Chapter 30 #2
I wave her off and toss back the fourth shot, setting the empty glasses onto the tray without looking at her. I can’t feel anything tonight. Not even a little. Perhaps alcohol will allow for something.
A hand lands warmly on my shoulder, and I already know who it is. “There he is,” Alexei says, smiling like a proud mentor. “Excellent work tonight.”
I don’t respond. I just stare ahead, eyes unfocused.
He chuckles softly, then guides me a few steps away from the center of the room. Adriana follows automatically, staying close enough that her shoulder brushes mine.
“I wanted to check something,” Alexei says casually, already reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket. “You’ve been so good.”
I barely pay attention...that is, until he pulls out the photo. The second I see it, my entire body locks. Heat rushes up my spine so fast it almost feels like another electric shock. My teeth clench hard enough to crack them, my breath going sharp through my nose as the image burns into my vision.
Her.
Every muscle in my shoulders tightens instinctively, fists curling at my sides. A violent urge surges up in my chest, like a switch flipping without warning. “Get her out of my fucking face,” I snap.
Alexei doesn’t move the photo. If anything, his smile deepens slightly. “Why?”
“I said get it away from me.”
“Why?” he repeats.
My pulse pounds hard in my ears, my skin buzzing like I want to tear something apart just to make the feeling stop. “I want nothing to do with her,” I say, each word filled with fury. “Nothing. Now get it. The fuck. Away from me.”
Silence lingers for half a second. Then Alexei finally lowers the photo, clearly satisfied.
“Good,” he murmurs. He pats my shoulder again, almost affectionately, before stepping away to greet someone across the room, leaving me standing there with the echo of that flash of fury still vibrating through my chest.
Adriana watches me carefully, confusion and worry tangled together in her expression, but I don’t look at her. I just reach for another drink as a server passes.
Motherfucker. That fucking motherfucker.
One second I’m standing there, the echo of his approval still ringing in my ears, and the next I’m moving through the crowd without really feeling my feet touch the floor.
Bodies blur past me, laughing, dancing, hands sliding over skin, mouths pressed together on couches and against walls.
Someone spills a drink. Someone else shouts over the music.
The bass pulses through the marble and my bones.
None of it feels real.
My head is light, loud, and so goddamn far away from my body.
Adriana says something behind me, maybe my name, but the words don’t reach me.
They dissolve somewhere before I can really understand them.
Then the music changes. The first notes of “Entombed” by Deftones drifts through the room, cutting through all the noise in my head.
It’s suddenly the only thing I can hear.
The only thing that feels sharp enough to register.
My heart swells with something I can’t quite place.
I move toward the balcony without thinking.
No. How can this be happening?
Forget her forget her forget her forget her…
The glass door slides open, and winter slams into me all at once—freezing wind, swirling snow, air so cold it burns the inside of my lungs. My hands grip the metal railing automatically, fingers tightening around the icy edge as I step forward.
The city stretches below, endless lights scattered across the dark like some faraway dream. We’re high. Higher than I expected. My teeth chatter immediately from the wind.
So far down.
For a moment, I just stare. The song swells behind me, and the tension inside my chest loosens. Then, it unravels completely, and everything starts to blur. The lights smear together. Even my own hands don’t look like they belong to me anymore, fingers curled like someone else is controlling them.
I feel…detached. Like perhaps I stepped outside my own body and forgot how to get back in. A strange thought drifts through my mind:
It would be easy. One step. One shift of weight forward. Gravity would do the rest.
The wind whips through my hair, snaps the edges of my suit jacket behind me, snow catching in my lashes as I blink slowly against the cold. My pulse pounds somewhere far away.
I don’t feel like Jude.
Jude doesn’t exist up here.
He was someone who loved music. Someone who laughed with his head thrown back, and who made promises he knew he’d keep. Someone who was kind and good and filled with life...
That person is gone.
What’s left is something else. Something colder that fits the mask better than it ever fit a face. A ghost wearing an expensive suit. My grip tightens on the railing as the thought settles in, and for one suspended second, I lean forward slightly, staring down into the dizzying drop below. Then—
Hands slam into my shoulders.
I’m yanked backward hard enough that my spine hits the wall behind me, the impact knocking a rough breath from my lungs.
The world tilts violently, vision struggling to refocus as the snow keeps falling around us in thick, silent spirals.
It’s Adriana. I know it before I can even see her clearly.
I think she’s saying my name, but the words sound muffled.
Her hands move from my shoulders to my face, warm fingers gripping my jaw, forcing me to look at her. Her lips are moving fast, pleading.
I can’t understand anything she’s saying. I can only hear the song. My chest tightens, and a broken sound claws its way up my throat, escaping me before I can stop it.
“I’m…” My voice comes out thin, unsteady. “I’m not me.”
Her expression shifts to confusion and worry, but she doesn’t let go. Instead, she pulls me forward, wrapping her arms around me tightly, pressing me against her. Snow collects on her auburn hair, also blowing with the wind.
Is the song playing again? Or has it just not finished? Is time even working? Because I still hear it.
I don’t hug her back right away. I just stand there, rigid and shaking, staring past her shoulder at the open sky, desperately reaching inside myself for something to hold onto. Something to remind me that I’m alive and human.
But there’s nothing.
I stagger through the guesthouse door and let it slam shut behind us.
The world is still tilting slightly, the vodka and meth fighting inside my bloodstream, neither winning.
My head buzzes. My hands won’t stop trembling.
I don’t know if it’s the cold, the comedown, or the way the balcony moment is still replaying in flashes behind my eye.
The drop, the wind, the sudden thought of how easy it would’ve been to just fucking die.
Adriana follows me inside quietly. I don’t look at her at first. I just lean my palms against the wall, breathing hard, staring at nothing. Then she says my name. It’s soft and careful.
Something in my chest twists sharply, and before I can think, I turn and grab her, pulling her against me.
My mouth finds hers, rough and desperate, like I’m trying to drown something inside myself.
She gasps, surprised, but she kisses me back for a second, her fingers clutching at my suit jacket.
I don’t let up. I back her toward the bedroom, our steps clumsy and off-balance.
We bump into the doorframe, my shoulder taking the impact.
My hip smacks into the sharp corner of the dresser. I barely feel it. My head is spinning.
I push her backward, and she falls onto the bed. I don’t give her time to speak. I climb over her, caging her body with mine, my knees pressing into the mattress on either side of her hips.
My hands are shaking. I can feel the tremble in my fingers as they reach for my belt. I undo the buckle on autopilot. Then my button and zipper of my pants.
Before I can lose myself entirely, Adriana’s hand comes up, her fingers wrapping around my wrist, and it stops me cold. “Hey,” she says, her voice hoarse. “Look at me.”
I force my gaze to meet hers. Her expression isn’t satisfied. It’s…nervous.
“You’re not here,” she says softly.
I stare at her. The truth of it hangs between us. My pants are still half-undone, my heart pounding against my ribs. The physical ache is still there. “Why the fuck do you care?” I say, my voice flat. “It never seemed to bother you before when you were using my body.”
Her lips part, her eyes widening slightly. But she doesn’t say anything.
I sigh heavily through my nose, staring at her with a blank face.
“Answer me,” I demand, wrapping my hand around her throat and squeezing enough to prove my point.
How dare she deny me, when all she used to do was fucking take from me.
Something ugly shifts inside me, and for a split second, I picture myself choking her.
I could hurt her. Really hurt her this time.
I could fuck her so hard she won’t be able to walk.
My body tingles as I picture the power of it.
The control. Of taking whatever I fucking want because no one ever asked me before they took from me.
“Why are you suddenly acting like you have a moral backbone?” I ask, hearing how horrifying I sound even as the words leave me. She writhes beneath me, and I press her back into the mattress without thinking, my grip tightening.
“I...I’m scared, Jude,” she whispers. “Stop.”
“Oh? Do you miss the power you had before? Is that it?” My voice is cold, detached, like someone else is speaking through my mouth.
I don’t think I’ve blinked in minutes. I lean my head down and bite onto her throat.
She yelps, her body tensing beneath me. My whole body is vibrating with a rage that’s violent and focused purely on physical relief. And then something snaps.
And I suddenly see what I’m about to become.
No.
I shove myself away from her so fast I fall off the bed, dragging both hands through my hair as my chest heaves. “I’m sorry,” I rasp, the words breaking out of me. “I’m—fuck. I’m sorry.”
Adriana pushes herself upright slowly, watching me like she’s still genuinely scared I’m going to hurt her. She has a hand on her throat where I'd bitten her.
Good, bitch. Be fucking scared of me.
No, no, no, no…
“I almost—” My voice fails. I shake my head hard, standing to pace once, twice, like I can outwalk this feeling of losing control. Alexei found the demon inside me and coaxed it to the fucking surface. My hands won’t stop shaking. I thought I still had a line. I don’t even know where it is anymore.
I collapse onto the floor and stay there for a long time, staring at nothing, trying to slow the pounding in my chest. The mattress shifts quietly behind me. I don’t turn around at first. I don’t trust what I’ll see in her face.
Soft footsteps cross the floor. Then she lowers herself beside me, leaving a few inches of space between us as we sit against the side of the bed.
Neither of us speaks. The room is dim, the only light coming from the lamp near the window, casting everything in a dull gold haze that makes the night feel heavier than it already is.
Minutes pass. Maybe more, I don’t know.
She lets her hand rest on mine, and my throat tightens. I don’t move away. We just sit there, breathing the same quiet air, two people who don’t know how to fix what’s happening but aren’t ready to sit through it alone. I stare at the floor and swallow hard.
“I didn’t mean to,” I say finally, my voice rough and barely above a whisper.
“I know,” she says. “It’s okay.”
I wish I believed her...but I don’t.