I move past everyone to stand in front of him. I offer him a weak smile.
“I’m sorry Tessa. I wish..” He starts then stops mid-sentence.
“I know, Sparky. If we could change time.” I rub his arms. “You’ll help me plan something, yes?”
He nods. We need closure. We need to have a moment to say goodbye. I pull him into a hug, his leather cut biting into the embrace.
Alexander takes me home, not saying a word. The roads become a blur. It doesn’t take long before we make it back to my house. As soon as I get inside, I go to the kitchen, find the nearest liquor bottle, and twist off the cap. I know it’s not the healthy way to grieve, but fuck it to hell.
The front door swings open, the screen door creaking shut. Seamus’s little paws hit the hardwood floor. I crouch down on the kitchen floor, letting my body sink down. Alexander’s heavy boots collide with the wood, inching closer to me. He attempts to whisk the bottle away, but I growl at him like a feral dog, Seamus perking his ears up.
“If you care about me, you’ll take your hands off my bottle and shut up.” I yank the bottle back and take a swig.
“I know you’re hurting but..” he starts, and my eyes go cold. Wrong words to say.
I laugh. “Hurting isn’t the word to describe it. I failed.” All the pent up emotions I’ve been pushing down for the past few hours are now surfacing. My anger, my fury, comes alive.
“I failed one of the most innocent people I know. So yeah, it fucking hurts. And you know what?” I stand up, towering over him, slamming the bottle down. “I started the fire. I started her death sentence. That night, I went to the nest and sent a message to the Falcons. I know this is them!” I start walking, before his booming voice yells after me.
“Don’t walk away. You have a habit of doing that.”
I turn around and shove him. “I’m not walking away from you. I’m walking away from the stupidity that might come out of my mouth.” I jerk my head up to stare into his eyes. “I failed her. I put her in harm's way. That should have been me on that table,” I yell out. It should have been me. That last one I don’t say for fear what would come.
Alexander takes a step closer to me, but I jerk back, keeping my distance. I shake my head, fearful that anything else I might say would be out of anger.
“You didn’t fail her. This isn’t your fault,” Alexander says softly.
“It’s not her fault either,” I cry out. He steps closer. I move away.
“I know. Unfortunately, she was in the crossfire of a war the Falcons started. You can’t blame yourself. You can only do so much.” He slowly takes a step forward. “I know you want to help everyone. One of the things I love about you is that you want to care and protect everyone. So much compassion can be exhausting.”
I shake my head, my body shuddering as I take a breath. “I should have known better than to think everyone was safe. Her death is on my hands, so don’t stand there and tell me it isn’t.” I’m yelling now, screaming with frustration. “Her blood soaks my hands and I can’t do anything about it.” I step towards him and hit his chest. He takes a step back.
“That’s it. Hit me, cut me, use me! Take what you need.” he says. I huff out a breath. “Maybe I should have stopped you that night. Maybe we could have done something more.” With each of his words, I smack his chest, punch his sides, screaming my frustration out.
“That’s it. Harder, Little Cub,” he growls out. I raise my fists again and again. “Tell me who’s to blame.”
“Me.” Again and again.
“No! Who’s to blame?” he asks again.
Hit after hit, my knuckles and hands ache with pain. I slow down, my body ready to slump to the ground.
“The Falcons.” I let my hands fall to my sides. The white hot anger has dissipated.
“There she is. There’s my wild cub.” He takes my head in his hands, kissing it softly. “We’re going to end them.” A moment goes by, wiping the tears, and trying to compose myself.
“I want their heads. I want their blood to drip from my fingers.”
“My ravenous cub.” He lets me sink into his body, keeping it from slamming to the floor. He scoops me into his arms and takes us to the bedroom. Sleep came hard like a train.
Chapter 27
It’sbeentwoweekssince Lucie passed. The first week was the hardest: keeping up appearances, avoiding interviews after someone leaked that Lucie had gone through our program. We held her service and burial last Saturday. Not only did Foundation employees come to the service, but the club came to pay their respects as well. Fortunately, the day was clear, but the air was heavy. I can still see Sparky’s heartbreak; I don’t know how close they were, but his eyes looked lost, distant. Now, though, I want revenge. It’s part of the grieving process to feel anger and acknowledge it, but this goes beyond anger. I want to see the Falcons fall. I want to see their empire fall and burn.
Rawlings calls for a meeting tonight and honestly, it’s about damn time. I just have to get through the work day. I’m looking forward to walking Aggie through the new building today. I’m not saying I’m back to normal, but doing something good helps me feel a little bit closer to it.
A knock at my door pulls me from my thoughts. Carla stands in my doorway, carrying a mountain of files. I haven’t seen her since the chaos of the masquerade. She clears her throat, like I hadn’t already noticed her presence.