Chapter 20
Twenty
“They call it justice when it’s sanctioned. Vengeance when it’s personal. I call it necessary.”–Cyan MacBrady.
Hearing from Johnny that Aria wasn’t working overtime, as she claimed, I figured she was being defiant again, riding the bus just to push back at me.
I should’ve shut her rebellion down immediately, but the weak part of me won.
She wanted space, and I wanted to give it to her.
That weakness almost got her killed. What would’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten here in time?
My woman, pinned down, helpless, enduring something unspeakable.
Just like Ma. The sight of the bastard lying face down, his brains spilling across the pavement, does nothing to cool my rage.
If anything, it burns hotter, searing through my veins like molten steel.
My hand trembles around the gun. I close my eyes for a beat.
It’s a mistake. The memories hit like a hammer–Ma being dragged away, terrified.
Her choking sounds. Then her vacant eyes stare up at me from a pool of blood. In an instant, the image shifts.
It’s Aria. Her eyes were vacant. Her body broken.
A roar detonates inside me. I step closer to the dead fucker who laid hands on what’s mine and fire again…
and again… and again. Each shot punches into his skull with brutal finality, but it still isn’t enough.
The images keep flooding my mind like a disease I’ll never escape.
His hands were on her. His mouth was near hers.
He didn’t even hear me coming. One clean shot to the skull.
Perfect execution. Still not enough. The thought of Aria suffering Ma’s fate…
of losing her the way I lost my mother… something inside me snaps.
I fire until the chamber clicks empty. Click.
Click. Click. Still not enough. I kick the bastard.
Then I stomp. Bones crunch beneath my boot.
Red splatters across my shoes, staining the leg of my suit, but I don’t give a fuck.
I wish I could drag him back from Hades just to kill him all over again.
I see the slap replaying—the sharp crack of his palm against her face.
My gut twists violently. I grind my boot into his hand, crushing the fingers that dared touch her skin.
His other hand, the one reaching under her skirt, gets the same treatment. I almost lost her.
“C…Cyan…Capo.” Johnny’s shouts cut through the thick, blinding haze of my rage. Slowly, I lift my head, tearing my gaze from the corpse to my brothers standing a few feet away.
Collin points to the ground, deadpan. “Just so you know… he’s dead.”
Johnny’s finger jerks toward the wall. “C.”
Aria. She’s crumpled against the bricks; arms wrapped so tightly around herself she’s folding in on her own body. Trembling. Shaking. Her hands are fists pressed against her ribs, like she’s trying to hold herself together by sheer will. A sharp ache lances through my chest.
“Clean this up,” I order.
Collin grins, already drawing his knife. “With pleasure.”
Johnny gives him a pointed look, shaking his head before turning back to me. “C. You need to get her out of here.” I don’t move.
My control is shot to hell, fraying at every edge.
I breathe in deeply, trying to gain control over the madness, the horror, and the unbearable what-ifs.
Aria looks up, and our eyes lock. Crimson dots freckle her cheeks, her throat, her hair—speckles of the life I just ended.
She’s the unintended canvas of my violent masterpiece.
What the fuck is she doing in this part of town?
This is the opposite direction from her aunt’s house.
Was she leaving me, planning to take her light with her?
The thought claws at the dark and ugly inside me. My grip on the gun tightens.
Her gaze shifts to the body at my feet. The reality hits her in waves. “Cyan–you… killed him…” Aria repeats, the words unraveling into a frantic loop. “You killed him… you killed him…”
Her voice is small and broken. Clinging to words as if they’re the last solid thing left in her world.
I reach for her. She shrieks and recoils, pressing herself flat against the wall like she’s trying to disappear into it.
Her wild eyes cut to Johnny. Then she moves, fast, choosing him, not me.
She barrels into Johnny’s arms. He hesitates at first glance my way as my Dove clings to him like he’s the only steady thing in the alley.
Jealousy flares hot and bright in my gut.
But I choke it down. She needs to get out of this death-soaked alley before she breaks apart.
My voice comes out cold, razor-sharp. “Take Aria to the car.”
Johnny nods and guides her away. Aria clings to him, seeking comfort that should be mine. She ran away from me tonight. I’ll make damn sure she never runs again. A fresh wave of fury burns under my skin. I bury it deep. Lock it down and watch until she disappears from sight.
Collin exhales a long, amused breath. “Did you really have to blow his brains out right in front of her?”
I whip my head toward him, rage still screaming through my blood. “Since when you give a fuck about how I handle shit?”
Collin shrugs, watching me with that unnerving glint in his eyes—the one that says he’s two seconds from enjoying something he shouldn’t. “Just making an observation, C. You stabbed a man the first time you met the girl. Now you’ve gone and annihilated some loser right in front of her.”
My fists clench until my knuckles crack. “What the fuck was I supposed to do? Ask him nicely to stop?” I can’t even force the words sexual assault out of my throat.
Collin tilts his head, thoughtful in that twisted way only he can manage. “No. But if you weren’t so fucking impulsive, I could’ve tested my razor-blade theory sooner.” There it is Collin’s bug. His itch to experiment. His fascination with pain.
My irritation spikes. “Collin, are you fucking crazy?”
He smirks. “Maybe. Who knows? But even I know you don’t do that in front of a girl you want to fuck.” Before I can lunge at him—
“Cyan, come quick!” Johnny’s voice slices through the alley.
Holstering my gun, I tear my gaze from Collin.
“Find out who he is,” I bark, already moving.
I jog toward the car. Johnny stands outside it.
I noticed the smear of blood on Johnny’s shirt from when she clung to him.
He points at the open door, eyes dark with concern.
Inside, Aria looks like a ghost. Except for the tremors ravaging her body.
I strip off my blood-smeared shoes; if I sit beside her like this, she’ll break apart.
Sliding in next to her, I take her in. She’s gasping, small animal-like sounds tearing out of her throat.
Fingers claw at her neck like she’s trying to rip something out.
Her eyes are wide, unfocused, pupils blown.
“Cyan…I…I can’t… I can’t breathe.” My rage snarls up my spine like a living thing. I slam a lid on it. My madness doesn’t belong anywhere near her.
“You’re safe,” I murmur, forcing steel to soften. I shift slowly toward her; any sudden move will snap her mind in half. “Focus on my voice, Dove.”
She shakes her head hard, tears spilling, streaking down her face.
“No, no, you don’t understand–he almost–” She doesn’t finish.
She doesn’t have to. I know… I fucking know, and my hands twitch, aching to destroy the universe for letting it happen.
I force them open. One finger at a time. Not now. Not in front of her.
“Aria,” I whisper, “you’re having a panic attack.”
Her breathing fractures too fast, shock detonating.
Gently—so fucking gently, I pull her toward me.
She tries to recoil, but I don’t let her.
Not this time. “Lass, it’s okay. I’m here.
” I keep my tone low and steady. “You’re alright.
There’s no need to panic. Just breathe with me, love, slow, deep breaths. ”
She’s shaking so badly it’s like her bones are vibrating. “Aria, rein it in,” I whisper. “Eyes on me.”
Her curls are plastered to her cheeks, damp with tears and sweat. I brush them back, tucking them behind her ear. “Breathe with me, Aria. In and out. I know you can do this.”
But nothing gets through. Her panic spikes, hitting a dangerous edge. Her breath collapses into short, broken gasps as her hand flies to her throat, her nails scratching. “Aria,” I catch her wrists before she tears skin. “Stop–”
She sobs, shaking. “I can’t do this! I can’t—” She’s slipping, her mind spiraling into that place where shock becomes a mental freefall. Where she becomes unreachable, something inside me breaks clean in half.
“Johnny. Get Collin. Now.”
Fuck, I can’t stand it. Watching her spiral like this, her pain slices through me like a blade to the gut. I can handle blowing a man’s brains out. I can handle beating one to a bloody pulp. But this? Guts me.
Collin arrives fast. One look at Aria, and his entire demeanor is clinical. He’s eerily calm as he slips a small syringe from his jacket. “No!” Aria sobs, weakly taking hold of my shirt. “Please! I can handle it! I–I just need to breathe!”
“Collin.” My teeth grind, fury and helplessness scraping together. “There has to be another way.”
I look at Aria—my Dove, her chest heaving, eyes frantic and glazed.
One hand raked at her throat. “No…” she gasps, trembling.
“Cyan, please don’t…” Her hand finds my shirt, gripping like I’m the only thing anchoring her to the world and, fuck, she’s right.
I’m the only thing keeping her tethered.
I pull her closer, turning her so her back shields her from Collin.
She collapses against me, trembling violently.
“We’re going to help you.” My lips brush her temple. “I swear. You’re safe.”
She sags, exhausted, no longer resisting because she trusts me. A trust I’m about to break. Fuck. I give Collin a tiny nod; he moves silently. The needle pierces her arm before she registers it.
Her head jerks up. Her eyes fly wide, betrayal flooding them so fast it nearly kills me.
“Cyan…” Her lips form my name. For a split second, her voice isn’t hers—it’s Ma’s. Before her doe-brown eyes remind me who she is.
The drug hits quickly; her breathing slows, and her lashes flutter.
She tries, mercy me; she tries; to fight the darkness closing in.
Her gaze finds mine one last time and I see the silent question, the accusation and plea.
I hold her tighter as her body softens and goes completely still.
My jaw locks as I inhale. I just drugged the woman I swore to protect, for the first time tonight…
I don’t know if I made the right fucking choice.
She’ll hate me even more for this. I’ll take that hate. I’ll take anything—just so she sane.