Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Alexei
Iknow my words have hit their mark when she crumples onto the floor and crawls to the door. Fleeing from me without even being able to look at me as she goes. I smirk in satisfaction as I stand up from the bed, righting my pants and locking the door with a flick of my wrist.
I fold my arms as I look back at my bed and frown.
The sheets are thrown about like a mess and I can see the wet patch on the bed from here.
She used me, and that's fine because I was fucking using her.
She wouldn't say what I wanted her to. She came in here to kill me.
So she deserved every second of pain she got.
She wouldn't regret it for a second if she'd caused me any pain. The frown lines on my brow deepen. I don't care what she thinks of me. I don't care if I'm just a distraction. I just don't care. That's not what we're here for.
I feel something heavy in my chest, and I drop my arms as adrenaline floods through my blood.
I pace the room, frowning and scratching at my head like I can rip my own thoughts out into the open. I know what I feel is satisfaction but there's a layer of something else hiding just beneath it that I can't shake off me.
It was clear that his name held power over her. That it was the best way to destroy her. She'd made a mistake by letting herself have a weakness in his name. She should've trained better and prepared like I did. No one can use my brother's name against me.
She looked so devastated as she ran from here.
Which is… good. Because that was exactly my intention when I said it.
Something in my chest pangs at that thought.
That was the point... That's what I meant to do. She disrespected me, used me to come all over my fucking cock, and then backed out like a wimp. She deserved this.
My hand touches the pillow and comes away wet.
Fuck.
She was crying. I made her cry. I know I did. I saw it and I reveled in it as the uncontrollable tears welled in her eyes and she struggled to get out from underneath me.
I stumble backward and fall into the armchair, running a shocked hand over my mouth.
I meant to make her cry. So it's fine. That's what I intended to do. I wanted to hurt her. To harm her. To make her feel the worst of the grief that I have felt.
So I did.
But… I made her cry.
It's like that knife she pointed at me slices right through my chest.
Oh, God.
I run my hand through my hair. I wanted this. I wanted to see her hurt. But my pillow is wet now, because I hurt her. Because I wanted her. So I hurt her instead.
I bend over at the waist, sun catching my eye as I look outside to see morning has come.
Right now, the door looks like it's my worst enemy. But I can't shake the feeling that I've pushed a little too hard. Gone a little too far.
My grief is worse than hers, of course. She deserves everything she gets. She put herself in this position. Nobody forced her to sneak into my room. Nobody forced her to hold that knife to my throat. To beg me to fuck her.
I nod to myself.
This is her doing.
I stare at the door again, closing my eyes on a sigh.
Her pretty face as her eyes filled with tears. Every word I've ever wanted to say to her since the day we met rises to the surface.
"Fuck," I say. And I charge at the door.
My bare feet pound on the carpeted floor runner as I chase her down with purpose. To do what? Who knows. But I don't have to go far to find her. She's standing just by the top of the stairs, gripping the railing as her shaky legs buckle beneath her.
"Sage, wait," I say, huffing in my haste to chase her. She looks at me over her shoulder and the pain on her face nearly rips me in two. So much so that it's a struggle not to fall to my knees right then and there.
The feeling that I need to beg her for something, something I'm not sure I can name, pierces through the veil I'd been holding back.
Her emerald green eyes are red and puffy. Her cute button nose is red and raw. And it looks like she's been crying for hours, not the few minutes it's been since I kicked her out of my bedroom.
She turns and runs down the stairs. It takes me a second to compose myself enough to be able to follow her, yelling her name as I run down the stairs after her. She slips on the tiles in the foyer but still manages to grab the door and burst out the front of the house.
"What the hell are we yelling about at this hou-" Isla says, coming out onto the upper balcony with Freddie in close tow behind her. I don't have time to digest that.
"Sage!" I yell again, running out the front door.
She slips in her attempt to run away from me, falling to a heap in the middle of the gravel.
She looks so fragile like this. I must be the only person who's never seen her as the small, weak, girl that everyone else sees. But right now she looks it. She looks haunted. My grief may be bigger than hers, but her ghost chases her far closer than mine does.
She sobs in a heap, hands pressed over her eyes.
I approach slowly this time. Treating her like the wounded, broken animal that she is.
"Sage," I say, more softly as I come up behind her and put my hand on her shoulder.
"No!" she yells, jumping back from my touch like it electrifies her whole body. She turns to me with puffy eyes that are still leaking tears and a forceful pain that is both shocking and powerful.
She takes a deep breath and her nostrils flare as she looks at me through her eyebrows.
I only briefly notice that Freddie and Isla have followed us out the house and are curiously watching from the porch.
"This ends here," Sage says, her grief suddenly replaced by a potent rage that is solely directed at me. She makes a swipe at me with the knife that I didn't realize she still had. I manage to jump back with only seconds to spare but she isn't done.
She lashes out over and over and over. Screaming with rage as she does. Each time, I only miss her wrath by milliseconds. She's all over the place. Leaving herself wide open with every grief-driven lunge she pushes in my direction.
Her face thrashes savagely, hair splayed out and wild as she tries to slice me. Yet, I can't force myself to fight back.
I grab Sage's arms to subdue her. "Hey. Not here, alright?"
She screams, wiggling in my grasp, knife clutched tightly in her hand. My bare feet tear into cuts as I slip in the gravel, struggling to hold her at bay.
"What the fuck is going on out here?" Anton says, storming onto the porch next to Freddie and Isla, who have not made a single move to intervene or help. "You can't fight here, it's again-"
Freddie rolls a hand across Anton's middle to stop him. "Let them go."
Anton frowns but does as he says, folding his arms as he turns to watch us.
I'm distracted by that long enough that Sage gets the better of me. She wriggles out of my grip and pushes me away with all her might. Before I know it, she's back at it again, slamming the knife towards me, beating her fists against the hands that I put up to block her.
"Sage, stop. Let's just-"
She screams in response.
I've never seen her more wild or feral. While I thought I'd seen her outpouring of grief every time she's tried to kill me before, I know now that I've seen nothing.
This is her true grief right here. Raw. Painful.
Senseless as she lashes out at me without a care in the world for how much of herself she exposes as she does.
Tears stream down her face even as her emerald green eyes bore into me with a hatred and intensity I've only ever seen before in the mirror.
When she kicks out, I bat her leg away. I don't let her touch me, but I do nothing else to retaliate. I'm not even sure why I do it. But for some reason, the need to fight her, the want to attack her back, the rage that was driving me before, just isn't there in my heart.
"I'm not going to fight back," I tell her calmly, continuing to block her attacks.
"Fight back!" she screams, jumping away from me to hold out the knife.
"I won't," I say, strangely crushed by the tears still freely pouring down her face.
She runs at me, batting me and swiping quicker and harder than before. So much so that it becomes difficult to combat and I'm reminded of just how much she's learned in the time she's had to prepare for this moment.
She kicks me down and I willingly fall to my knees at her feet. The gravel stings but I let it. The cool air bites at my bare chest but I let that, too. I hold my hands up in surrender as I look up at her.
"I won't fight back this time. Not here," I tell her. She grits her teeth and holds the knife tighter in her hand, but she doesn't make a move towards me.
"If you really need to kill me, then do it," I say.
Her teeth bare in fury. She looks at me like this time she's really going to do it.
Like there is nothing left to stop her from finishing this.
It doesn't matter that Freddie, Anton and Isla are all here to witness it. It doesn't matter if it starts a war.
I drop my eyes to my feet.
Right now, she really wants me to die.
This time, I'm not sure that I mind. I'm tempted to just close my eyes and let it happen. To just let the pain take over and let this end. I'm not sure how much longer I can hold on to all this grief and rage. Part of me, too, just wants this to be over.
Maybe one of us can be at peace then.
"Alexei..." Isla says.
"Stay back," I say, warning Isla away without even looking at her.
Sage makes a step forward, the knife steady in her hand. She's not going to hesitate to end my life. She probably shouldn't.
"Do it," I say, looking up at her in acceptance. "If you must."
She steps right up to me and presses the knife against my neck. The cool blade nicks me, sending a drop of blood down my throat when I swallow. But I just keep staring up into her eyes and she keeps staring into mine.
I wait with held breath for her to make her swipe. To cut me. Not a single person moves or even breathes as we wait for Sage to make her decision.
Her eyes are wild and fleeting, following things that aren't there. She bites at her lip and suddenly she looks a million miles away, lost in a memory or a moment that I'm not a part of. Lost in thoughts that none of us get the privilege of foreseeing how they temper her.
I can see the moment her eyes change and her shoulders drop.
My heart sinks, and I'm not sure if I feel relief or disappointment.
Sage takes a tiny step back, averting her eyes from me. The knife falls gingerly from her hand, landing amongst the gravel. I feel the collective relief of everyone around us, but I still don't move. All I can do is watch her as she takes those small steps backward.
Even when she has the chance and the permission, she doesn't take the opportunity to kill me.
Her eyes return to the sky and she unleashes her sobs. Deep, guttural sobs that seem well overdue.
I stand, the gravel scraping at my knees. I'm tempted to go to her but decide it's better for both of us if I keep my distance.
I look at Isla, who is watching me back with pity and terror. I run my hand over my face and turn my back on Sage, too. Knowing the best thing I can do right now is walk away. Take Isla, take the car, and get the fuck out of here for a while.
I even take the first step to do so.
But that's as far as I get, because out of the corner of my eye I watch as that short stoutly woman dressed as a nurse comes running out of the house in a panic.
I remember seeing her before. It's only in this moment that I remember they had been hiding something that I intended to investigate.
I purse my lips when I realize that instead of looking into that I let myself get distracted by Sage. Again.
Anton's face goes pale as she rushes to push the woman back into the house. "You need to go back inside right now-"
She places both hands on his cheeks, a smile on her face and happy tears in her eyes. "Anton, your brother-"
Freddie's eyes widen, his face paling too as he grabs Isla in a similar fashion to usher her away as well. "Okay, maybe we should all just-"
But the nurse, oblivious, continues on as her joyful eyes stare up into Anton's terrified ones. "Dimitri. He's... he's awake."
Goosebumps tickle at my skin.
What, the actual, fuck?