Page 69 of Chaos Kills

Bay goes under the calm waves then, her black hair almost starting to blend with the depths of the dark ocean when I know she’s gone too far down.

Pulling her back up, this is the last time I’ll do it.

I’ve been out here long enough. I don’t want to look at her again. I just want her to die so everyone else can go on with their lives. So I can gain some tranquility in my head.

Bay surfaces, spitting water, and fighting for air. Beautiful black strands of hair are plastered to the perfect edges of her face as I hold on tightly to the rope digging into the flesh of my hand.

“You killed my fucking brother,” I sneer down at her, not sure if she can hear me because of all the water and gasping. “You thought you were going to skate through and get under all of our skins and then what? You fucking lied to me the moment you let me sink my cock inside you. You made me betray my brother. You made me hate you.”

“T-t-torin, stop,” she tries to yell. “P-p-please.”

The water is cold; we’re in the fucking Atlantic, for fuck’s sake. However, it has to be done.

I have to do this.

“I hope I never see you in hell,” I convey through my teeth, feeling the burn of tears behind my eyes. I love her. I’ve loved her more than anything. “I know I’ll be there, but I swear to God, I hope you’re at the deepest level that place will go, you fucking bitch.”

I take one last look at her, blue eyes connecting with mine at that exact moment, and I drop the line.

“Torin! T-t-orin—” I don’t hear her anymore. Just the splashing of water and then nothing.

The brown rope disappears, and I wait for it—the relief. The chaos to stop ping-ponging in my head.

But all I feel is anxious.

Extremely fucking anxious and worried.

This fucking bitch.

I turn away from the empty ocean, looking at the steering wheel of the boat and the extended front of plush seats lined in red. The emptiness of the small space with just me.

Silence.

It pricks at me…over and over and over again.

She’s gone.

She’s gone.

She’s gone.

My chest tightens, but I ignore it.

I’m just fucking drunk. She’s dead.

Reeve will get over it. Cairo won’t care. Emilio will order a search party, but he’ll give up eventually. Levi Wallace will blame one of us, which will probably start a war.

I don’t care.

If I die, I die, whatever.

What’s to live for anyway? Money, drugs, guns, and territory? My brothers will be fine. Ozzy will be free.

Ozzy.

I can’t see that look on his face. He’s already lost everything else.

I have, too.

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