“You took what wasn’t yours,” I bit out. “You had no right.”
“No!” He snapped. “You had no right. You had no fucking right, which was why you had to be taught a lesson. You and the rest of those fuckers in your team.”
“A team you slaughtered.”
A maniacal laugh rumbled from his chest, spilling from his lips. Steel chains rattled and complained as his body swung from side to side. “One by one we butchered them like pigs.”
I allowed it. I let him finish his little theatrical display of delirium, blowing out the match between my fingers and letting it drop to the ground. He’d be dead soon enough.
“You were the last one.” His glare settled on me. “I kept the best for last. Every kill, every broken bone was nothing more than a step closer to the one I really wanted. You.”
Every muscle was taut, tense, seconds away from bursting with rage.
He smiled eerily. “The night I came for you, I got to look on the inside of your tiny little bubble. A world far from ours. And I knew killing you wouldn’t be enough. I wanted you to suffer.” His jaw clenched, his every word toxic. “So, I made sure your entire goddamn world burned down around you…one drop of blood at a time.”
My withered heart stirred to life with a shock of pain I had only ever experienced that night. My insides twisted, my chest breaking around my lungs, making it impossible to breathe without it hurting. It was too much, memories slamming into the darkness that filled my thoughts. I heard the screams, the pleas, followed by the worst silence a man could ever hear. The pain was too fresh, too fucking real for me to keep the control I needed for this scene to play out the way I had dreamed of every goddamn day since my world collapsed. It was the day I died.
I grabbed a jagged knife, stormed forward, splitting his flesh with the steel. I jerked my arm with every ounce of strength I had, snarling as I shoved the blade deep into his stomach. Without blinking, I watched as his mouth gaped, blood pouring out at the sides, down his jaw and onto his chest.
“This is for her.” With force, I dragged the knife up, feeling how the sharp, jagged edges carved through him, gnawing its way up, tearing through his insides, reaching his chest. “And this is for me.”
It was a moment of weakness. A moment I allowed the darkness back in, the shadows raking their claws into my chest. I was back in that room, staring into the eyes of the devil. The man who had laid out the path toward a fate I had no choice but to accept.
A fate that attached the demons of my past to my shadow—always following me wherever I went.
And here I was, glaring into Oakley’s eyes, wanting nothing more than to break his skull against the concrete wall. He reeked of arrogance which everyone around him mistook for confidence. I knew how to read people. It was part of my job in the past. To read people and dig for their deepest secrets within the shortest amount of time. If seeing them wasn’t possible, I’d get ahold of every bit of information I could get my hands on. From their height, weight, blood type, right to their favorite goddamn breakfast beverage. I also learned never to walk into a cave without finding out which monsters lurked in its darkest corners. It’s how I managed to survive this long; by knowing which obstacles to expect.
This rich frat boy wasn’t supposed to be an obstacle. He was a fucking blip on the big picture and not worth losing my shit over. But here I was, ready to hand him his ass on a silver fucking platter because I had this warped need to protect Sienna, unable to breathe through the anger.
It was only when I felt her gentle touch on my arm that I inhaled. Her hand was cold, yet her fingers burned my skin—the fire forcing me to regain control.
I pulled away and stepped back, wiping the sweat from my face with my arm.
Oakley crouched over, his hands on his knees as he coughed and sucked in air. “You fucking psycho!”
I looked at Sienna. She didn’t rush to Oakley’s side. Instead, she stood there watching me, clutching the sheet tight against her chest. Her green eyes were faintly woven with lines of gold. Not even the trees could match their luster. But the way she stared at me, her plump, rosy lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed, I saw the uncertainty in her eyes. The fear. It was like sharp nails against my bones. But there was something else embedded in the way she looked at me. It hummed with whispers of desire, and it made me hyperaware of how fucking beautiful she was. Sunrays kissed her vibrant red hair, the shadows of the oak tree leaves dancing across her ivory skin, the vision of her searing my veins.
“Are you okay?” Her voice was soft. Too soft. Too caring. At first, I thought she was speaking to Oakley, yet her eyes remained fixed on mine. Why would she care whether I was okay or not? She hardly knew me. I was nothing but a stranger to her—a man she kissed on a whim with the intention to incite jealousy, but instead, she ignited a flicker that burned brighter every time our eyes met.
“Noah, are you okay?” Her eyes narrowed as if she was trying to figure me out. “You seemed…like you were somewhere else.”
Yeah. In hell. And I can’t drag you down here, too.
Oakley coughed, his voice hardly audible. “What the fuck you asking him for? Fucker almost killed me.”
She hardly acknowledged him at all, not even looking his way. All her attention was on me. Just me.
You’re treading on dangerous ground.
“I’m fine.” I broke eye contact and clutched my sides with my hands. “Get your boyfriend out of here. The last thing I need is to get involved in some rich girl’s adolescent love affairs.”
I turned around and stomped off before her faltered expression would make me regret what I had just said. Fuck knows why I even cared about any of this—why I got involved.
Oakley wasn’t supposed to bug the shit out of me. But Sienna wasn’t supposed to provoke this possessive fucker in me either. When I accepted this job, I thought it was the perfect place to lay low for a while. Sienna Whitlock was nothing more than a name on a piece of paper in the background file I acquired of her father. She wasn’t supposed to get close, and she sure as fuck wasn’t supposed to kiss me. That was the moment shit changed—the moment I felt her warm lips against mine. A single goddamn moment, and everything got warped. If I had arrived two seconds later that night, she wouldn’t have kissed me, and I wouldn’t have had this twisted instinct to act like she was mine.
She wasn’t mine. She would never be mine…
Because I’d ruin her, too.