23
EMERSYN
I stalked down the path back toward home and—Pete.
Fuck. Is it wrong to say I’d forgotten about him?
When I reached him, he was pale and slumped against the tree. I didn’t bother rousing him, but pulled my gun out and shot him dead as I passed by.
I was done. The adrenaline and satisfaction slowly bled away, and with it the rise I got from tormenting them.
I barely made it a few hundred yards before the come down of everything caused my chest to seize.
I dropped to my knees as all my strength drained from me.
My body hurt. My ears rang and I had a terrible case of vertigo.
I didn’t regret killing them, but my body obviously was not used to the violence.
I yanked my gloves off. I needed to feel the dirt under my fingertips.
I dug my hands into the path and heaved in great gulps of air, until I felt the pressure in my chest ease.
I bared my teeth in satisfaction and breathed through the release of adrenaline, fear and anxiety that had ravaged my body for the last twenty-four hours.
It was over. They’d never be able to touch me again.
I stumbled to my feet and leaned my forehead against the nearest tree to ground myself further. I breathed in the earthy scent of bark, and listened to the birds sing. The forest had returned to normal—and why shouldn’t it? Death was an everyday thing here after all.
I opened my eyes to see the section of trail I was on happened to be cut through a deadfall.
Trees fell like tumbled sticks down the slope on either side all in various stages of decay.
But, where they had died, new life grew.
Small critters ran amidst the logs and life was building again.
The thought made me feel better—the world didn’t stop turning.
Life continued, and so would I.
Sacha was getting dinner ready when I stepped through the door of the cabin.
I paused at the threshold, struck by how Sacha could focus on something so mundane.
Everything felt different—like something in me had shifted.
I wasn’t sure if it was shock, or maybe it was just the cost of becoming a murderer.
I frowned at the hearth across the room and willed my perspective to shift back.
When it didn’t, I turned and shut the door with a sigh.
I knew this was going to happen—the inevitable crossing of a line I couldn’t get back—but the reality of it was jarring.
“Emersyn,” Sacha’s voice broke my trance.
I realized I’d been standing with my hand on the door handle for probably an odd length of time. I turned and took a few shuffled steps toward my hallway. I avoided Sacha’s eyes, suddenly exhausted. I just wanted to be alone—maybe forever—but, I knew Sacha wouldn’t allow that.
“I’ll go get cleaned up,” I muttered, not even sure if what I said was intelligible.
“Dinner will be ready in ten minutes,” Sacha replied.
After a shower and clean clothes, I felt better, and when I emerged, Sacha already had the plates on the table.
He poured a clear liquid into two small glasses.
I sat down in my seat and he carried them over and took his place.
He pushed one toward me and I smelled vodka.
Sacha never drank that I could tell, and I didn’t even know we had alcohol in the cabin, so I knew this was important.
“Years from now, you might not remember things exactly the way they happened. But, you will remember the way you survived,” Sacha said. “You did what was necessary today, and we always toast to our wins.”
He held up his small glass and I gently knocked mine against his.
He muttered a toast in Russian and threw back the shot.
I steeled myself and did the same. I coughed.
The vodka burned going down my throat. Through my watering eyes, I could have sworn I saw Sacha smirk but once my vision cleared he was focused on his food.
The warmth lingered and as it settled in my stomach, along with the food, it slowly brought me back to the present.
The fire crackled in the hearth, Fang begged for scraps from his usual respectable distance away and it was like any other dinner.
After we were finished, Sacha set down his utensils. I felt his eyes and looked up.
“In the morning, I’ll show you how to clean the scene.” I nodded and gathered the dishes to take to the river. When I went to grab his plate, he latched onto my wrist.
“And after that, we’re going to work through the rest of it. Together.”
Shame assaulted me and I tugged my wrist away, but Sacha growled low in his throat until I met his eyes again.
“The people in this world will break you—over and over again—” He searched my face, his voice low and urgent. “The point is not to come out without scars—you just sure as hell better make them pay for every single one they leave behind.”
I nodded. I didn’t trust my voice, but Sacha’s words resonated deeply. I took the dishes down to the river and after I washed them, I waded into the shallows. The shame crept in again—of being raped, of killing three people—
What had I become?
I wasn’t sure yet, but I did know that whatever was left of my innocence had been stripped from me, and the thought made me sad, and incredibly angry.
While the shame felt heavy, I still didn’t regret anything.
If anything, I latched onto the necessity of it all.
There were still people out there who’d hurt me and my family. I still had work to do.
I swayed as the water lapped against my thighs, and breathed in the shadows as they stretched long across the shore. I was surprised to find the dark didn’t frighten me nearly as viscerally as it did before. I took that as a sign that it was time to let my own demons come out to play.
It was time to see exactly what I could become when I didn’t let fear dictate my actions. It was time to sharpen whatever soft edges I still retained. Because, survival wasn’t for the weak, and I’d just learned exactly how dangerous I could become.