Chapter 11
They always die too quickly.
Thankfully, that doesn’t always mean the fun’s over, at least not for me.
Over the last week, I’ve spent more time down in this room than I have in years, determined to find something that will bring my Doll home.
So far, all I’ve gotten is a bunch of nothing and a few more pinkies to add to my ever-growing collection.
With every dead end, both the literal and figurative kind, I feel myself slipping further.
The need to find Jade is riding me so damn hard that I’m constantly fighting the urge to leave.
Going out and tearing the city apart brick by brick until I find someone who knows something useful.
Someone always knows something. I just need to find them.
I wipe my favorite knife of the day on my jeans, watching the blood soak into the denim.
Blood is so unique. The way it reacts to certain materials and the colors it turns when mixed have always fascinated me.
I think that's part of why I’m so good at what I do for Vengeance.
It made me weird when I was growing up, but that never fazed me.
Honestly, I probably would have ended up behind bars without the guys to keep me in check, but Vengeance gave me a place to be myself.
Every weird little fucked-up part of me.
And Jade accepted all of that, reveled in it, and matched me.
The other half of my cold black soul.
I’m not sure when my newest friend died.
It could have been when I cut into his thigh, or it could have been when I punctured his lung with one of his ribs.
Who knows, and it doesn’t matter much, anyway.
He was a piece of shit, selling blow to kids too close to our territory, even after we warned him to stay away once before.
When Jake brought him in, I’d been almost excited to be the one who got to teach him a lesson and possibly get helpful information at the same time.
That excitement only grew when Jakey told me about the state his wife and kids were in when he went to pick up our friend to bring him in for ‘questioning.’ We might do a lot of shady-ass shit in Vengeance, but beating women and children makes you one of the worst kinds of scum in our book.
Scum that I’m happy to take care of, even if his lack of information has been less than pleasing.
“I think he’s past his expiration.”
Her voice fills the otherwise quiet space around me, and I don’t even flinch this time.
The first time I heard her, it shocked me enough that I’d fumbled my knife, earning myself a pretty little gash down my right hand.
A beautiful little scar to add to my collection that I couldn’t wait to show her.
It didn’t take more than a look around to realize my mind was playing tricks on me, though.
Fitting, if you ask me, since I’m usually the one with a few tricks up my sleeve.
Of course, I didn’t tell the guys. I might be a little crazy, but even I knew hearing her wasn’t normal.
They’re already tiptoeing around me, ready to intervene the moment I go off the deep end, or maybe the deeper end is more accurate.
I’m pretty sure I’ve already gone into territory they don’t want to deal with.
I ignore the voice and instead focus on the cleanup.
Kratos made it very clear that if I was going to go through so many potential leads, I was on my own for cleanup.
Vengeance might not be against handling the dirty work, but right now, he needs all hands on deck, dealing with anything that might be slipping while we focus on finding Jade.
He didn’t have men to spare for little shit like this.
It’s not terrible, though; at least the mess is always pretty.
Planting my foot on my friend's chest, I kick out hard enough to knock the chair back onto the floor and don’t even attempt to fight the smile that pulls at my lips when his skull cracks against the concrete.
It’s messier, but a lot easier to just roll the bastards to the tarps instead of trying to lift them; the dead weight ain’t no joke.
Cutting his flimsy restraints, I can’t help but shake my head.
These assholes are always so worried about talking that they never realize I almost always give them the means to escape.
Not from me, of course, but from the chair. It’s a shame that nobody has ever been smart enough to try it. I’d really love to chase someone down one of these days to spice it up a bit.
With him clear of the chair, it’s easy to roll him to the tarp, but first. I spread his hand out flat on the ground. I pull out my knife, bringing it down hard on his pinky just above the knuckle to get a clean cut for my collection.
Everyone has their trophies. Rick got his in sports, even if he hated them.
Spencer got his in just about every nerdy computer thing in high school, and Trent got his by being the golden boy at the police academy.
I just happened to get mine from assholes who I have the pleasure of sending to the afterlife.
“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone do that for cleanup before. Is there a story behind that, or is it just for a bit of fun?”
This time, I do flinch when I hear her. Usually, I imagine her every once in a while. The fact that it’s this soon after the first time can’t be good.
“Ouch, I’m gone for a little bit, and suddenly, you can’t even talk to me. Way to make a girl feel special.”
I squeeze my eyes closed against the sadness I can hear in her voice, even if it’s my own brain just making it up.
Fucking stupid brain.
It’s bad enough she’s gone. I can’t handle the idea of her being upset on top of it.
“Won’t you even look at me, Zan?” she asks, and hearing her nickname is the final straw.
I whip around to face the door where her voice keeps coming from.
I know it’s not real, but I need it to stop!
My knife flies from my hand before I can think it through, lashing out in one of the few ways I know how.
I don’t expect it to do a lick of good, but I do it anyway, needing to do something.
I stand there, waiting for the thump of my knife burying deep in the wood, but it never comes.
The brain is a dangerous and powerful tool.
I’m not sure I can handle it if this delusion takes a darker turn.
The thought of her hurt is bad enough, but to think I did it, even if it’s not real, is enough to make me want to puke.
My mind goes wild with the thought, and slowly, I peel my eyes open, afraid of what I might find.
It can’t be worse than what my imagination is currently picturing, though.
The second I do, I know I’ve completely and utterly lost it.
It’s the only explanation of how Jade would be standing in front of me. Holding my knife in her outstretched hand, from where she snatched it out of the air like the goddamn goddess she is.
Real or not, I can’t stop myself from drinking in every inch of her.
A fucking vision. She wears all black—a t-shirt, jeans, and plain black sneakers, her hair thrown up in an adorable lopsided bun.
None of it is anything I've ever seen her in before.
At least if I have to be bat-shit crazy, I get to be creative.
I look her over from head to toe before I force my eyes back to her face. My beautiful Doll. It's almost painful to look at her, knowing it’s not real. Knowing she’s somewhere I can’t follow, in who knows what condition. She’s tough as fuck, but I don’t want her to have to be, especially not alone.
“Damn it, Doll. Where are you?” I beg the universe, the gods, whoever will listen to help me as I turn my eyes to the floor, unable to keep looking at her.
“I’m right here, Zan,” she says, and I should have known better than to speak those words aloud. Of course, she’s going to answer. Why not make it more painful than it already is?
Torture is my specialty after all.
“No, stop!” I shout, gripping my hair at the roots. I shake my head, trying to clear away the hallucination and her damn voice. I just need to get through this cleanup and get some sleep. That’s probably why I’m seeing things now. I don’t know when I last slept.
I’ve been avoiding sleep because of the nightmares.
They always end in death and blood, but not the kind I’m okay with.
It’s always Jade's, and losing her isn’t something I can handle, even when asleep.
I wake in a panic and end up right back down here.
It’s the only thing I can do to help, the only thing I’m good at.
Clearly, my nightmares have found a way to haunt me even while I’m awake.
“Zan, what’s wrong?” she asks, and it takes everything in me not to look up at her when I hear the concern in her voice.
“You're not real. I can’t…” I cut myself off, unsure what I was even going to say or why I’m talking to a hallucination to begin with.
Fuck, I should have told the guys this before, when it was just the voices.
I keep my feet fixed in place, willing her to go away, but that doesn’t stop her from approaching me.
She walks toward me, and I swear I can smell her pomegranate scent and feel her warmth when she stops damn near under my nose.
Our height difference allows her to look up into my eyes even as I stare down at the ground.
“Zander.” My name is filled with so much emotion as she looks up at me. Her beautiful green eyes searching mine. God, I want to hold her again. I almost try, half convinced that it might shatter this delusion if I do, but I can’t make myself move.
Fake or not, I don’t want to be where she isn’t.
I watch as she looks back at me, unable to make myself look away, no matter how much I know I should.
The longer I look, the more I notice things I’d missed a moment ago.
Cuts and bruises litter her face and neck.
A bandage on her temple that looks fresh, dried blood still matted in her hair as if it had been cleaned in a hurry.
Things that I in no way should imagine her with.
My hand reaches out as if it has a mind of its own. Brushing against the bandage, I suck in a sharp breath as I feel it against my skin. She winces as I press down harder, and I pull back, running my fingers down her cheek, feeling her soft skin.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
My arms are around her the next second as I pull her against me, breathing in her scent, holding her tight, and dropping kisses to the top of her head.
“You're real? You're really here!” I shout, unable to keep my excitement under control as I pick her up and spin her around. I feel her laughter where she’s pressed snugly against my chest. A smile pulls at my lips for the first time since I woke in that hospital room without her. I’d been so scared I’d never hear that sound again, never hold her close.
“I already told you I was, you idiot,” she says with a laugh, and I laugh as well.
She did.
I stop spinning but refuse to let her go.
“How? What happened? Who—”
She cuts off my questions in the best possible way. Pressing her lips to mine, and just like that, none of it matters. All that matters is she’s here with me, exactly where she belongs.
“I’ll explain everything once we're all back at the house. Spencer said you needed to be picked up special,” she says with a smirk. One that I know from experience means something devilish has happened or will happen. Either way, I can’t bring myself to question it.
“Fuck, I missed you, Doll.” My voice cracks as my emotions scatter and jumble up. Going from one extreme to the next, far too fast for me to regulate properly.
Not that I regulate them well as it is.
She reaches up, pushing some of my messy hair out of my eyes with a soft smile. “I missed you, too.”
No sooner than the words are out of her mouth, I’m on her again.
I feel the smile on her lips as she kisses me back.
Honestly, she should just be happy I let her talk at all.
The need to have her close to me is more consuming than anything I’ve ever felt before.
Even as I pull her up into my arms, feeling her legs wrap around my waist, I know it’s not enough.
I crave more.
I need more.
If I could split my chest open and have her crawl inside of me, I would. I’d hand her my heart to walk around with so that she always had me near. It’s already hers. Whether in my chest or not, she owns it. Owns me.
Our kiss is sloppy as I press my lips to hers before moving to her cheek. I kiss everywhere and anywhere I can reach as I continue to try to convince myself she’s really here.
It’s going to take a minute before my shock wears off, but we have time, and so long as she’s willing, I intend to take full advantage of it. I pull back after a few minutes to stare into her beautiful green eyes as she looks up at me, and I can’t stop the words that tumble from my lips.
“I love you, Jade.”