And there it was.
The gauntlet sliced.
The head rolled.
The soul died.
I kept my emotions neutral. “Walk? From what?”
“This.” She sniffled again and finally looked at me. “I can’t do it, Chase, I can barely stomach it. I thought if I just pretended that I’d eventually turn into this, this monster of my own making, but instead, it gets harder and harder, and he—” She cursed. “He likes it. No, he loves it. He loves this life. He loves… killing.”
“Is this your way of saying you want our enemies alive?”
“No!” Her head jerked up. “It’s just… I know he would never hurt me, but sometimes in his sleep he says random names, he taunts them, and then he kills, it’s like a sport to Ash—you’ve made him this monster, and I can’t help but see blood every time I see his face. It’s going to destroy him unless we leave. Chase, we have to leave.”
They weren’t going anywhere.
“The only out clause for my son is death, Claire…” I waited, tilting my head as goosebumps seemed to rise and scatter over her flesh and her eyes seemed to flicker away like she was trying to keep all her secrets inside but struggling with the quantity of them. I made a mental note to talk to Nikolai later. “For you… it would need to be the same.”
“I understand.”
The chair creaked as I shifted my position and leaned in. “You would die before living this life, Claire. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I would die before letting this life destroy him.” She clenched her teeth. “I would die for him to live, to truly live.”
I cursed under my breath. “You were never strong enough.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” she screamed as she finally grew enough balls to fully face me, her expression tight. “I know what I’m capable of; I also know what he’s capable of. I can’t bring him back from this, Chase. I can’t. I don’t know how. My love is as strong as my fear, and that’s not fair to him. It’s not fair to us! Or anyone. If he goes off the deep end, I don’t think I’ll ever get him back, and I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve a madman killer with so much blood on his hands he laughs in his sleep in order to take away the pain.”
I leaned in, my free hand cupping her face. “So. Fucking. Weak.”
She jerked her face away. “I’ve made up my mind.”
“And you’ll die for it,” I whispered. “There is no resurrection story here, Claire.”
“You know what’s sad?” She shook her head. “Is I know what this will do to him. And still… I truly believe I’m saving his life.”
“No.” I sighed. “You’re ruining it. You will be the final nail in the coffin, Claire. You’re afraid of the monster he’ll become? Well, congratulations. You’ve just created him.” I stood. “My assistant will see you out. We’ll be in touch.”
She nodded wordlessly and rose to her feet, then she slowly walked toward the door, head held high like a fucking pageant queen.
I would kill her if it would save him.
Instead, she was going to kill herself.
How the hell did I let this happen?
Where he saw strength, I’d always seen weakness.
And now I knew the truth.
We’d trusted her too soon.
Never again.
“Claire?” I called after her. “Take a few days to decide.”
“It’s decided.”
I expelled a sigh. “I was afraid you’d say that.” I walked back around to my desk and sat, folding my hands in front of my face as I spoke. “I’m extremely disappointed in you.”
She lowered her head as my assistant opened the door to escort her out. “You’ll see, Chase. You’ll see.”
Funny. I already did.
And if my son didn’t love her so damn much—I would have put a bullet between her eyes the minute she opened her fucking mouth.
“Chase?” Tank said my name as he took a seat in that same green chair. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“Some of it,” I lied. “Just repeat the important parts. I have a busy day ahead of me.”
He snorted out a laugh as he crossed his denim-clad legs and leaned back in the chair like he had all the time in the world.
I shook my head. “Your black beanie looks ridiculous. Take it off, you aren’t in Pearl Jam.”
He frowned. “Who?”
“God, I hate Millennials.”
“I’m a Z—”
“Yeah, don’t really care.” I waved him off. “Speak.”
The chair groaned as he leaned forward. I had to hand it to Ash. With all his anger, he needed more and more sparring partners, and he’d made Tank into… well, an actual Tank. In the last year, he’d put on thirty pounds of muscle. Impressive, even for one of our associates.
It was another reason I let him stick around; he was like a walking talking body shield for my family.