12. Chapter 10
Zoe
I’m heading home in a taxi, and I’m angrier than I’ve ever been. Well, maybe it has happened a few times before, but that’s beside the point.
To be exact, I’m taking a taxi home by myself.
After my exchange of messages with Eli, Damien’s phone started vibrating. And it didn’t stop until he got up from the table, apologizing, to answer it.
Deep down, I felt this was the turning point where everything would fall apart. For a change, I was the center of someone’s attention, and it felt nice. Really nice.
With a gloomy expression, Damien returned to the table. Before he could say what was wrong, I could already see it in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, but this time I have to cut our date short.”
“Oh.”
“Unfortunately, it’s a matter of work responsibilities I can’t really postpone. But please know that I truly regret this.”
“I understand. Sometimes work gets in the way.”
Moments later, we were already leaving the restaurant. The taxi Damien had ordered for me was waiting outside. He refused to budge, insisting it wasn’t safe and wouldn’t listen to my protests or assurances that I could manage alone.
This gesture warmed my heart.
“I’m sorry again. I’ll make it up to you, Lily. Promise, I will,” he said. We stopped by the taxi.
I gave him a smile, yet it didn’t reach my eyes. It was forced—and I’d had plenty of those.
Damien peered at me. He brushed a stray strand of hair from my forehead, and the whisper of his touch sent a shiver down my spine as his voice, barely audible, asked, “I’d really like to kiss you goodnight right now. Can I?”
Eli’s words returned to me; lost lambs finding their way home. Fuck. I shouldn’t care about them. I shouldn’t even consider them at all. We have nothing in common. We mean nothing to each other.
Then why did those words give you goosebumps?
I pushed the thoughts of Eli out of my head.
“See for yourself.”
Damien’s lips met mine, warm and soft. They tasted of mint, even after dinner. It was a slow kiss, full of promise. The only thing I was unaware of was the nature of that promise.
And I kissed him back. Matching his rhythm. It was a stark contrast to kissing Eli. Eli craved my lips, but Damien was content to wait. Eli made the universe spin and then vanish, whereas Damien…
Well, he didn’t give me an earthquake.
But that didn’t mean anything yet. The first time isn’t always the most passionate. Sometimes tenderness is what a woman needs.
Damien pulled away from me before I could slip my tongue between his lips and test my theories. Disappointment crept into my heart like an unwelcome guest. I covered it with another fake smile.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.” After those words, I slipped into the taxi and he closed the door after me.
So here I am. Pissed off, disappointed, and confused, I’m heading home alone. And I have no intention of thinking about any of this anymore. Even though the need to argue with Eli right now, to yell at him, is burning inside me like a raging fire. How dare he do this to me again?
Does he have some damn radar inside him that tells him when he should interrupt my romantic encounter with a man?
I’m also pretty sure that, given his reputation as a playboy, he’s a hypocrite in all this.
I bet he was fooling around with some girl only half an hour before he flooded me with messages.
I was supposed to stop thinking about it.
Crossing the threshold of my apartment, I slam the door behind and shut out thoughts of those two men.
There’s something else important I need to do. I’ve been waiting for this for the last forty-eight hours. It’s been in the back of my mind for most of the evening.
I slip off the dress that didn’t bring me any luck tonight and put on leggings and a T-shirt. The chair creaks as I sit down at the desk. My fingers tap impatiently as I wait for the computer to boot up.
Jeremiah…
He haunts my dreams for a reason. He’s been on my mind a lot more often these past few days. Almost obsessively. But I found the son of a bitch.
It turns out Jeremiah Wilcox ended up in state prison. His new home is San Quentin. Honestly, I don’t even care about his record. It doesn’t matter what he did. He’s where he belongs.
“Don’t touch me,” I hiss through clenched teeth at Jeremiah. The memory surfaces, vivid and immediate.
He narrows his eyes but pulls his hand away from me.
Thank God. “You think you’re better than us?
Think you’re worth more than us? You’re wrong.
You’re no better than trash.” With each passing second, the dangerous spark in his eyes intensifies.
“You eat, you sleep, you shit, and you bleed just like us.”
The burning on my cheek is the first thing I notice. Jeremiah’s open-handed slap shouldn’t surprise me, and yet… My head jerks to the side from the force of the blow.
Tears well up, and I find it hard to hold them back. Even though I’m trying! He shouldn’t see them.
The next thing I notice is something warm running over my lips. With the tip of my tongue, I taste it and only then register the metallic taste of blood.
Jeremiah is right. I bleed like everyone else.
I shake my head to push that moment out of my mind.
Two days ago, under the influence of tequila—which I’ll never touch again in my life—I decided to remind my dear Jeremiah of me.
Most places on the dark web are scams, but this place is similar to an onion. Peel away layer after layer to get to the heart of it. Know where to look and how to communicate. No sane person is going to respond to an ad that says, “Hey, I want to beat up a guy.”
To find it, you have to know where and how to look.
Ash used to joke that I’m a computer genius. That’s why the dark web holds no secrets for me. The hours I spend in front of the screen are to me what everyday life is to others. It’s my everything.
I log into the network, put up another layer of defenses, and throw the tracking bots off my trail. When I’m sure I’m completely alone, I enter the room where I met the guy with the nickname Nefix. He’s already here, waiting for me.
I speak first.
ZoeI’m here
NefixI see
ZoeDid you get in?
NefixNever doubt me. Of course, I got in.
ZoeAnd?
NefixYou’ll get a package in a moment. Then you have 15 minutes to fund my account with bitcoins, as we agreed.
You know that feeling when you know for sure that something is about to happen? Something terrible that will reshape the course of your life?
This is one of those moments.
And I sense it with my whole being. It takes over every atom of my body.
I just know…
A package? What is he talking about? I see the dots showing that he’s typing. They appear and disappear. But no new message pops up on the screen. Instead, a photo appears. A second later, Nefix leaves the room, and I’m left alone.
My gaze is fixed on the photo.
Fuck! This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t the plan! I made it crystal clear what I expected from him!
The adult Jeremiah isn’t much different from the teenager he used to be. He’s more muscular and taller, but his eyes are just as dead as they were back then.
Dead. That’s the perfect word.
The photo shows Jeremiah’s body lying on the dirty floor. He’s in an orange prison jumpsuit with darker stains. It’s clear that it’s blood. His blood.
His left arm and leg are twisted at unnatural angles. Definitely broken. A bruised face also bears traces of blood. A thin trickle runs from the corner of his mouth onto the floor.
The eyes are open, staring at a single point, unmoving.
If that didn’t give me the obvious answer to what happened, the horizontal cut on his neck would be the clue. A river of blood flowed from that spot, now forming a pool around his body.
Dead. Jeremiah is dead!
I place my hands on the keyboard.
ZoeNefix! What have you done? You were supposed to beat him up. Not kill him!
Though I don’t see him in the room, the answer comes almost immediately.
NefixYou’re welcome.
I press my trembling hands to my mouth. My breath comes faster than it should; my heart is racing, my pulse pounding in my ears.
This wasn’t supposed to happen!
The image of my childhood tormentor is still before my eyes. This time, what I’d wished for him so many times has come true. I wished for a death so cruel that he would understand what he and his friends had done to me every single day.
Yet, was that indeed my wish? I think so, but I’m not ready for the remorse that’s hitting me like a giant tsunami. A man is dead because of me.
I wanted revenge; I set it in motion. I wanted to destroy Jeremiah just as I did Nathaniel. It wasn’t my intention to become the monster that they were.
The world around me is spinning. My head is foggy, and I keep seeing the same thing before my eyes. Dead eyes, a slit throat, blood…
And yet a small part of me whispers, He deserved it; don’t regret what happened.
This should terrify me, but…
The chair creaks as I jump up and rush straight to the bathroom. At the last moment, I fall to my knees. My body protests as I empty my stomach, vomiting. It’s hot and cold, and tears stream freely from my eyes.
What if the information becomes public? What if they find me? What have I done?
I killed a man!
And part of me doesn’t regret it at all.