Chapter Five
Anya
He’s dead.
He’s dead.
He’s fucking dead.
My steps slap against concrete as I sprint down the alley behind the club. I trip and catch myself on a wall streaked with dirt. The blazer swallowed me when I yanked it off the hook in his office, but now it feels too small, like the sleeves are choking my arms. I hold it closed with a fist because I’m basically naked under it.
He’s dead.
A car honks. A guy from across the street whistles. Another leans out a doorway and mutters something filthy about my legs—how he wants them wrapped around his head. I keep walking fast, staring straight ahead, shaking so bad my teeth chatter.
I reach my collapsing rectangle of a building and shove myself inside. I almost make it to my door when that fucker Mr. Devlin intervenes, as always.
“Anya, sweetheart,” Mr. Devlin wheezes as he steps out of his apartment. His belly presses against the cheap cotton of his shirt, and the stains on his collar look older than me. At his age, he can still get erections though. His is pointing straight at me. “You’re out late again. You should—”
“Don’t.”
“I was only checking—”
“DON’T.” I yell with all my might.
Mr. Devlin stumbles back, his heels hitting his own doorframe. I should have done this sooner.
“I was just—”
“Leave me alone!” My hands shake around the blazer. “Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t even fucking look at me.”
He nods so fast his jowls wobble, then disappears inside his apartment. Good fucking riddance.
I might’ve killed Cassian.
But what I’m sure of is that he killed someone because of me. Without hesitation.
I unlock my door, stumble inside, and collapse onto the mattress that has no sheets because I’ve been too tired to wash anything this week. My hands won’t open; they keep clenching and unclenching.
He killed a person like it cost him nothing.
And me? Adrenaline slid into places it shouldn’t—between my thighs.
What the hell is wrong with me?
God, I’m sick.
I’m sick in a way I don’t even understand.
I curl onto my side, trying to wrap the blazer tighter around me. Cassian’s scent lingers on it, and that makes everything worse.
“What’s wrong with me,” I whisper into the mattress. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
I made up spots that man touched me.
I lied.
I lied so Cassian would kiss them.
“He had a wedding ring,” I mumble, like that should erase my guilt for getting that man killed by Cassian.
He was a cheater. A scumbag. A pig.
But is that enough to justify that he’s dead because of me? Is that enough to live with?
“No.” The answer comes out on a sob. “No, no, no.”
My ribs hurt from how hard I cry, and the blazer slips off one shoulder, leaving me cold and bare.
I never thought that stupid little razor necklace would ever protect me. It was just a piece of metal I wore because it looked edgy—turns out it cuts rope pretty well.
And when I realized I was enjoying Cassian’s touch—I panicked so hard that I lunged right at his neck. The tiny blade shouldn’t have caused that much damage, but he passed out. There’s no way it killed him… but what if it did? What the hell am I going to do?
The Morelli brothers are going to hunt me down. They’ll erase me from the world like I was never born.
And in the very likely scenario that he isn’t dead—
I’m dead anyway.
I’m dead because he won’t let this go. Men like him don’t forgive. Men like him don’t forget. I can’t win. And I have no idea why a man like him set his eyes on a woman like me in the first place. Okay, yes, I know I’m pretty. But I’m nothing special compared to all those women who frequent these clubs, ones much more suitable for him than I am.
I should’ve just left when he fired me. Being homeless is so much better than what I’ve just done and seen and felt.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
He’s alive. He has to be alive. Because if he’s not—
I’m done.
And if he is…
I’m done too.
I want to rewind the whole damn night. I want to tear off my skin because I can still feel his hands on me, his breath on my neck, and the sick, twisted part of me that loved it.
I’m a monster. I got a man killed. I hurt someone who could destroy me with a snap of his fingers. I let things happen that should never have happened.
And I don’t know who I am anymore.