Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Bellamy
They were young and naive when they took their first contract nine years ago. Fresh out of the academy, they worked well together, and they were in the midst of that new relationship bliss. It seemed like a good idea for them, for their future.
The Embunuh Organization was huge, full of opportunity. Every assassin was vying for a contract. It was one of the most sought-after jobs they could get—the pay and benefits were rumored to be the best. They were lucky to have been noticed, to have been offered a contract.
At least, that was what everyone told them.
They’d worked hard, climbed up the ranks, made a name for themselves together.
It had all been so exciting at the start.
By the time they found out what really went on, how the Embunuh kept their contracts for so long, it was too late.
They were trapped. That was just how it worked—the Embunuh is fucked up, corrupt. It shouldn’t have been a surprise.
Vesper had always wanted more from life though.
She dreamed of exploring, traveling to another planet—the weird garden one with an unbreathable atmosphere, for some reason.
Bellamy wanted to give her that. She’d give Vesper anything just to see that excited shine in her eyes.
A glimmer Bellamy hadn’t seen in years—not until she’d pointed out the Moon Bison in the trolley…
Bellamy had tried to find ways to make money. They hadn’t needed to be rich, just needed enough to let their contract expire and be able to survive for a bit. Enough to find a more flexible job so they could actually travel. It wasn’t much, really.
That was how Bellamy had gotten into the cards. She’d always had a good brain for numbers and strategy, and her training taught her how to avoid getting caught. Gambling seemed like a good idea at first. Especially when she was fucking good at it.
She’d gotten enough money squirreled away that she was only a couple good days away from freeing them. And as an added bonus, she’d done it all without Vesper knowing—a surprise. Or, it would have been.
Then something happened. It ruined them, possibly forever.
It had taken Bellamy a while to figure out that Cedar worked for their employers.
It made sense though. The Embunuh Organization tracked their assassins closer than Bellamy had realized.
They’d found out one of their top contracts was about to walk, so they sent in Cedar.
Unassuming little herbalist to ruin fucking everything.
Vesper didn’t know, of course, and Bellamy couldn’t tell her.
She didn’t know if Cedar was fucking Vesper because their employers told her to, or if it was her vindictive little way of making Bellamy’s life worse.
Regardless, Vesper could not know. Bellamy wouldn’t let Vesper get dragged through the shit with her.
Besides, Cedar had threatened to kill Vesper if Bellamy stepped out of line.
And then she had expertly positioned herself to make good on that threat.
Bellamy had been nearly frozen with fear when Vesper admitted to spending the night with Cedar so soon after she destroyed the papers Bellamy had stolen.
Cedar had been livid when Bellamy reported that she’d failed.
Bellamy’s fear the morning after quickly morphed into anger and betrayal, so of course, she took it out on Vesper.
She couldn’t help it. Ves hadn’t known how close she’d come to death, and Bellamy was utterly powerless to prevent it.
She’d failed, and now this was her punishment. Cedar was fucking toying with her.
Bellamy couldn’t do anything. Her actions that night, all those years ago, had given Cedar such an advantage over her, it was laughable.
Bellamy had made Vesper hate her. She’d chosen that path for them.
Forced their fights when Vesper tried to push back, to smooth things over.
Bellamy ruined them, and drove Vesper straight to Cedar.
At the time, she didn’t even know she’d done it. Bellamy just thought she’d been protecting Vesper—if they hated each other, how could they use Vesper to control her? It would keep Vesper safe, even if Bellamy wasn’t.
But Vesper fucked up too. She didn’t know it, but she did. In that trolley, when she comforted Bellamy, when she proved that she still cared. Beyond all reason, some part of Vesper—no matter how small—still cared for Bellamy. And that had absolutely broken her.
Thinking back, there had been so many times when Bellamy could have saved their relationship. So many mistakes she didn’t have to make. She hadn’t moved out when Vesper first tried to kick her out, instead digging her feet in and refusing—that might have been the biggest mistake.
They’d been fighting more. Bellamy had made sure of it.
She’d pushed Vesper away with everything she had.
Vesper had found out about the gambling, so Bellamy didn’t need to hide it anymore.
She started playing every night, for hours.
She’d also gotten desperate—sloppy. She lost more, got caught cheating, got marked as a cheat.
She’d managed to dig herself so deep into debt that she didn’t think she’d ever get out.
Of course, Vesper didn’t have a healthy coping mechanism for their problems either. Just that hers wasn’t losing money quite as fast.
Bellamy remembered like it was just yesterday—the day it truly felt like she’d lost Vesper.
Vesper had always come home, always, no matter how bad their fights were, no matter how much she’d drank—until one night, she didn’t.
Bellamy had stayed out all night searching for her, worried sick, searching until she was practically asleep on her feet.
She’d trudged her way back up to their apartment—Vesper’s apartment—to collapse on the bed and hope Vesper would show back up at some point.
Vesper didn’t come back until morning. She’d finally stumbled back in, and Bellamy wasn’t sure which was worse: the knowing or the not knowing.
Her eyes were red like she hadn’t slept, and her breath smelt of booze. That was all to be expected. That didn’t hurt. Not much. But when Bellamy took in her disheveled appearance and noted the suffocating wave of lavender rolling off her, she knew.
And Bellamy lost her shit on Vesper.
She couldn’t believe it. Bellamy knew she’d pushed Vesper away, made Vesper hate her, but she never once thought Vesper would be so desperate to get away from her that she’d blow that much money.
The fact that she was willing to stay the entire night with a whore instead of coming home to face Bellamy and their shitty situation only broke her more.
“I didn’t think the whores were supposed to accept drunks,” Bellamy hissed at her, all her fear pinpointed to rage.
“They don’t,” Vesper replied. She sounded tired. “It wasn’t like that. I was just…” She sighed and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
Bellamy packed up her shit and left that day, showing up at her brother's house with two duffle bags and a pile of regret. She’d been living with him ever since.
A part of her had hoped that it wouldn’t take that long for her and Vesper to get back on track.
That she’d be able to get Cedar off her back, and it would be safe again.
They would reconcile. They belonged together. Bellamy had been so sure of it. So sure that she hadn’t bothered finding her own place. She had to focus all her energy on fixing this fucking mess she’d gotten them into.
It was too late anyway. They were done. Bellamy had broken them beyond repair.
She tried to find positives—she’d always hated their apartment anyway.
She’d hated how the whores would look at Vesper, how Vesper would look back, claiming she was friends with some of them.
It wasn’t that Bellamy didn’t trust Vesper, she just knew how the whores could be.
They were professionals, and they were fucking good at their jobs.
She was right to hate it. Vesper fell into them once, and she’d never stopped. But that anger was too raw for Bellamy to hold onto. Every time she tried, it only resulted in tears. She couldn’t truly hate it either. It kept Vesper out of trouble, kept her safe—that might have been worse.