun, cocking it toward Thorne. “That fucker was meant for you.”
Plumes of wrath tumbled from Thorne, his hand trembling as he lifted his chin to look at my father. Guilt consumed his features, but the loathing overrode it, his eyes darkening as he reacted in kind.
One second, both of his hands were on me. The next, only one, and another gunshot filled the space alongside the smell of ceasing corruption.
My father stumbled back, reaching up toward his throat.
Our shared lineage coated his hands, his eyes widening as he brought them into his line of sight—painted with the mark of his finality.
Tripping over his own feet, his back greeted the wall, and he slid down it, attempting to speak but only able to offer up gargled and broken words.
Holstering his gun beside me, Thorne spoke with a coldness I’d never heard before. “Choke on your own blood, bitch.”
General Valens gaped like a fish, his eyes refusing to dampen. He was refusing his death, but there was nothing left for him to cling to in this life. As his irises began to fade, a smile tore across my face because the result had ended the same.
The plan… The plan hadn’t been wasted, and Thorne was safe. My friends were safe, and they would never live under his tyranny again. He wouldn’t be painted as a hero, because he’d died in the crossfire of a deal gone wrong. A deal they could pin back to him, tainting his name forever.
Coughing, red splattered across my chest, my breathing heightening as it became increasingly more difficult to gather air.
“Oren…” Thorne practically whispered, denial detectable in his timbre. “Hey… Look at me. You can’t die, okay? I’m going to get you back home.”
Even the smallest shake of my head was too much, the corners of my lips twitching as I tried to remain happy for him. “Ah… At least I have… have three holes now,” I joked, the laugh that followed only ushering in another wave of pain.
“Leave it to you to continue cracking jokes…” Thorne chuckled softly, but it was broken. “And for that joke, what I’m about to do to you is going to hurt like a bitch, but we need to slow your blood flow. Okay?”
Before even giving me a chance to respond, he unzipped his vest, freeing the shirt he wore underneath. With one quick tear, he pulled a lengthy strand of fabric away, rolling it around his middle and forefinger with a pace that spoke of familiarity. Then he drove his fingers into the gaping wound.
I screamed, my back arching from the ground as the tears I’d tried to hold back flowed freely. “F-Fuck!” A desperate whimper clawed its way from my throat, the agony of what he’d done lingering.
“I know, baby. I know.” Sliding his arm under my head, his other one shifted to my knees. “Oren, look at me. I need you to look at me. Keep talking. Make as many stupid fucking jokes as you want, but don’t close your fucking eyes.”
Raw and unfiltered desperation. That’s all I could hear. His fear of being left… His fear of being abandoned.
A bitter sob left me, one from the lingering ache from the wound, and two because I knew this was it. There was no way I was surviving, and the look on Thorne’s face confirmed it. A miracle. It would take a miracle to save me.
“N-No more jokes… I-I need… need to say s-sorry.” Another wail, longer this time, as the metallic taste of my life force coated my tongue. “I’m sorry,” I cried. “I-I’m sorry.”
“Stop…” Thorne pleaded, lifting me into his arms. “You do not need to apologize to me, Oren. If anything, I should be the one apologizing. God, I’m so fucking sorry.
I brushed you off. I-I ignored you. I fucking hurt you.
And now…” Swallowing, he shook his head with apparent refusal to finish what we both already knew.
“Matt! Call fucking emergency med right now! Tell them we are headed back and need a bay ready and medics on the roof waiting for our arrival!”
Matt gave a grim nod, the unspoken truth lingering in his gaze. “Got it.”
Another cough expelled from my chest, my eyes fluttering shut from the waves of increasing pain. “N-No… My fault. I-I listened… listened to them. N-Not you and… and I’m sorry.”
We were moving, my body bouncing against his. His throat bobbed as he struggled to let my words settle, and as he looked down at me, the utter devastation coating his features became far more deadly than a bullet ever could be.
“P-Please… D-Don’t leave me,” he whimpered, his bottom lip quivering.
“I can’t… Fuck, Oren… I can’t do this without you.
I’ll have no light. N-No fucking purpose if you leave me…
I’ve barely been granted time with you in this life.
I’ve barely been able to love you. God, I love you.
Oren, I fucking love you, and without you I am nothing… ”
“I-I… love—” A bitter whimper. “F-Fuck, I-I’m scared.”
“There’s no need to be scared, dove…” he sobbed, ushering me onto the helicopter, the drum of the propellers threatening to lull me further.
“I’m right here, and I’m not leaving. I’m never fucking leaving you again.
N-Never again… Not when we still have so much to do.
I need you to draw for me, to paint for me…
I need to dance with you in a field of daisies…
I want to buy a home with you, to start our lives together outside of this place…
We can get a dog, or a cat, fuck whatever you want…
Please… Oren… Just d-don’t—d-dont fucking leave me… ”
“I-I don’t—never leave you,” I said through clenched teeth. The pain was subsiding, but the ache in my chest didn’t leave. “I don’t… don’t want to die.”
“You’re not going to…” Lifting a hand, he brushed my hair from my forehead. With a simple shift, he leaned down, planting a kiss to my crown, his shoulders shaking. “I-I can’t lose you… Because if you die, my soul… M-My fucking soul will go with you…”
“T-Then we can meet… meet again on t-the other side… because… because you’re m-my darling. M-My everything,” I whispered, a deep-rooted fatigue settling into my bones.
A gut-wrenching sob wracked his body, his face burying into my neck as he cradled me against him. “P-Please… God… Please… I can’t O-Oren. I c-can’t live without you. I c-can’t… I can’t… I can’t…”
“I-I love… love y-you.” I mustered all of my remaining strength to tell him one final time how much I did. How much he’d saved my soul in the short span of time I knew him. He was the moon to my sun, and I hoped he’d see me with every sunrise and sunset as a reminder of my devotion to him.
With the finality of my words, that strength vanished, and my eyes closed… letting myself drift at least one more time safely in the arms of the person I loved.