Chapter 18 #2
Micah stiffens beside me. Adriana huffs softly. She doesn’t particularly like it when other people are mean to me. No, only she and Nolan get to do that.
Something inside me twists tight.
Alexei chuckles, swirling the liquor in his glass. “He sings. Very well, as you’ve just seen.”
“Sure,” Bravera drawls, smirking. “Pretty face, dirty veins, famous name. You really are collecting broken things these days, Alexei.”
That’s it.
It isn’t rage exactly—it’s everything that’s been festering under my skin for months.
The drugs, the guilt, the leash around my neck.
Adriana’s eyes burning through me like she’s got a claim on my body.
Nolan’s fake smiles. Alexei’s quiet commands to kill his enemies before an official deal is even fucking struck.
And this smug bastard is standing here like I’m nothing more than damaged goods.
Alexei’s gaze flicks between us, cold and amused. He tilts his head, voice low and deliberate. “Show him what happens when he doubts me, boy.”
My eyes dart to Nolan, and he just grins.
I’m a strung-out executioner with a pretty voice. That’s all I fucking am to these people.
Something inside me snaps.
The next seconds come in flashes—Bravera laughing, me lunging, the sharp crack of my shoulder slamming into his chest. His drink spills, glass shattering against the floor.
He staggers back with a curse, then swings.
I barely duck in time, and the blow grazes my jaw, igniting white heat down my neck.
What a wild feeling it is, being set loose on someone like a dog set to kill mode. My hands move on instinct. I grab his shirt and drive him back into the table. Papers and bottles scatter. He’s stronger than he looks, twisting, landing a hit to my ribs that knocks the air out of me.
Micah’s shouting my name now, but I can’t hear him over the blood roaring in my ears.
Bravera’s trying to shove me off, and it splinters whatever’s left of my control.
My fist connects with his jaw. Once. Twice.
There’s a dull, wet crack, and he drops to his knees, gasping.
My own breathing’s ragged, my vision swimming.
Someone’s yelling for me to finish it, but I can’t tell who anymore.
The last thing I remember is my hand closing around a piece of the broken glass. A flash of movement. Then—
Silence.
The air is thick and heavy. My chest heaves. My knuckles are slick and red. Bravera isn’t moving anymore. Alexei’s slow clap breaks through the ringing in my ears. He crouches beside the man, checks his pulse, then stands.
“Messy,” he says, adjusting his cufflinks. “But effective.” He turns his gaze on me, the faintest smile curving his lips. “Good fucking job, boy.” Then he looks to Nolan. “You were right, he’s an animal. Could be trained a little more, though.”
The words land like a brick to the chest. My stomach lurches. I want to scream, to throw something, to run—anything but stand there. But I can’t move. Micah’s wide-eyed beside me, breathing hard.
That’s when I notice the gun at Bravera’s hip that he never got to use. Without thinking, I snatch it, my fingers curling around cold metal. I spin it up, pointing it at Alexei and Nolan. “I’m keeping the damn thing,” I growl, voice raw.
For a heartbeat, silence. And then...they grin. It makes my gut fucking twist. Alexei tilts his head, clearly entertained. Nolan raises a brow, not saying a word. They let me keep it.
Adrenaline courses through my veins, my fingers flexing around the grip, pulse racing. I’m high, wired, and alive in a way that feels dangerous, and it’s...intoxicating.
That’s when Adriana slides up beside me. She leans close, nails grazing my arm. Her breath is warm against my neck. “Mmm,” she purrs, voice low, eyes glittering.
I snap my gaze away from her, but I feel the way she’s turned on by the gun, by me losing control. My hands shake slightly, not just from the high, but from knowing how close I am to something I shouldn’t let happen. I want to put a bullet in every one of their goddamn heads.
Micah’s beside me, shaking his head. “Dude...are you...are you okay?”
I nod, gun still in hand, chest pounding. I feel untouchable. I just killed that asshole.
Adriana steps forward. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Micah’s staring at me like he doesn’t recognize me. Maybe I don’t even recognize myself right now. How many kills until I lose myself? Until the darkness chips away at me so much that there is nothing left to salvage?
I follow Adriana out because I can’t think of anything else to do.
My heart’s pounding so hard it hurts. Her laugh echoes in my ears as she pulls me into a nearby bedroom.
The door shuts behind us, muffling the blaring music from the main area, though I can still feel the bass thumping through the walls.
She moves like the predator she is, and before I can think, I feel the sharp sting of a needle in my arm. My pulse spikes. My body jerks, crawling out of my own skin.
“Relax, baby,” she purrs, voice sickly sweet and teasing. “We’re just having fun. We’re calming you down after that.”
I try to steady myself, every nerve seizing. My fingers tighten around the gun tucked at my hip. The world sways, lights flicker, and the music keeps thudding.
Then the door bursts open, someone stumbling in, and I don’t hesitate. I fire. A loud crack reverberates, the impact throwing my stomach into my throat. Silence follows, then Adriana’s sharp laugh.
Nolan’s voice booms through the room: “Ugh, goddammit. Clean this up. Now!” Orders barked at men who rush to obey. I can barely hear him over the thundering in my own head.
All I can focus on is Adriana, shoving me toward the bed, the sudden intrusion of the drug erratically bouncing inside my bloodstream. My hands shake around the gun, every inch of me vibrating with adrenaline.
She unbuckles my belt and pants, and I’m suddenly hard as fuck against my wishes. That’s meth, though. forcing a body to desire. Her lips crash into mine, and my heart thunders in my ears, a chaotic beat that drowns out reason.
My skin feels hypersensitive, every brush of her fingers, every exhale against my mouth sending shockwaves through me.
“Come on, sweetheart,” she beckons, her voice dripping with a sweetness that makes my stomach tighten. She plucks the gun from my hand with a casual flick of her wrist and sets it on the bedside table like it’s nothing. Her legs part, and my vision swims as the drug pulls me deeper into its fog.
I don’t want this. I don’t want her.
But my body doesn’t care what I want. Heat pulses through my veins, like my blood has turned to fire. My thoughts stumble over each other, slipping through my fingers every time I try to grab hold of them.
I remember reading about this once. The rush and the endless energy. The insane desire to fuck. It sounded fantastic. But now it feels like a trap. I hate it because it pushes me toward the worst parts of myself. Toward decisions I know I shouldn’t make.
But I also know how this works. If I pull away, she’ll complain to Nolan. And Nolan will make sure I regret it. So I stop fighting, like I always do. Fuck it.
She sinks down in front of me, and the sudden closeness pulls a low sound from my throat before I can stop it. My hand slams against the wall beside me, steadying myself as the room tilts. Everything is too much.
The heat. The pressure. The way the drug turns the intensity of everything up. My mind is screaming at me to stop, but my body refuses to listen, the damn thing.
I drag a hand through her auburn hair and pull her back up. Her green eyes flash, bright with surprise and excitement as I shove her back onto the bed. For a second, I just stare down at her, chest rising and falling hard.
Fucking masochist.
She has no idea what I actually want to do right now.
Adriana grabs my shirt and pulls me down into a hard kiss. “Yes, Jude,” she breathes against my mouth. "Take it out on me."
Shut up. I don’t want you.
I want to fucking strangle you.
Her words scrape against something ugly and primal inside me. I’ve only been with one woman for seven goddamn years. Even though I’m not actually with Emma, I feel fucking awful.
But I...I can’t stop.
I’m lost, a demon consumed by the drugs coursing through me.
They don’t care about guilt. Their claws just drag me forward anyway.
My thoughts scatter, dissolving under the weight of sensation and anger and everything I’ve been trying not to feel.
The room fades at the edges as the moment swallows me whole.
Adriana gasps beneath me, her nails digging into my back. Every instinct in me says to stop and to walk away. Instead, I let the drug and the fury carry me somewhere I won’t have to think.
Shut the fuck up before I smother you.
When the release finally hits, it crashes through me like a wave breaking against stone. My vision flashes, the world narrowing to nothing but the pounding in my chest and the roar in my ears.
For a few seconds, everything goes quiet except for Adriana’s breathing beneath me. Her arms are still wrapped around my shoulders. I stay frozen, staring past her at the wall.
I hate myself. I fucking hate myself.
I yank away from her, every nerve on fire, skin crawling like it’s covered in hundreds of roaches. Why do I do this? Why do I allow this? Why…am I like this?
My hands tremble, and I snatch the gun from the bedside table, the cold metal grounding me back to earth even as my chest pounds. I stumble out the door, adrenaline making my legs feel like lead and fire at the same time.
“Amazing, baby,” Adriana calls after me, her laugh laced with a sharpness that indicates she’s also high.
I don’t answer. I just move. I run straight into Micah, and then there’s Nolan, leaning against the wall. Alexei’s there too, casually talking in the black-painted hallway, like none of this is crazy.
Nolan smirks, eyes glinting. “You did a good job fucking Adri,” he says with an infuriating smirk. “Whole penthouse probably heard her screaming over the music.”
My stomach twists. I nod. Heart racing so fast it’s like it might tear right out of my chest. The meth, the alcohol, and the adrenaline...they’re twisting my body inside out.
I feel like I’m going to die.
Micah clears his throat. “Think we should, uh...head back to the hotel?”
Nolan laughs, amused. “Have a good sleep, boys.”
I mutter, but it doesn’t even come out as words.
Micah glances at me, eyes wide. “Come on.” He guides us away from the vultures, and when we’re a safe distance, he asks, “What, man?”
I hand him my phone. “Call Emma. N—now.”
He waits until we’re outside, under the chilly Portland night, and then he calls. My ears are ringing, my body is still buzzing from everything.
Suddenly, she’s there, and I collapse into the backseat. My head falls into Micah’s lap. He’s talking quietly to her. My chest clenches. My hands fumble at my pants, and I feel him buckling me back up without a word.
“I fucked up,” I mutter, but I’m not sure if it comes out that way.
The car doors shut, and the ride becomes a blur. City lights smear past the windows in streaks of gold and white. I stare up at the streetlights as they slide by overhead, my vision unfocused.
“Hey. You okay, man?” Micah asks quietly, his thumb brushing my cheek.
“I can’t d—do this.” The words barely make it out. My voice cracks as I squeeze his hand, my whole body starting to shake.
I just killed two people in one night.
I just took two lives.
“Hey.” Micah gently takes my chin, turning my head toward him. “Look at me.”
My gaze drags back to his face. Everything is blurry, but I can still see the worry etched across it. “I l—love you, M—Micah,” I mumble, the words slurring together.
His grip tightens around my hand.
By the time we get to the hotel, I can barely stand. Micah guides me inside, steadying me. My legs give way, and I collapse onto the floor of a room with two queen beds. The rough carpet scrapes against my cheek as the room spins.
Then I hear her. Her voice. It’s sweet, but it’s trembling.
She’s scared.
I’m sorry I’m like this.
It cuts through the disorientation, through the drugs, through everything that’s making me feel like I’m burning from the inside.
“No...I’m s—sorry. I’m f—fucking sorry, b—baby.”
And just like that, I’m shattered.