Chapter 25 #2
My gaze drifts over him clinically. Mid-forties, graying hair, expensive watch, and a wedding band.
A thin silver chain glints faintly at the base of his throat, half-hidden beneath his shirt collar.
I don’t know why I notice it, but I crouch anyway.
My fingers hook into the fabric at his collar and tug it down just enough to see the pendant resting against his chest.
It’s matte silver and circular. Heavy for its size.
Etched into the surface is a sharp, angular symbol.
Slavic in origin, but distorted. Intersecting lines forming something almost like a broken sun, or a fractured compass.
It looks old and violent. Men who wear symbols like this believe in power, not law.
Someone wearing this would rather conquer than show mercy.
Still, when I glance back at his wedding band, I wonder who I stole him from.
I brush my thumb over the engraving before unclasping it. The chain slips free, and the pendant falls into my palm. Without hesitation, I slide the silver chain around my own neck. The metal is still warm as it settles just below my collarbone.
I step back, already disengaging. The mask reflects the carnage inside and outside of me. This is how far I’ve fallen.
I leave the house without another glance, slipping back into the night like I was never there at all.
The car behind me pulls away, satisfied with the job being complete.
I stuff the mask into my jacket pocket and put on my helmet.
As I mount the bike and twist the throttle, the engine roars to life, drowning out the world.
And then I ride back toward the guesthouse, toward hell.
I park the bike beside Alexei’s mansion, close to the grass, and kill the engine. The silence of living out in the forest surrounds me as I pull my phone from my pocket. I tense at the text awaiting me. It should make me feel something, but I just stare at it instead. Probably longer than I think.
Mom
Please, Jude, come home. We’re scared for you. Call me? We can talk about anything. We miss you, son.
My throat tightens, but not really enough to matter. With a slow exhale, I type back.
I can’t come home. I love you and Dad. And Vanessa. Please know that. I can’t talk. I’m sorry.
I squeeze my eyes shut, then slide the phone back into my pocket and swing off the bike. Erik and Aiden are on the back patio, always fucking watching me. I don’t look at them. I just want to shower and get some sleep.
My phone buzzes again. This time, it’s Alexei.
He’s praising me for completing the task and informing me that payment has been sent to my account.
I almost laugh. Paying a slave is a comical fucking thing, honestly.
As if money means anything here. It’s likely just to further implicate me should anything ever head south for him.
I shove the thought aside and head for the guesthouse. I’m almost to the door when I freeze.
Screaming.
It’s high-pitched and horrified.
Adriana.
Something in me snaps. I rip the door open, toss my helmet onto the dining table, and stalk down the hall toward the bedroom.
The door is open. He’s on top of her. Short white-blonde hair, dark eyes.
The same man who’s been watching us with a hungry stare for days now. His hands are on her skin. He’s…
Adriana’s wide, terrified eyes lock onto mine, and the world narrows.
He turns at the same time I raise the gun. The shot is immediate and precise, the bullet sinking between his eyes before he can say a damn thing. He drops.
Adriana screams and scrambles away from him, crawling, then surging toward me. She slams into my chest. Her body is shaking violently, teeth chattering as sobs tear out of her. I don’t look down at the body.
Erik and Aiden rush in, swearing loudly when they see him sprawled on the floor. I lift the gun again, pointing it directly at them. They stop, and for the first time, I see hesitation on their end.
“Clean this up,” I say flatly. “Please. I don’t want to see this fucking asshole’s body when I come out.
” The word please surprises me. I lower the gun and turn away, heading for the bathroom.
Adriana follows so close I can feel her breath on my back.
I don’t offer them another glance as I lock the door and set the gun on the sink.
She doesn’t say a word. She just sits on the closed toilet lid, arms wrapped around herself, shaking like she’s going to fall apart.
Her clothes are ripped and her hair is disheveled.
I step into the shower and turn on the hot water, letting it crash over me.
Over everything. Blood. Sweat. Tonight. Today. Fucking all of it.
When I glance over at her, she’s staring straight ahead, unblinking. I don’t feel anything. But I know, logically, that she’s traumatized. And somewhere deep, buried under layers of damage and numbness, something in me understands that I saved her.
Even if I did it without thinking.
I don’t know how much time passes before I finally shut off the water. But when I open the door, nothing has changed. Adriana is still sitting exactly where she was when I got in.
“Would you like to shower?” I ask quietly, wrapping the towel around my hips.
She looks up at me like I’ve suddenly brought her back from some trance, and nods. Mascara stains beneath her eyes.
I breathe out through my nose. “You can lock the door, okay? I’ll just be in bed.”
Another mechanical nod.
I step out and close the door behind me.
The lock clicks almost immediately. I dry off slowly, then pull on a pair of boxers.
Anything else feels suffocating. My skin is too hot for much else.
My body doesn’t feel like mine right now.
The disconnect between mind and body has been getting worse.
I sigh, and that’s when I finally look down.
The body is gone.
No blood, mess, or evidence that anything happened at all.
I don’t check my phone, because I don’t feel like dealing with the likely text from Alexei.
He could threaten me or praise me for killing one of his men.
It’s hard to tell since he doesn’t seem to give a single shit about any of them in any real way.
He’s a psychopath. People don’t matter to him unless they’re useful. Unfortunately, like me.
I lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. For a moment, I wonder if the man’s ghost will haunt this room.
Whatever.
When the bathroom door opens again, Adriana steps out like a shadow of herself. I watch her change into sweatpants and a tank top without looking at me. When she finally does, her lip trembles. She crosses the room and climbs into bed beside me, curling into my side. Her fingers dig into my skin.
For the first time since I saved her, she whispers, “Thank you.”
I don’t answer, because there’s simply nothing up here. No thoughts. No words. Just a vast, dead quiet where everything used to be. I rub her arm because that’s what humans do when they try to comfort one another. The thought almost makes me flinch.
Am I not human anymore?
She clings to me, her head on my chest, and cries. Deep sobs that shake her whole body. And I let her.
Life doesn’t feel fucking real anymore.
The cruelty of the world crashes down on me all at once.
I hold her while she cries until sleep finally takes her.
But I don’t sleep. I don’t think I blink for fifteen fucking minutes as I stare out the window at the dark trees beyond the glass.
I can feel my soul tearing apart. It’s the part of me that still holds empathy.
Love. Memory. And it’s screaming...begging me to remember people who once meant everything to me.
But the darkness in my mind tells it to fuck right off. I feel it rip away, brutally, with a sound that isn’t real but still makes me flinch.
Is this what it feels like to break?