Chapter 31
Chapter thirty-one
JUDE GRAVES
The last thing I wanna do is be here on a Sunday when I could just be with Em. Alexei’s penthouse perfectly reflects the darkness in his soul, that’s for fucking sure. Even though I’ve been in here before, it still feels like standing in a place where I could be murdered without a second thought.
He doesn’t even turn around when I step off the elevator and into his office. “Sit,” he says, like he’s talking to a dog.
I lower myself into the chair across from him, noting that neither Nolan nor Adriana is here. My hands stay in my lap, fists hidden, jaw tight. I don’t bother trying to look comfortable. He’d see through it.
He finally turns, a glass of something clear in hand.
He studies me for a moment before setting something on the table between us.
My gaze snags on it, and it immediately makes my stomach turn.
A bone-white mask that has no real human features.
The surface material resembles bone, and the “eyes” are jagged slits, dark, claw-like gouges that sink deep into the face.
And the mouth...a sealed, too-wide grin carved in cracked lines, stretching almost ear to ear.
It almost reminds me of a fucked up, smiling Slenderman mask.
“Another job?” I ask, even though it’s obvious.
He smiles, purely predatory. “You’re smarter than Nolan gives you credit for.”
I clench my fists at the insult. This piece of shit.
He sits across from me, crossing one ankle over his knee. “There is a distributor here in Portland,” he says. “A man who thinks he can run product in this city as a newcomer.” He sips his drink. “I need him gone.”
The word gone has me focusing on my breath.
I nod once. “Let me get this straight,” I start with a sigh. “A Russian is running drugs through some of the major cities in the US now?”
Alexei just stares at me, and it’s answer enough.
He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Don’t be stupid.
It’s more common than you think. This is just the beginning for you, little rockstar.
There are men in Seattle who will need cleaning up as well.
” His gaze darkens. “The city is mine for the taking. Someone needs to help me take it. Nolan has a lot of contacts in this country, and our partnership allows for him to benefit. You, too. And I like you, Jude. You have a particular fire that interests me.”
“What do you mean by that?” I ask flatly.
He grins. “There’s an anger deep inside you, boy, that I admire. One that could help us expand all over the world if we want to. With my help, you’ll become way more than you are now. If you can believe it.”
My pulse thuds in my throat. Seattle. Portland. States, borders—he’s not talking about a few jobs. He’s talking about a fucking career.
A goddamn life sentence.
I force the words out evenly. “Did Nolan okay this?”
Alexei’s expression doesn’t change. “I don’t work for Nolan,” he says quietly. “Nolan works for me now.”
The meaning cracks down my spine like a hammer. In pursuit of money and power, Nolan has sacrificed my life.
“I don’t need Nolan’s permission for anything.”
I swallow hard. There’s no air in my lungs, but I still nod.
He slides the mask closer with one finger. “Tonight.”
I pick it up, and he watches me with amused approval, like he’s training a new pet.
“Good boy,” he murmurs. “Now, let’s go over the details.”
My skin crawls, but I listen.
Night swallows the city while I pull the mask over my face.
The world narrows the instant it settles onto my skin, vision tinted by those jagged eye-slits.
My breath is warm against its grin as I tug my hood up to become the demon Alexei wants.
The white gloves slide on next. My heartbeat slows. My breathing levels.
Autopilot.
The streets are quiet as I move, just the sound of distant traffic and the buzz of a neon sign flickering over the vape shop below his building. The distributor lives in a shitty apartment above it—peeling paint, rust around the railing, an ashtray overflowing outside the door. Too easy.
I slip into the narrow alley and pick the back lock.
The old mechanism clicks open, as if relieved to finally give up.
Inside, the smell that hits me is of cheap takeout and stale smoke.
I step through the cramped kitchen, each movement calculated and quiet.
A tired light buzzes overhead, and there is a sink full of dirty bowls and a stack of empty energy drink cans.
This is the guy trying to claw his way up the drug world?
Pathetic. But it makes sense because ambition for meaningful pursuits rots quickest in dark places like this.
He’s sitting on the couch, hunched forward, TV light flickering blue across his face.
A plate of half-eaten noodles sits on the coffee table beside him.
He scratches his cheek and reaches for the remote.
And then he looks up.
His eyes land on the blank, stretched grin of the mask, and everything in him freezes.
A startled gasp leaves him as he drops the remote onto the dirty rug.
His mouth opens to scream or pray to a god I don’t believe in.
I’ll never know which, because my hand is already around his throat.
My other hand drives the knife in, quick, clean, center mass.
His fingers claw helplessly at my wrist, covered perfectly by the gloves.
His movements slow.
Then...stop.
His head hits the cushion, eyes frozen open in terror. There’s a soft wheeze as the last air leaks out of him. I stare for a moment, not feeling much. Just pressure in my skull, the ringing in my ears, the familiar drop in my gut. This is what I am now.
Alexei’s weapon.
I yank the blade free, wipe it on the couch, and leave.
Micah is at the kitchen counter when I walk in, still in the blood-splattered mask. The second he sees the stains, he shoots upright, the chair legs screeching against the floor.
“Jesus, Jude.” His voice cracks. “Again? Did Nolan—”
“It wasn’t Nolan,” I mutter, pulling the mask off. A strand of hair sticks to the inside from sweat. I shove it into my guitar case, where it will live alongside my other self. The version of me I wish desperately I could get back to.
Micah’s eyes follow the case. “Jude...we need to talk about Rook. I think we can—”
“It’s too late.”
Micah flinches at the tone.
But I’m so fucking tired. It’s a bone-deep type of exhaustion from all of the stress of trying to balance two worlds in my hands.
I sink into the couch, elbows on my knees, head in my hands.
“If this were still Nolan, maybe, yeah. But Alexei?” I shake my head.
“Rook can probably hack house cats like Nolan. But tigers?” I scoff.
“They eat people like us every goddamn day.”
Micah’s throat works, like he wants to argue, wants to save me, but knows he’s out of his depth. He just whispers, barely audible, “He’s going to kill you.”
“Yeah,” I breathe, rubbing my eyes until stars burst behind them. “Probably.”
“We can at least try—”
“Shut it, Micah,” I snap, sharper than I mean to, my hands shaking as I reach for the heroin I’ve been craving for hours. “It is what it is.”
“What about Emma? And the band—”
“I don’t fucking know, man.” The words scrape out of me, drained and defeated. “I’ve ignored Finnick and Kami’s texts. They seem to have gotten the point to leave me alone.”
He drags a hand through his hair. “They texted me to check on you. I told them you were okay.” He sits beside me, softer now.
“I’m fucked, Micah.” My voice cracks. “If I do end up dying, please make sure Emma is okay.”
His eyes narrow, fury burning through his fear. “What the fuck, Jude. What the fuck.”
I ignore him. I can’t handle the weight of his anger and care. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and my chest hollows when I see the screen.
EMMA
Hey! My last client leaves at 4 tmrw. Mondays are usually pretty easy. Wanna come over for dinner?
“Ugh,” I rub a hand down my face. I prepare the heroin with steadier hands, tap the syringe, and sink the needle into my arm. Relief floods fast and hot, my eyes rolling back as I melt deeper into the couch.
I know. I hate myself, friend. I’m sorry. I’m trapped and I don’t know how to get out.
To anyone outside looking in, I’m being a fucking asshole. I get it. But if they were in my position, they’d understand. There’s no easy solution to escape what I have become.
The room goes quiet in that way only real shame and sadness can create. Micah watches me disappear inch by inch. I avoid his eyes because I can’t stand the worry in them. Because it means I’m still human enough to hurt from it.
And I’m not sure how much longer that’ll last at this point.