7. Chapter 7 #2
He exhales hard, dragging a hand down his face before stepping closer to me. “He’s not himself right now.” His voice drops. “You saw what he did to you, okay? Emma, he almost killed you.”
My hand lifts unconsciously to my throat, fingers brushing over the bruises. “I know,” I whisper. “But he didn’t.”
“Because I stopped him!” he snaps.
I incline my chin. “You’re right.”
He sighs, squeezing his eyes closed. He knows he can’t keep me from him. It’s not how this is going to work, anyway. I need to see where he’s at when it comes to me.
Heather stands too, her expression softer but just as serious. “We’re right here,” she says gently. “The second you need us, we’re coming in. Okay?”
Micah doesn’t seem happy about her taking my side on this. He hesitates for half a second longer, then steps aside.
I move past him before he can change his mind. “If my face is a trigger, I need to see how bad. As awful as it is.”
“Em.”
I turn to see real sadness on his face.
“Be careful.”
I dip my chin and reach for the handle, hovering over it for a moment. My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it’s in my throat. “Have a weapon ready.”
Micah stills, but nods anyway. As horrific as that feels to say, it’s true.
He almost killed you.
I force the reminder down with a swallow. My fingers tighten, and before I can hesitate any longer, I unlock the door and push it open. The sound of it pulls his attention immediately.
Jude’s head turns sharply toward me, and his entire body goes rigid. His hands curl into the sheets, knuckles whitening as something flashes across his face. Not recognition. No, something worse. Agitation.
“No,” The word tears out of him, raw and broken as he pushes himself up, the chains clinking with the movement. “No, no, no—”
My chest cracks. “Jude…” My voice trembles despite everything I try to do to steady it. “It’s Emma.”
That makes it worse.
His head jerks. “I know,” he snaps, squeezing his eyes shut like he’s trying to block me out. “Stop. I can’t—I can’t look at you.”
I take a step forward anyway. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I say softly, even as my throat tightens.
His breathing turns ragged, his hands coming up to drag through his hair. “Get out,” he rasps.
The words hit, but I don’t stop. “You’re safe,” I whisper. “He can’t hurt you here. I am not a threat to you.”
His eyes snap open. And for a second, I don’t recognize them. They’re dark. Hollow in a way that doesn’t feel human anymore. Like whatever warmth used to live there has just…died.
“Get the fuck out!” he shouts, surging forward. The chains snap tight with a violent crack, and I flinch back instinctively, my body hitting the wall behind me. My heart is racing now, panic clawing its way up my throat. But I don’t run.
He’s breathing hard, staring at me like I’m someone he wants to kill. And then he laughs. It’s broken, empty, and downright horrifying. “You shouldn’t be here.” His voice is rough.
Tears blur my vision, but I don’t look away. “Please.” The word slips out. “I’ve missed you. Please…talk to me.”
“No!” he spits, yanking against the chains again, harder this time, like he needs the pain. “Leave!”
My breath catches. “Jude—”
“I wouldn’t have had to—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head hard. “This, this shit—” His voice spikes, frustration bleeding through. “Do you understand that? I don’t want you. I don’t want to see you. I can’t—”
The words slam into me. I shake my head slowly, tears spilling over. “That’s not true.”
“It is!” he roars, the sound tearing through the room. “Everything he did.” His voice breaks, his body shaking violently now. “Everything he fucking did—”
I feel it in my chest. Like something is physically breaking apart inside me.
Please don’t let me die without you remembering what we felt like.
“They—” His voice falters, like the thought won’t come out. His hand drags through his hair again. “They used you.”
My bottom lip trembles.
“Your face.” He swears under his breath, shaking his head like he can’t get away from it. “Every goddamn day, for months.”
I stay quiet, struggling to hold myself upright.
“They made me look at you,” he continues, quieter now. “Made me think about—” He cuts himself off, jaw tightening. “And every time I did, it just—” He chokes on it, his face twisting like the memory itself hurts. “It hurt. So fucking bad.”
My chest caves in.
“I tried—” he starts, then stops, shaking his head hard. “I tried to—keep you. Somewhere deep.” His voice drops, unstable, like it’s slipping through his fingers. “But he didn’t—he didn’t stop until—” He breaks off completely.
Until it broke him.
My hand presses against my chest, like I can physically hold myself together. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, even though it feels useless. “I’m so sorry.”
His expression goes flat. Empty. “I don’t want your fucking apology.”
Hot tears spill down my face.
“I want you gone.”
Silence crashes into the room. I can’t breathe. He’s just there, shaking, sick, broken…
And looking at me like I’m the reason.
A sob forces its way out of me, my hand flying up to cover my mouth.
His breathing is speeding up, his chest rising and falling fast. And then he stills. His head tilts slightly, his eyes locking onto me with a sudden, sharp focus that makes my skin prickle.
My heart stutters. Something shifts. “Hey, wait—”
He moves before I can finish. One second, he’s on the bed.
And the next, he’s off it. Chains clatter as he lunges forward, the sound exploding through the room.
The sudden movement rips a gasp out of me.
I stagger back again. His eyes are wide now, and locked right on me.
But they’re not him. His eyes are…black. Like a predator zeroing in on its prey.
My breath catches. “Jude, please—”
“I’ll fucking kill you,” he snaps. “Get out before I do.”
The chains snap tight again as he strains against them, his entire body shaking with the effort, veins standing out along his neck. His gaze flickers across my face again, and I see him flinch and recoil, like looking at me is hurting him.
His voice fractures, panic bleeding through. “He’s going to—he’s going to hurt me.”
“Alexei’s not here,” I say, forcing calm into my voice. “You’re safe.”
“Please. I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice cracks, desperation slipping through for just a second. Almost like he wants me here but knows I can’t be. And then it’s gone. “GET OUT!” he shouts, the words ripping out of him as he surges forward again.
The chains jerk, and I stumble back harder this time, my body slamming into the wall. This isn’t safe. This isn’t something I can control. This is—
“Emma.”
Micah’s voice reaches me from the doorway behind me.
My hand finds the doorknob, but I can’t stop looking at him. At the man I love. I can’t keep doing this. Not when I’m hurting him just by being here. Not when he looks at me like I’m something he needs to escape. My heart is breaking. God, it hurts.
I take a shaky step back. Then another.
Jude watches me move, his breathing still uneven, his hands clenched into fists so tight they’re shaking.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I love you.”
His jaw tightens. His eyes narrow, like he doesn’t trust a single word coming out of my mouth.
I turn before I can change my mind. And I walk out. The moment the door shuts behind me, the world tilts. I don’t make it far. I barely take two steps before my body gives out completely, my knees buckling beneath me as my soul rips in half.
Micah catches me before I hit the ground. “Hey, hey—” His arms are immediately around me, steadying me as I collapse into him, my hands clutching at his shirt.
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. It all just—
“He was once so full of life,” I sob, my voice breaking as I reach for his best friend. “A bright light in this world—” My voice shatters. “They stole his soul, Micah.” The words barely make it out of me. “He’s—he’s gone.”
Micah goes completely still. His grip tightens, like he’s bracing himself.
And I break.
The world narrows down to the weight of his arms around me. The floor is cold beneath us, but he doesn’t let me feel it. He pulls me closer instead, so I’m sitting on his lap. My face presses into his shoulder as I sob, my breath catching in jagged stutters.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “I’ve got you, Em.” He kisses the top of my head, his hand moving slowly up and down my back.
Heather kneels beside us, her hand settling gently on my back.
The three of us just…hold each other. And I can’t stop the way my mind keeps going back to Jude.
To the version of him that smiled like the stars themselves granted his existence.
The way the sunlight hit his face that day at Ecola Point.
His head tilted slightly, hair caught in the wind, that easy, boyish smile stretching across his face.
He was happy. He was...him.
I scream into Micah’s chest because that version of Jude feels so far away now. “No…” I choke out. “No, no—”
Micah’s arms tighten around me immediately. But it’s not enough. It doesn’t stop my mind from showing me the difference. The boy in that photo...versus the man behind that door, chained to a bed…
My tears come harder, faster, until I’m shaking in Micah’s arms, completely unraveling. “I can’t lose him,” I whisper, the words spilling out broken and desperate. “I can’t. I can’t—”
“I know,” Micah says softly, his voice thick with his own emotion.
His hands move up slowly, gently taking my face, forcing me to look at him. His eyes are red, jaw tight. “Emma,” he says quietly, his thumbs brushing away my tears as more fall in their place. “We can cry.”
I swallow hard, trying to breathe through it.
“We can fall apart right now,” he continues. “But we can’t forget what we’re doing.”
I whimper, my chest seizing through the devastation of it.
“We’re not done,” he says. “Not even close. He’s still in there. And we’re going to bring him back.”
I shake my head, my voice trembling. “What if we can’t? He hates me. Alexei really got what he fucking wanted.”
Micah doesn’t hesitate. “We will.”
The certainty in his voice doesn’t erase the fear, but it steadies me a little. My chest rises and falls as I let myself feel it, even if I hate it. Because if Jude is going to come back...I need to be stronger than this moment. Stronger than the pain. The fear that’s trying to swallow me whole.
I press my forehead briefly against Micah’s, closing my eyes as another tear slips down my cheek. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He shakes his head immediately. “Don’t be.”
Heather’s hand squeezes my shoulder gently. We sit there for a moment longer, the three of us tangled together in grief and determination and…hope.