Page 15 of Ashfall
“You have no idea what I’ve done Brodie, if you did-”
My manic laugh stops whatever poison was about to spill from him. “I know enough, Noc.” He goes to argue back, but his lips close, eyes darting between mine instead - sealing in whatever lie he was looking to pour over me. “Exactly. You left me. There's no excuse good enough that I’d ever accept it from you. You fucking ruined me. I grieved for you.” I manage to break away from the curse his eyes threaten to hold me under. My voice is below a whisper, “I’ll never forgive you.”
He gently wraps his fingers around my chin, turning my head to him, eyes roaming my face for what feels like an eternity, conflicted with himself before he whispers, “Fuck it.” He crashes his lips to mine, and my traitorous body allows him right back in.
We're a clash of tongues and teeth, my hands going into his hair as I tug on it, making a feral noise thunder inside him. I spread my legs out, letting him sink deeper towards me and he grinds himself against me. His hand roams from where hehad my biceps pinned to the ground and glides over my breast, yanking my dress down to expose them. He leans back to admire them, his gaze dripping in hunger whilst I squirm under the heat. His mouth comes down, forcing me to moan as his lips wrap around the sensitive peak, sucking and licking before he gives it a quick nip, soothing over the sting with his wet tongue.
He leans back, tugging me by my ankles as I slide to him, my dress gliding through the blood as I pull myself to get to him. He yanks me against his chest as I straddle his muscular legs, our lips missing the lack of connection as we crash together once more. My subconscious screams at me that I’m out of my damn mind - and I am. I feel like I’m in heaven, when I should be in hell. My hands roam every inch of him, like they can't believe they've finally reclaimed their favorite entity to touch, the recognizable warmth radiating beneath them and bringing me to life.
His fingers spread as they trace the backs of my thighs, slowly teasing my dress up over the curve of my ass, his other hand sliding between my legs just as my mine rakes to the back of his waistband, my hand brushes the carbon - the reality forcing me from the spell he's captured me under. The fog clears, and the switch flips to the cold-blooded killer I am.
Our kiss breaks apart and I drive my fist into his cheek with every ounce of force I have, the impact sending him crashing onto his side, I slide back on my knees and stand - adjusting my dress. “Fucking hell, I should have expected that.” He looks up at me with a smile even the devil would be pleased with. “Glad to see you're still a mischievous little thing.” A smoky, more controlled laugh comes from me when I take a step towards him, slowly lowering myself and letting one of my forearm’s dangle between my knees.
My legs are spread, exposing the fact I don't have any underwear on and his hungry eyes zone in, letting out whatsounds like an involuntary growl when he realizes the easy access he just had. His eyes snap to mine when he feels the barrel ofhisgun that I have inmyhand pressed into the middle of his forehead. “A lot has changed since you left me, Noc. Take your own advice. It'd be wise for you not to try and fuck with me. I run in the darkness now too.”
His eyes clash with mine, locked in a silent war, a battle of wills neither of us intends to lose. Slowly, a murderous smile unfurls across his face. It’s dark, like ink bleeding through paper. I stand and step back, turning to pick up my clutch and give him my back, letting him know that he’s not a threat to me. I'll shoot him right between the eyes with his own gun if he tries anything - at least that’s what I convince myself I'll do.
When I look back, I hesitate for a moment, debating whether to let him fully rise before landing another swing, pistol-whipping him just to satisfy the storm raging inside me. His voice is low and deep when he gets to his towering height before me. His tone could almost be mistaken for defeat “Brodie-”
“No, Noc. I don’t want to hear excuses; I want the fucking truth. If you can’t give me that, don’t waste your breath.” And I wait, even though my inner voice tells me I shouldn’t care. He would have known he was going to fake his death, known his actions were going to catch up to him. Christ, a simple letter explaining it could have saved me from four years of grief over a man I thought dead. I would only have needed to deal with the betrayal; instead, I got the pain handed to me twice over.
His absence of words says it all. And my pride is in disarray at me stooping so low as to beg him. “Noc, please.” The last word comes out as a whisper. A plea. One that is likely my first and last for this man.
“I can’t.” His response has me visibly flinching back.
“Can’t, or won’t?” I ask. The skin over his jaw ripples as he clenches it, eyes going above and over my head, and I know thenI’ve lost, and will be impeded by his silence forever. But before I can act, a sudden blast of music shatters the tension, spilling in from the door behind him. A woman barrels through, moving with purpose toward the door that dragged me into this mess. She stops. Her eyes flicker over the scene, the air shifting when she does.
She’s taller than me, all legs, moving like she knows exactly how to wield them. Her long, platinum hair, unnaturally bleached - is illuminated under the low lights. The silver sequins of her dress refract from the lights outside, making her look like a glitterball. The way her assets sit, perfectly sculpted, leaves no doubt that they’re bought and paid for. “Noc!” She calls out, urgency lacing her voice as she rushes toward him. Russian spills from her lips as she takes in the scene - the dead man, Noc, then finally, me. Confusion distorts her face as she gestures sharply, pointing at me, her words lost in a language I never had the urge to learn.
He speaks fluently back to her, I've never heard him speak it like this, only the odd word we shared in moments when it was just us. The warmness of the memory is quickly put out as I watch his hand coming up to cup her cheek, giving her a smile that would make any woman succumb to him, like it made me. She turns to look back at me, wariness radiating from her as the sultry smile she had fades. The bang of doors hitting off walls behind me breaks my profiling of her. Phantom comes rushing through, Adam and Blitz a few seconds behind him as the music bleeds through the opening again. “Nyx! What the fuck, are you hurt?” Phantom grabs my arms and turns me to him, hands roaming for injuries.Great, this mission has really gone to shit. Out of all the outcomes we could have had, this was not one I imagined.
I look from him to Noc, who furrows his brows at my codename and then looks to Phantom, his eyes locked on himlike he’s his next target. I spy movement as my eyes go to his fists clenching at his sides. I turn to Phantom. “I’m good, guy on the floor? Not so good.” I let out a huffed laugh, turning to steal another glance at Noc, the blonde pressed intimately close to him as he talks intensely to her. She's smiling up at him again - clearly agreeing to whatever he's asked. She heads into the middle door before reappearing with a sheet she throws on the dead guy, then goes back for some signs as she moves towards the far end door. Phantom leans down to speak into my ear. “Graves is here, and he's fucking pissed. We need to leave, especially if you're leaving bodies behind.” I hear his words as I fight the magnetic hold Noc holds me with, but only able to give a nod to agree we leave.
He places his overshirt over me, tucking my hair in, and covering my blood-soaked arms and legs, it drapes over my figure and drowns me in the material. He takes me by the hand and drags me towards the door, Blitz leading the way and Adam holding it for us. I look to see his gaze is fixed on Noc. I take one last look over my shoulder as Adam breaks his stare and heads out.
I’m met with a menacing stance from Noc, the knife he now holds twitching in his palm whilst his eyes burn holes in Phantom's head. Phantom places his hand on my lower back to protect me from everyone’s view. Just as we get through the door, I hear the knife whirling past, lodging itself in the door as it swings shut - exactly where Phantom's head would have been if he were a split second slower.
The rideback to the hotel is silent. Phantom picks me up bridal style, making out to the worried staff asking questions as we roll through the lobby, that I’m drunk and had a fall. He sets me down in the elevator as all four of us pile into the small space.I dare a glance in the mirror behind me.Shit. My eyeliner has run down my face, my hair is a mess and I’m covered in blood. Fitting the role perfectly for the drunken girl who took a head dive after a night on the tiles. No one would suspect I found the man I loved - presumed dead for four years - who killed a man who was trying to grope me before we then had it out. Thankfully, the shirt is so big on me that only the lighter blood smears are visible.
We step out and head straight to Hawks room, Blitz using the card to open the door as we filter through. I notice Hawk first as he leans against the far wall, his gaze fixed on the floor, arms crossed with his fist pressed to his lips. His eyes flicker up, visibly relaxing the tension in his form as we all come rolling in, but then he coils up again when he notices the state I’m in.
His room is bigger than ours and set up with the same layout, but there’s a circular table that commands attention in the middle of the open floor. And by command, I mean there’s a roaring Graves seated in the center of it. I've never seen him angry – not once in my whole career. His rant is relentless as he roars down the phone, stopping when all stand in formation by the archway, immediately ending his call and slamming the phone on the surface, causing it to tremble.
His anger doesn’t let up from whoever was on the phone, because he ejects his venom straight at us. “What the fuck happened out there!” he bellows as his eyes frantically go from my head to my toes.
“I got attacked coming out of the bathroom. It's been taken care of.” He doesn’t need to know the ins and outs of why that happened - I don’t think it’ll help. I lean down to take my heels off that have been glued to my insoles with blood.
“Taken care of? What the fuck does taken care of mean? I want a debrief. Now! No one leaves until you tell me everything that happened. Don't leave a fucking thing out.”
I look at the rest of the guys, wondering if they’re as stunned at Graves' behavior as I am. Even when a mission has gone a little sideways, he's never been mad - he's always so cool and composed. Maybe he goes into his office to scream so we don’t see it? Was Hawk not supposed to sign this off during his absence? I look over at him and concern is etched across his face he takes me in. His eyes meet mine and he gives me a subtle, pleading smile. “Tell us what happened, Nyx. Are you hurt? Do you need us to take you to-” he doesn't get a chance to finish as Graves tears through his words. “Hawk. I don’t think you’re in a position to be playing peacemaker here. Shut the fuck up.”
I glance between the two of them, suddenly hyper-aware of the weight of every gaze now fixed on me. My spine stiffens. I take them through the night, how we scoped out downstairs and maneuvered our way into VIP. Conveniently, I skip past the part where Blitz charmed a stranger off the street. That’s her secret to spill - not mine. Then, I go over to discover the door - the one I suspect either housed Volokov or served as a private floor or office. I describe it in detail, giving them enough to form a plan.
I skim over the slimeball from the bar, downplaying the encounter, until I start to falter. My words stumble, no one in this room will likely recognize the name I’m about to say, but Graves will. Adam gives me a reassuring nod, knowing I need a bit more courage to tell the next part. “And that’s when Nocturne turned up, he... He saved me.” I swallow hard, forcing down the lump rising in my throat. I can’t let the emotion slip - not here, not now.
Phantom and Blitz frown.Hawk doesn’t react. And Graves? Well, he goes as white as a sheet. “What do you mean, Nocturne?” His voice is like a low threat.
I take a grounding stance, straightening myself and holding my hands behind my back. “He's alive sir. I must admit, I thought I saw him at the warehouse. It was only a quick glimpse through the scope, but I knew it was impossible. That’s why I didn't mention it.” The lie keeps rolling from my tongue. “It wasn't until he slit the guy’s throat in front of me, that I knew I hadn't been seeing things, it was him. Alive and well.'”
