Page 29 of Dominion

I wanted that revenge for me. For the girl I used to be. For the dreams Judah took from me. For every single tear, every single drop of blood, every single little pill, he gave me. My teeth felt as if they would break from the force I was grinding them with, my eyes flickering between the window of the car and a sleeping Dylan. Even when we arrived at the house in the middle of the night, where Zoe was already waiting on the front porch, hugging herself against the cold that descended on this town as well, I couldn’t let go of that one singular word—revenge.

From the moment we exited the car—me leading Dylan to my room and ignoring everyone else—to right now, where I sat at the dining table in the room, my hands wrapped around the steaming cup of coffee I made myself, I promised all those victims who came before me that this would end with me.

I expected Ash to come to me, to talk, yell, tell me how much he hated me, but I hadn’t seen him since we exited the cars. I didn’t miss the glare he shot my way as I led Dylan inside. I also didn’t miss the sadness clouding him when he thought I wasn’tlooking. But if he didn’t want to talk, then there was nothing I could do to change it right now. I would give him his space, but I wouldn’t let go.

The house was quiet, apart from the occasional sound of the pipes from the first floor, and the footsteps I could hear from the room above the kitchen. I was all alone and I liked it. Zoe had taken one look at my face when I came down, and whatever it was that she wanted to say as she opened her mouth, died a quick death because she never said it.

I wasn’t sure I would’ve listened if I was being honest.

A bone-deep tiredness slowly settled, making me drag my limbs from the moment I got Dylan into the shower, but my mind was far from tired. A kaleidoscope of pictures ran in front of my eyes as I sipped on my coffee, but my mouth failed to sense the taste of the caffeine I so desperately needed. The live wire holding me together was close to snapping, and if I didn’t move from this one spot, I would go crazy.

I couldn’t talk to Dylan about the things that have happened over the past three days because I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t talk to Ash because he was obviously angry at me. Cillian was an option, but the last thing I wanted to do right now was go upstairs and see the pity in his eyes. Zoe would’ve tried to make things better, to make me see the light at the end of this shitshow that was my life right now, and optimism wasn’t something I was ready for.

The edges of my vision blurred, my eyes focusing on the dark liquid in the mug that started getting cold minutes ago. My stomach churned from the lack of food, but just like over the past couple of days, the mere thought of eating wasn’t as appealing as it should’ve been.

“Are you going to keep staring at that mug or are you actually going to drink that coffee?” a voice boomed around the kitchen, pulling me back from my reverie. Tiredly, I looked up,seeing a smug smile on Indigo’s face, masking the concern he so obviously felt if his fisted hands were anything to go by. “Can you make me one?” he asked, stepping inside, appearing nonchalant in his movements, but I knew better. I could recognize the anxiety living on the surface of his skin, in the way he flexed his muscles, the way his eyes flickered over me as if he was looking for signs of distress. But I knew he wouldn’t find any because I had no idea how to feel.

This state of numbness wasn’t something I anticipated, but after all the worrying, all the panic, all those dark thoughts while we planned and looked for Dylan and Ash, I was now left with a numbness so severe that even the burn I got from the hot water didn’t faze me.

I simply felt nothing. Some part of my brain recognized how bad it was, slipping into the old patterns. But old habits die hard, and in the past, whenever I felt like this—powerless, weak in the eyes of the world—I chose the easiest way that could help me cope.

Numbness meant that my chest didn’t feel tight every time I thought about Dylan, who was sleeping now, or an angry Ash. Numbness, this nothingness, meant that my hands didn’t twitch every time I thought about Judah.

It also meant that I could cope with the harsh reality I didn’t want to be a part of.

It was tiring, this constant fight, this constant need to be on the lookout. It was getting old, living in this darkness, in this state of fear, where I had no idea when the next thing would happen. Because they always did. They always fucking happened and there was nothing I could do to stop them.

Indigo was one of the guys who stayed back with Chiara. Seeing his face, the apologetic look even before he spoke the words, told me everything I needed to know.

They failed to catch Judah.

Maybe I should’ve felt scared, or angry, just something, some kind of emotion, but the numbness cloaked it, pushed it back from me, hugging my body with a vise grip, its unforgiving arms tightening and tightening, leaving no space for anything else.

“You didn’t catch him,” I said, more as a statement than a question, just as Indigo sat opposite of me, entwining his fingers on top of the table. My eyes zeroed in on the dark ink traveling over his neck, disappearing into the blue thermal shirt he wore. I wondered what it was like, having a family that cared about you. Having people love you no matter what you’ve done.

I wondered what it was like being in Indigo’s shoes, Ophelia’s or even Storm’s. They had their own demons to battle, but right now, I was feeling pretty pathetic and I wanted to think that these other people had it better, even though I knew it wasn’t true.

Maybe it wasn’t the same fight, but it was a fight, nonetheless.

But thinking about the struggles other people went through was the only way I could stop the ominous thoughts from creeping in.

What if Judah came back?

What if he pulled something similar?

What if we couldn’t catch him?

“I’m sorry, Sky.” Indigo huffed, taking my coffee from me. “We searched the entire forest, but the visibility is terrible right now. There was no way that we could find him.”

“I understand.” And I did. I really, really did, but it didn’t mean I had to like it. As a matter of fact, something ugly unfurled inside my chest, something dark and sinister, pushing me to get up and get out of here. Every nerve ending in my body screamed at me to go, to find him myself, to give Judah what he wanted the most—me. To stop this insanity where he targeted the people I loved the most.

“Sky.” The warning was clear in Indigo’s voice, pulling my eyes to his. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t.” I wouldn’t. No matter how much I wanted to get out and do something insanely stupid—and trust me, I knew it was stupid—I couldn’t do that to Dylan or to Ash, even if one of them hated me right now more than he loved me. “I wouldn’t do that again.”

Narrowing his eyes at me, Indigo huffed, leaned back and slowly relaxed as he sniffed my coffee. “I’ll trust it when I see it,” he murmured, lifting the cup to his lips. “What the fucking fuck is this?” he sputtered, coughing, his face screwing up the moment my coffee touched his lips. “Why’s it so sweet?”

“It’s vanilla latte.” I snickered. “I like it when it’s sweet.”

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