Page 8 of Tragic Empire
There still isn’t a hint of fear in his eyes, only an air of longing creeps up to the surface. He doesn’t want to die, but he’s resigned to the fact that it’s going to happen. Silent tears pour down my face as a whine catches in my throat.
“Go numb,” he mouths again. “For me.”
Retreating into my mind while it feels like the world is crashing in around me isn’t easy. In fact, it hurts. It burns like nothing else I’ve ever felt.
I’ve practiced this very method time and time again, but it’s never felt so awful before. It’s never been so difficult to disappear into the secure and dark corner hidden in the back of my mind.
Still, I fight the instinct to beg, plead and hysterically cry for mercy. Using every technique Cole has instilled in me to shut out the darkness surrounding us. My conscious mind flees, crawling on broken hands and withered knees to a guarded space in my head. A place where Cole and I are perfectly safe.
The heartache and panic brewing inside of me begins to soften and as I blink to clear my foggy sight, I see him smile. His teeth, stained with the remnants of bright blood, are the last peaceful thing I witness.
“Any last words?”
“Yeah,” his voice rasps. “See you in Hell, you fucking cunt.”
A piercing bang rings out, and Cole’s whole body goes stiff.
A single hole blooms between his eyes with thick crimson goo.
I hear myself screaming and recognize my throat aching with the strain of it. But I don’t feel the pain, I don’t feel anything. Not really.
I’m an empty shell, just as he trained me to be. So, no matter how hard they try to carve me up, they won’t find me.
But they don’t try to find me. They don’t even attempt it. Not as they untie me and I claw my way to Cole. Not as my hands slip in his blood and I shake his body, trying to will him back to life. No one attempts to kill me, or even inflict any sort of physical pain.
Instead, I’m shoved out of the building and sent away. I’m told to go home to tell the tale of horrors that I’ve just witnessed.
In a daze, I find my car waiting for me, realizing that this event was far more thoroughly planned than I could have imagined. They crashed into Killian’s SUV and had my vehicle fetched at the same time. I was always meant to be left standing, and I don’t understand why.
Even though my eyes remain open, everything seems to go dark.
My custom-built walls begin to crack with every minute that passes, and I know that my time is limited. I won’t make it home before my resolve detonates.
But I know somewhere closer than home.
ChapterThree
Ana
The whole time Jade takes care of me, the memory of today plays on a loop. Every horrible moment of it won’t seem to fade away, continuing to torment me while I fight to stay sane.
Hot steam fills my nose as warm water cascades around the tiled space. It should be comforting, but even as the bitter chill from outside washes away, my sadness stands firm. I wish I could wake up from this nightmare, but it seems this one is here to stay.
Sitting on the built-in bench of the shower, I look up at the woman scrubbing blood from my skin and breathe out. Before Jade, most of my friendships were cemented for the benefit of connections and considered acquaintances more than anything else.
I would never let any of them help me the way I’m letting Jade. She has me in her bedroom shower, stripped of everything except for my underwear. Minutes ago, she didn’t even hesitate to drop her own clothes to get in with me. Leaving us both in a state of undress that would be scandalous if not for the circumstances.
Without making me talk, she sat me down on the small, tiled bench in the corner and began to wash me carefully. It hasn’t been awkward or uncomfortable for me so far, and it doesn’t seem to be for her either.
Squeezing out the once clean washcloth, she sends pink-tinted water down the drain. It’s disturbing how easy it is for water to dilute something as meaningful and important as blood.
“Are you sick?” I eventually ask, looking at her through wet lashes.
Jade shakes her head with a forced smile. “I’m not sick. Dmitri shouldn’t have said anything. We should all be focusing on you.”
I shrug, blinking some water away. “The distraction is nice.”
Nice is too strong of a word. I’m not sure anything will ever beniceagain. It feels impossible to imagine. But the distraction will help, I think. At least it will put something else into focus, forcing some of the dreadful memories to dull.
