seven -Brynn- #2
“You know I can’t do that. Not until… until I get an answer.” I trail off, ready to fight for the truth. The alternative feels impossible right now.
“Go back to your room, Brynn, before some shit I might regret happens.” It’s him who stands up and leaves, not me.
I don’t stop him. Maybe if I’d felt his anger, I’d have had more guts to stop him. But it’s his calm that instills the real fear.
He walks toward the doorway, his back to me. “I’ve never seen that man before. Not until I saw the picture in your phone,” he finishes—a sentence that takes my breath away. I don’t even know if it’s in a good way or in the worst possible one.
I should go after him—or at least try—ask him if he’s sure, ask him if he’s really telling the truth.
There’s no point. Ares might be a lot of things: torturer, killer, mafia lord, the list could go on forever. But he’s no liar. He goes by a code of honor. A man of his word.
He didn’t kill Elias.
My search isn’t over. It just broke me in the process.
I remain in the chair for a few more minutes, watching the door like he might walk back. Though I know better. He won’t.
It’s the first time that I willingly go to my room downstairs—or more accurately, crawl there.
I fucked up. Big. No—not even big. Catastrophically.
I managed not only to fuck-up at finding Elias’s killer, but also get my heart broken in the process.
I try to swallow the knot in my throat, but it always seems to find its way back, same goes for the one in the pit of my stomach, and I’m desperately trying to replace whatever feeling I have with hate.
The disdain and anger pointed at whoever killed Elias.
Though it’s not enough. Not enough to stop the screaming inside.
The regret. The battle to hold back from saying I’m sorry and crawling to his feet.
I’m not that person. I swear I will never be that weak. Maybe in another lifetime, maybe under different circumstances, if I hadn’t gone through everything I endured in that asylum. I just can’t allow myself to break that way. Because then the last part of me will be gone.
I stay in bed until morning, the place even more uncomfortable than it felt before, like the room has gotten too small and the bed too cold… too empty for my liking. Kind of funny, since I’ve always slept alone.
Still, the emptiness of what happened last night leaves only room for regret.
By morning, my eyes are bloodshot, hands trembling from exhaustion, thoughts a blur, and the thirst for revenge bubbling inside me.
But what tears me apart is that I still haven’t found the person responsible for Elias’ death.
Not even after everything I’ve been through, not after everything I’ve lost.
I’m not sure what time it is since I don’t have a clock, but I get out of bed and follow the only path I know lately. The door to the house is unlocked this time, just the way I left it.
I hope Ares’ feelings have changed since last night. Deep down, I know they haven’t, but maybe he’ll hate me enough to let me go.
I walk down the hallway, calling for him and waiting a few moments for an answer.
For some reason, I feel like I’m invading his privacy if I go any further.
Strange, I know, but things have changed between us, and I’m much closer to the Brynn who was dragged into his house the night I stole the gun shipment than the Brynn who used to share his bed.
Still, there’s no answer, so I move toward his bedroom.
Maybe he’s sleeping and hasn’t heard me.
Though that’s the least of my concerns. Right now, my biggest fear is finding him with someone else.
A random thought crossing my mind, but I can’t forget how seeing him with that blonde felt—even if she turned out to be his sister.
I can’t even imagine finding him with someone in bed.
That doesn’t stop me from knocking on the bedroom door though. Not something that’s usually in my nature, but as I said… things have changed.
No answer again, so I twist the knob, my fucking heart in my throat like it’s trying to escape through my mouth.
With a deep breath, I push the door open.
It’s empty. It’s fucking empty!
I throw a small mental parade—cheering and confetti included.
I don’t even know what’s wrong with me, or why I’d even care. But I do. Much more than I want to admit. And definitely much more than I should right now.
I turn around and decide to wait for him in the kitchen since my stomach is making it very clear I’ve been neglecting it for too long by letting out a loud growl.
The moment I force my limping leg to move and actually manage to whirl around, a dark shadow rises behind me. Every instinct tells me to freeze, but I’ve never frozen in the face of danger. I turn... and it’s him. Ares.
Damn, he seems taller than before. Hotter too.
He’s wearing a black hoodie over a matching tank top and shorts, which tells me he’s been out for a run. That, and the water bottle he holds in one hand, while tiny drops of sweat gather on his forehead, falling one by one between his braids.
Fuck, now I’m hot too. My palms are sweating, my chest is tense, and I don’t even want to get into what’s happening between my thighs.
“I was just looking for you,” I murmur, somehow trying to explain why I was coming out of his bedroom.
“For me, or just looking around?” he asks, his tone cold as ice, and I don’t blame him. What we shared wasn’t some enemies-the-lovers kind of fling, more like lovers-to-enemies.
“What I’m searching for isn’t here.” I hesitate, just for a second. “I believe you when you say you didn’t kill Elias. But I have to find out who did.”
He doesn’t make a single move, as if he didn’t even hear me. Maybe it’s all for the best. Because I’m going to take my chances. “I should go. I need you to let me go.”
The same silence lingers for a few moments, but then a sinister laugh escapes his lips. “Let… you… go,” he continues laughing like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard in a long while. “Let… you… go.”