Page 90 of Leave Me Behind
My mind is empty of everything that isn’t him. I only see our history. Our wounds.
He looks older now. The scars around his left cheekbone are from the night I last saw him. Two long, curved lines make his right jawline more severe. His eyes were never this dark and heartless. What horrors has he seen to have grown more indifferent than he already was?
His eyes widen as he recognizes me. Jenkins always had a slim figure, but the black tactical uniform he wears reveals that he’s bulked up in the past two years. There are so many things I want to ask him. So many things I want to say.
I can’t tell if what I’m feeling is happiness or heartbreak. He’s alive. But how could he be a part of this organization? What brought him tothis?
Jenkins takes a few breaths before looking at the masked man beside me. Darkness falls over his eyes when he sees the man’s dick is still out and in his hand. My veins chill as Jenkins walks casually over to us. The dullness in his eyes starts my heart again. I’m only the most savage soldier because I learned from him. He taught me everything. His thoughts are my thoughts.
Bradshaw watches with confusion and concern in his gaze. Our eyes meet for only a second before Jenkins speaks and steals my attention away.
His voice is gravelly, low. One I never thought I’d hear again but cling to desperately.
“And what is it you think you’re doing, Greg?” Jenkins asks with a completely blank expression. I watch quietly as Greg pulls off his mask and sets it at his side.
It’s then that I realize Greg isn’t the boss. My eyes lift back to Jenkins and he meets my gaze. Our souls linger for a moment, as if we’re testing the waters of time. Do we still know each other? Would we still kill for each other?
Jenkins is the leader of the Ghosts.
My thoughts get interrupted as Greg swallows and mutters, “Uh, well I was just going to have fun with—” Jenkins doesn’t wait for him to finish that sentence. He twirls his combat knife in his hand before plunging it into the side of Greg’s skull.
I’ve seen him kill like this hundreds of times. Maybe more. I don’t feel anything as Greg’s body violently convulses on the end of Jenkins’s blade before falling off the table and going still. Jenkins keeps hold of his knife and brain matter spills out. The gash in the side of Greg’s head twitches with probably his last flashbacks, if that’s even a mercy we get.
Jenkins takes a deep breath before removing his black gloves and dropping them on Greg’s lifeless body. He turns his attention to me and casts a curious look at Bradshaw, whose glare isn’t at all curious like Jenkins’s.
“Hey, Gallows.” His voice is midnight rain, his gaze filled with lost time and stolen kisses of the past.
It never made sense to me how quickly he could go from a murderer to a sweet-talking man in the blink of an eye.
My mouth firms with emotion. “Sir,” I say as calmly as I can, but my trembling hands give away my feelings.
He brushes back the hair around my ear softly. I fight not to shut my eyes at the endearment. God knows I want to lean into it, into him.
“What are you doing all the way out here?” His voice still has that caring tone that he only held for me. My entire being wants to become lost in it.
I falter. “A mission. To rescue the Hades Squad and to stop… you.” My heart is in my throat and he knows it. A few blond strands of hair fall over his forehead. He looks into my eyes like he’s memorizing each second of this.
“Rescue the Hades Squad? They joined of their own volition. Why the fuck would they rather be imprisoned to the dark forces than be a part of something so much bigger? They don’t need to be rescued. But you already knew that, didn’t you? You saw their gear.” My jaw tenses and he sighs. “I got you out, you know. No cards. No promised lies. You were supposed to be out of the underground after our last mission.” His eyes flick to Eren’s unconscious form. “But it seems you were never going to get away from this dark part of the world.”
“You got meout?” I repeat, not quite understanding. “Jenkins, how are you alive?” My voice wavers. There’s a weight growing deep in my chest; it feels like I’ll die if I take too deep of a breath.
He lets out a small sigh, then smiles with anguish brimming his eyes. “Yeah, I got hurt more than I expected, but my injuries weren’t life-threatening. I was originally going to have you killed with the rest of the squad, but you didn’t go out with the rest ofthem. I was already on the fence about it because, as silly as it was, I liked you. You were different. You had what it took to be like me. To stand here,” he spreads his arms wide and alludes to the fortress, “with me. Gallows, Iletyou live. I even let you choose whether I’d take you with me or not. But you chose to leave me behind, as I suggested. I knew you’d be a weakness to me and, look, fate still brought you here. Taunting me.”
He killed our squad. He planned for me to die there with them.
Something painful churns in my gut at those words.
Jenkins must see the pain in my eyes because he lifts his palm to my burning cheek. “Do you hate me, Nellie?” I think he’d be indifferent to it even if I did. But I can’t force my heart to hate him. Not when I just got him back.
I stare into his dark eyes with anguish.
His loose grin fills with hints of malice.
“I knew you couldn’t, even if you knew I was going to throw you away like trash. You were always foolishly loyal until the end.” His words sting, but I take it. My chin drops and I grit my teeth. “But in the end, it was me who was the fool. I loved you more than I could stand. I still do.” Jenkins brushes his lips across my cheek—his scent of a fresh storm hits my senses and makes me weak.
I missed him so much. But why does this hurt so badly? My body feels weak and sickness riles up my throat. It takes everything in me to keep from hugging him. No matter how badly I want his chest against mine and to feel his heart beating, I refuse to let myself reach for him.
Bradshaw shifts and draws Jenkins’s attention.
