Page 11 of A Past Too Broken

As quietly as possible, I creep into the room and close the door behind me. It latches with a quietsnick, but I still hear it; every sense is in overdrive and hyperaware.

Tentative steps take me to the door opposite the one I came in through. The rest of the house lies behind this door, and if I close my eyes, I can see the entire layout.

I have a gun and knife on me, as well as a vial of poison. I couldn’t choose. There are so many ways I imagine this day, and choosing which is hard, so I brought them all. I’ll decide when I’m face to face withhim.

Pulling my knife out, I set my hand on the doorknob, take a slow, deep breath, and remind myself this is it. After tonight, I can lay my demons to rest.

Stepping into the kitchen has my heart racing. I close my eyes for a moment, shoving down the fear, anger, and despair that want to rise and consume me.

On quick but silent feet, I make my way through the kitchen to the living room. The smell of cigarettes hangs in the air and I wrinkle my nose. It’s almost overpowering, choking me. Unlike the one time I was close enough to Zay to smell the cigarette smoke on him; then, it hadn’t bothered me. Whether it was because I wasn’t conscious long enough, or because it wasZay, I don’t know. I’d rather not analyze it.

The living room is dark, the curtains opened just enough to let some of the light in. Thankfully, it’s a clear winter night, so there’s enough moonlight for me to navigate the room by.

The hallway leading to the bedrooms is short, with only a bathroom between the two rooms. Pausing at the first door, I slowly open it, taking a quick peek inside, but nothing but the smell of mildew greets me. I close the door, careful not to slam it closed.

Bypassing the bathroom, I head straight for the other bedroom, knife at the ready, body thrumming with the need for this to be over with already.

I’m a step away from reaching for the doorknob when I’m grabbed from behind. A large, meaty hand covers my mouth, and a gasp lodges in my throat.

“You thought you were so clever,” he says into my ear. “You seem to have forgotten who taught you everything you know.”

Flipping the knife in my hand, I change the grip, preparing for the fight ahead. He chuckles, and the sound sends shivers down my spine. Every repressed emotion rises to the surface, and even though I struggle in his grip, he anticipates my moves and holds me tightly against him.

The feel of his body pressed to mine makes my stomach roll, and bile sears the back of my throat.

Being back here—at the scene of the crime, so to speak—is harder than I anticipated. I’ve spent years waiting for this moment. So much time spent training and planning on how to kill the literal monster in my nightmares, but nowhere in all those plans did I factor in the mental and emotional toll it would take.

I worked hard on becoming what I needed to be in order to kill those who deserved it, buried all the memories and emotions that didn’t suit me or my cause.

So lost in my own thoughts and impending meltdown, I’m not prepared for him. He disarms me, and searing hot pain rushes through my body, cutting through the building panic.

“You’re pathetic,” he snarls, pulling the knife out and throwing me to the ground. “I should have killed you years ago.”

He walks away, leaving me bleeding out in the hallway of my childhood home.

“This is why we have streaming services,” I tell Reggie, shutting the TV off after running across another damn Christmas movie. Seriously, I know ‘tis the season and all that, but it’s ridiculous. We still have a week before the holiday is upon us.

Reggie purrs his agreement and lays next to me. Setting my hand on his back, I absentmindedly pet him while scrolling through social media. I don’t spend much time online, but it’s good to have for appearances. Keeping up the facade that I’m nothing but a boring cat dad with an equally boring consulting job that takes me away from home far more than I’d like is rather time consuming.

My phone rings, startling both me and Reggie, and we stare at the device for a long moment. The number is the same one I both look forward to and dread, and seeing it now has my stomach and heart doing weird things.

Before the call ends, I make up my mind and answer. “Hello?”

There’s a lot of static and then rustling, and just before I hang up,hisvoice comes over the line.“I… I need your help.”

Sitting forward, I grip my phone with one hand and my loose hanging hair with the other. Reggie protests that I’m no longer petting him, but right now my needy cat isn’t important.

“Where are you, Min?”

“I…”Heavy breathing and a few curses before he speaks again.“I think I got the wound cleaned, but fuck… it hurts.”

“Where. Are. You?” I grind out.

He rattles off an address that is, thankfully, in the city. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t fucking move.”

A strained laugh meets my ears.“Yeah, no plans of that. Hurry.”

I hang up, jump to my feet, and shove my phone in the pocket of my sweats. Reggie stares up at me, judgment in his blue eyes.

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