30. Chapter 30 #2
I know what they see when they look at me. I’m Alexei’s pet. His monster. I am the famous rockstar that he ripped away from the spotlight. He loved the idea of taking a star and crushing it beneath his fat fucking knuckles.
My hands flex uselessly at my sides while I avoid slipping backward into memory. When I step onto the stage, hundreds of eyes fix onto me at once over their drinks.
Christ. There are a lot of people here.
For a moment, I can barely breathe around the pressure in my chest. The edges of my vision begin to blur, warning me that the derealization shit is waiting to strike again. Gah, I fucking hate it so much. Nothing feels real. Nothing looks real.
It’s like I’m in a dream…
Then my gaze finds Emma near the side of the room, and it all eases for a minute.
She’s watching me carefully, her expression calm even though I know she’s terrified underneath it.
One hand is clutching the strap of her bag while Rafe stands beside her like a guard dog. And I can’t thank him enough for that.
I notice the guitar waiting for me, all black with gold accents. I sigh, hating the fact that my heart is pounding and that my chest is tingling. I can’t lose myself.
Stay here.
Stay with her.
The words reverberate through my head as I shift the guitar higher against my chest, my fingers curling around the neck. For one second, I just stand there beneath the heat of the stage lights, staring out at a room full of silk and diamonds, and I swear I can feel Alexei watching me breathe.
Then I lean toward the microphone, and my fingers drag across the strings.
The first chord rolls through the room, vibrating straight through my ribs, and when I open my mouth, my voice comes out darker than ever.
It’s scarred and painfully human, brought to fruition from years of fucking abuse and suicidal thoughts.
“Love me like a loaded gun…
Hold me like a blade against your throat…”
My fingers move automatically over the guitar, muscle memory carrying me through the progression.
This song was never supposed to leave my notebooks.
I wrote it during nights when I couldn’t sleep without seeing blood behind my eyes.
I worked on it in hotel bathrooms, tour buses, and dressing rooms with my head in my hands while everyone outside screamed my fucking name.
My gaze drifts toward Emma again as I sing the next line.
“You built a cathedral from my ruin…
Then taught me how to beg on my knees…”
Her eyes soften instantly, and something in my chest loosens at the sight of it. The anxiety in her posture is still there, buried beneath that calm therapist composure she wears so well, but I can see the belief underneath it.
She believes I can do this. She’s always believed in me.
The realization slams into me as my fingers move faster over the strings, the rasp in my voice turning rawer.
The sound pouring from me no longer feels rehearsed.
It feels like I’ve been ripped the fuck open.
And somewhere between one lyric and the next, I stop performing for Alexei.
I start singing against him. The shift is subtle at first, but within a few seconds, the energy in the room shifts.
Is it because of the words or the way I’m singing them, I wonder?
Conversations die, smirks fade. People stop watching me like entertainment and start watching me like they’re trying to understand what the fuck is happening in front of them.
Because this isn’t surrender. This is a goddamn warning wrapped in music.
My eyes flick toward Alexei without meaning to.
Instant regret.
The moment I see him sitting there with that amused expression, Vlad beside him and Erik staring at me, a vicious monster claws up the inside of my spine so fast it almost drops me to my knees.
My breath catches halfway through the verse as I begin to lose myself. It’s like cold water flooding my lungs.
Obey. Perform. Kill.
The words slide through my skull in his voice, and my hand nearly misses the next chord.
Fuck.
The guitar trembles against my body as panic tries to climb its way into my chest, and for one horrible second, I feel myself slipping backward into that chair again. Back into the basement. Back into the version of me that existed only to survive whatever they fucking did to me.
Then I find Emma.
Her steady eyes lock onto mine instantly, and I cling to that connection.
I focus on her face and the softness of her lips.
The memory of her fingers tangled through mine while snow drifted around us on the back porch at the cabin.
And the way I made love to her after, telling her how much I fucking love her.
Need her. Her face was once pain, and now it’s peace.
I stare into those honey brown eyes and feel everything lock back into place.
Reality steadies, and my breathing evens out. And when my fingers strike the next chord, it rings louder and stronger than before. I close my eyes for a heartbeat before singing the final verse directly into the silence hanging over the room.
“You can carve your name into my bones…
But they were never yours to keep.
And I would rather die a thousand deaths
Than become the thing you need.”
My voice cracks perfectly on the last line, rough and wrecked in a way no studio recording could ever replicate. The final chord vibrates through the room as my fingers still against the strings.
Stunned silence follows, and when my gaze clashes with Alexei’s again, he’s smirking. He’s amused by my fight. Because he truly believes that he’s won when he hasn’t yet.
Then Nico’s voice crackles through my earpiece, breathless and shaking with disbelief. “She did it.” A burst of static follows, then his voice cuts through again, louder and almost laughing. “She fucking did it.”
Pure relief crashes through me.
Freedom. Real freedom.
Then the atmosphere inside the hall changes instantly. Security begins moving through the crowd with sudden purpose. Guests glance around in confusion while voices rise sharply beneath the music. And near the front row, Alexei slowly rises to his feet.
He’s still calm and smiling, but there’s something murderous behind his eyes now that wasn’t there before.
Oh, fuck.
Did he figure it out?
Goosebumps break out over my arms under his gaze, but it’s not because the conditioning is taking hold again. It’s because I know that look. It’s the look he gets right before somebody dies.
Rafe moves before I do. One hand catches Emma’s wrist while his other disappears beneath his suit jacket. “We’re leaving,” he says evenly into the comms, though there’s an edge beneath the calm now. “Everybody move. Now.”
The crowd hasn’t fully realized what’s happening yet. Confused laughter still drifts through parts of the banquet hall while security starts flooding toward the stage in coordinated lines.
Alexei never stops staring at me. Then his lips curve. And suddenly every instinct in my body starts screaming.
“Jude,” Emma says sharply, suddenly down in front of me.
I move.
The guitar hits the floor behind me with a violent crack as I jump off the stage, landing hard enough that pain shoots through my knees. Emma grabs my arm immediately, staying close while Rafe cuts a path forward through the panicking crowd.
People are shouting now, tables overturning, and glass shattering somewhere to my left. One of Alexei’s guards reaches for Emma, but it’s a huge mistake.
Rafe shoots him directly through the throat without even slowing down, the sound detonating through the room.
And then all hell breaks loose.
Screaming erupts as guests scatter in every direction. Another guard lunges toward us through the crowd, weapon already halfway raised, but this time my body reacts before he can pull the trigger. I catch his wrist, wrench the gun sideways, and fire twice directly into his chest.
The recoil slams through my arm.
Emma flinches beside me but keeps moving. My good girl.
“Rear exit,” Rafe snaps.
More men are pouring in now, fast enough that it’s obvious this was already prepared. Alexei knew we weren’t just going to surrender.
A bullet explodes through one of the champagne towers beside us, spraying crystal and alcohol across the floor.
“Down!” I grab Emma hard, dragging her with me behind an overturned table as gunfire tears through the air. My breathing is ragged, adrenaline burning through my bloodstream. Somewhere behind us, guests are still screaming. I risk one glance upward, and my stomach drops.
Alexei is gone.
Fuck.
“Move,” Rafe orders again.
We sprint. The back corridors blur together in flashes of gold light and marble floors, while alarms begin to scream overhead. Emma’s hand stays locked in mine as we run, her chest heaving with panic.
“You okay?” I throw over my shoulder.
“Yes,” she pants immediately. “Keep going.”
Three guards round the corner ahead, but Rafe kills the first before I even fully register him. The second raises his weapon toward Emma, and I shoot him through the fucking face. The third hesitates just long enough for Rafe to bury a knife beneath his jaw and yank.
But it isn’t enough.
More of them flood the corridor, pouring through the side entrances like Alexei anticipated this exact route. Boots thunder against marble while voices bark over each other in Russian. My pulse spikes hard as two men rush me at once.
I catch the first by the wrist before he can fire, wrenching the gun sideways just as the trigger goes off.
The shot explodes into the ceiling. Pain jolts through my shoulder as I slam my elbow into his throat and rip the weapon free.
The second crashes into me before I can recover, driving me hard into the wall.
“Jude!” Emma shouts somewhere behind me.
I barely hear her. Everything narrows into violence and instinct.