Chapter 12 REICH
REICH
The revelations from the night before with Castor twisted my thoughts into knots, each one pulling tighter, amplifying the confusion already simmering just beneath the surface of everything I thought I knew.
Sage.
She was a mystery since the first day she showed up on my field.
An equation I couldn’t solve, no matter how many times I tried to work through the variables.
But now?
Now, she was tangled in something much bigger than I had expected.
Her connection to Klay changed everything.
It shifted the entire foundation under my feet.
What was she running from?
And more importantly—why did it lead her to me?
I clenched my teeth as I rolled up my sleeves.
The buttons popped free with sharp snaps, like breaking threads.
My slacks were stained, dirt clinging to my knees, but I didn’t care.
Not tonight.
Not now.
I drove the shovel into the dirt again, the metal biting deep into the earth with a sound that was all too familiar.
A hollow, wet scrape.
The kind of sound that got under your skin if you thought about it too long.
The sorry bastard lying on the ground next to me had bled all over my shirt hours ago.
Another mess.
Another name checked off the list.
The red stain had already dried to a dark rust at the sleeves.
I should have changed before now.
I should have taken a hot shower, stripped away the blood and grime, burned the evidence like I always did, but I hadn’t.
I’d been too irritated.
Too restless.
Too focused on finishing the job and getting the body in the ground before the weight of everything pressed in too tight.
But it was already pressing in, and the pressure hadn’t let up.
The anger. The exhaustion. The endless fucking questions.
They piled up inside me like a sickness I couldn’t purge no matter how deep I dug.
I paused for a moment, staring at the line of trees ahead.
My grip on the shovel tightened, the handle slick with sweat.
I was shaking.
Not from the work.
From everything else. From how I ended up in this fucking mess in the first place.
They say life is all about your choices.
But not for all of us.
Some of us were born into losing hands and told to play them anyway.
Some of us didn’t get to choose anything.
And if you’d seen what I’ve seen, you’d understand.
The innocent ones stripped of their dignity.
The futures stolen right out of their hands.
The screams…the ones from children are what haunt me the most.
Their voices are sharp, unrelenting echoes that slice and rip through my nights like broken glass on thin sheets.
Some sounds you can’t unhear, but I tried to bury those thoughts the same way I buried these sick men.
Deep.
Forcefully.
Making sure they never claw their way back up to find any form of forgiveness.
Not like forgiveness or salvation exists for men like this, or hell even men like me.
I had stopped believing in that a long time ago.
The day Castor and I were branded like cattle and handed over to the ENA like property.
We were trained, broken, rebuilt into something they felt useful.
Weapons that didn’t ask questions, didn’t feel and didn’t think beyond the job.
We weren’t men anymore.
We were tools and yet… some part of me still asked how it got to this.
When exactly had I stopped fighting back?
When had survival turned into servitude?
My thoughts were interrupted when I sensed it, a flicker at the edge of the field.
I stilled.
The shift was subtle, but I knew how to feel for it.
The way the air changed.
The quiet strain in the silence that didn’t belong.
I yanked out my earbuds, the music cutting off instantly.
Suddenly, everything around me felt too loud.
The distant hum of insects.
The wind rustling through the dry grass.
Something wasn’t right.
I slid my hand to the side holster, fingers wrapping around the cool grip of my gun.
Slow. Silent.
I moved into the shadows of the trees, letting them swallow me in their dark coverage.
Step by step, I closed the distance.
My pulse remained steady.
I had done this more times than I could count.
Hunting. Tracking. Finding. Ending.
And then I saw her.
Sage.
Standing at the edge of the tree line, her hair catching the faint gleam of moonlight, falling in loose waves down her back.
That beautiful shimmer of green at the tips.
The wind tugged at it gently, making it sway like sea grass underwater.
She was so still, but not in fear.
In knowing, like she could sense what I was feeling.
Like she was waiting for me.
I checked my watch.
9:11 PM.
Too late. Too dangerous.
She shouldn’t be here.
Was this a setup? Had Klay already found her? Had he sent her back to lure me in?
Panic clawed at my ribs, but I forced it down.
I was going to take her hostage. Get answers from her eventually.
I had a plan. A strategy that was on my terms.
Not like this.
I took another step forward, my boots whispering over dead leaves.
Deliberate. Unhurried.
She didn’t move.
Didn’t turn. but I saw something else.
The rise and fall of her shoulders.
The tension melting away as I approached, like she knew I was there, and wasn’t afraid.
Something about that undid me.
Fear made people tense and brace for impact.
But Sage—she softened.
She submitted to the fear, but the fight was still there.
Beneath the surface.
I recognized it. I knew it too well.
It was what made people dangerous. It was what made me dangerous.
My fingers twitched at my sides.
I needed to stay in control. I needed to walk away.
But I didn’t.
I stepped closer.
So close I could feel the warmth radiating off her skin.
I told myself not to touch her, and then I did anyway.
A single stroke down her right side.
Gliding from her shoulder to her hand, slow and deliberate.
Her skin was smooth like a petal beneath my fingertips, and I couldn’t help but let my hand linger longer than I should have.
Her breath caught, but she didn’t pull away.
Didn’t flinch as I leaned in.
Close enough for my breath to graze the curve of her neck.
Close enough to feel the shudder ripple through her.
I let my lips brush the rim of her ear. “You shouldn’t take what isn’t yours.”
She tensed. A tight, coiled reaction, but she didn’t speak.
Not right away.
And then— “I—” Her voice was faint and unsteady.
Unsteady.
She started to turn toward me, but my hand shot up, catching her jaw and stopping her.
Not rough, but unyielding. “Stay away, Sage.”
“I didn’t know,” she murmured, her voice stumbling. “I thought this was part of the preserve. The flowers… they’re so beautiful… I wasn’t trying to take anything or harm anything—”
“Leave.” Cold and final. One word because I didn’t know how much I would be able to muster out without losing control.
She hesitated. Her voice trembled when she spoke again. “Why are you being like this? I’m just trying to explain—”
And there it was.
The sincerity.
It cut through me like a blade and for a split second, I hated myself.
Hated the man I’d become, but I knew couldn’t afford softness.
Not with her and especially not now in my blood-soaked clothes.
I let the cruelty seep into my tone. “Because I don’t care.”
Her breath hitched.
Her eyes flickered—hurt, then guarded.
She covered it quickly. Too quickly.
Then— “I’m sorry.” Soft. Broken in a way that made me want to destroy something.
I exhaled, as the war started to rage inside me.
“You need to leave,” I said. “I’m not asking.”
She swallowed hard.
Her gaze held mine for a moment longer than it should have.
She didn’t want to leave.
I knew it. She knew I knew it. She could say it.
Instead, she exhaled shakily. Her voice a whisper. “Be careful what you ask for, Reich.”
My name in her mouth.
Like a fucking prayer or a goddamn curse.
It slammed into me harder than I expected.
A muscle ticked in my jaw. I clenched my fists at my sides, grounding myself. Then, rougher I responded— “You too, Sage.”
I let her go and her eyes widened, and for a second, something passed between us.
Something raw and undeniable.
And then— she broke.
Her face crumbled as she turned and ran.
Her footsteps quick and light as they faded into the darkness.
I stood there, breathing hard as I rubbed a hand down my face.
This wasn’t how I planned it.
I wanted control and strategy.
Not this.
Not her slipping through my fingers before I was ready.
I stared at the ground where she’d stood.
At the flowers she’d dropped, that were scattered like offerings, or perhaps, warnings.
Did she really not know this was private property?
Did she really not understand what she’d walked into?
I wanted to believe her. I wanted to trust what sounded like honesty in her voice and the purity she somehow portrayed in those green eyes, but I couldn’t.
Not with Klay still out there, and not with her name tied to his.
I turned back toward the trees.
Forcing my breathing to even out.
One way or another, she would be under my roof soon enough.
And when that time came— I would get my answers.
But for now?
I needed to send a stronger message.
Something that would break her spirit just enough to keep her away, until I was ready to claim her.
Because when I did… there would be no running.