Page 16 of Ashfall
The last part comes out a bit more toxic than I intended. Graves leans back in his chair and pushes his hands through his greying hair. A silence falls over the room, and it's fucking uncomfortable. Graves is lost in thought, and none of us dare to speak. Then he stands, hands on his hips as he walks in a slow, small circle, unpacking the bomb I just dropped. He stills, and eventually speaks. “I wasn't sure if it was true or not, but we've had suspicions Nocturne has been alive for a while.”
Adam and I snap our heads toward the commander. What the fuck? Blitz cuts through the tension, “Uh, sorry, sir. For those of us completely lost right now, mind filling us in?” I shift my gaze to Graves, his stare cutting through me, heavy with something unspoken. The uncertainty crackles in the air, wrapping itself around me like a warning. “Nocturne used to be military,” he finally says. “One hell of a soldier. A menace on the field - that’s how he earned his codename.” He exhales, glancing past us as if seeing something far beyond the room. “He was black ops. The kind of soldier who made an impact. Christ. He could’ve been your commander instead of me. Even at his age, he didn’t just meet expectations… he shattered them.”
His tone at the end sounds like it's coated in bitterness, but he goes on. “About six years ago, we were aware of intel being leaked. Right here, to Russia.” My body freezes as the familiar story Ashley told us echoes inside me. “Missions being compromised, being fed false information. An internal investigation started, people were interviewed, and we managedto trace it back to Nocturne.”I’m going to be sick.“He'd been playing a dangerous game of double crossing. To the entire US army, to an army that let him in, despite his fathers background, in favor of the evil that threatens us on this very soil.” He takes a deep breath, but I’m still struggling to find mine.
He takes another seat, fingers tapping on the wooden surface before he speaks again. “We managed to uncover that his real father was Russian and got caught up in some seedy business within their underworld. He was one of the only people who got out of a deal gone wrong with a group who were supplying large amounts of chemicals for a terror attack planned for the US. Said his wife was over here and could assist with supporting them. The group suspected it was him who had ratted them out, and therefore dealt with him in a brutal way. Nocturne had taken it upon himself to act out vengeance against our own country, blaming the special ops force who managed to bring down a whole organization for the death of his father. He'd been pulling the wool over our eyes from the moment he signed his application form. He did it for years, and he did it well.”
I sprint for the bathroom barely making it before my stomach turns inside out, bile burning my throat as I wretch hard. My hands tremble, clutching the toilet lid, my eyes stinging with the force of tears, the weight of it all. The betrayal that has finally surfaced, alive and thriving, as my worst nightmare was just confirmed. Noc - he’s the reason all those people are dead. The reason Ashley is gone. The realization is suffocating. I feel dirty and sick, for what I felt for him, what I did with him. I let a traitor into my bed. Into my heart. I feel like a fucking fool.
Hawk steps into the bathroom, his hand settles on my shoulder as a sob rips its way out my throat, not even caring to fight it. There's no point now; everyone will now know I loved a traitor. How can a special op force member be stupid enough tolet herself be blindsided? I don't even deserve to be on this team because of that error alone.
He pulls me to my feet and grips me by the shoulders. “It’s going to be ok, Nyx.” His voice is low, so that only I can hear him. I look at him, my eyes searching his. He has no idea what he's talking about. He sighs as if he can read my thoughts. “Go head back to your room, shower that shit off you and try to get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.” I step back and nod, making my way back to my room, not looking a single person in the eye. I feel the heaviness of shame clinging all over my body. I just want to get out of that room and be alone with my thoughts, alone with the truth that’s swallowing me whole, into the darkness that’s now becoming my closest friend.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
nyx
Idon't think my eyes even attempted to close all night. I stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours, drifting between that and gazing out into the night. My mind was utterly silent - no thoughts of Noc, of what happened at the club, or what came after. Nothing. Just emptiness. My body, finally exhausted with it all, shuts down. I feel completely numb.
The darkness in my room gradually lifts as the first light of dawn creeps in. A muted orange hue stretches across the open space, growing warmer until the morning sky is fully in motion. I move with mechanical precision, slipping out of bed and heading straight for the shower. I don’t bother waiting for the water to heat, I step in while it’s still ice-cold. My body reacts, shivering violently, but I don’t care enough to move. Anything is better than the deep, dull ache lodged permanently in my chest. I step out and get ready, hearing a beep in the distance from my phone next to my bed. A message from Hawk, thirty minutes ago telling us that the car will be here in an hour. Back to base.
I pull on my civilian attire, zip up my carryall, and straighten the bed. My gaze catches on the bloodstained clothes from last night, discarded on the floor beside it. I reach for them, intending to shove them into my bag and be rid of them - but themoment my fingers graze the fabric, his scent hits me. It clings to my dress, a lingering reminder of how close we were. I drop it instantly. Like the material burned my skin. I force myself to move, throwing the dress into the trash. The wig was lost somewhere in the street when we fled last night. I grab the heels, ready to discard them too, but the wastebasket is too small. They refuse to disappear easily, catching on the edge. The sight of them, of everything, makes something deep inside me snap - my sanity.
The heels fly across the room, leaving a black patent smear on the pristine, white wall. I turn, tearing the mirror from the wall, the glass shattering across the floor like snowflakes. The wardrobe comes next as my hands wrench around when a bang stops my chaos. It's continuous, loud, and irritating. Fueling the fire inside me as the noise grates on my nerves. I hope its life or death for whoever's on the other side, because I'm going to break their fucking neck.
The door cracks against the interior wall as I throw it open, my breathing erratic. Adam. He stares directly at me, hand still curled in a fist from the banging. His gaze shifts behind me, surveying the mess. I don't apologize. I don't care. The damage will be covered.
I turn away from him, the door closing with a soft click, then I hear his footsteps following me inside as they crunch over the shattered glass. “Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is low, cautious as he keeps a safe distance from me. Good. I’m not in the mood for anyone today. “Nope,” I reply, making sure to pop the P. My voice sounds foreign - I haven’t spoken a word since I uttered‘He saved me’and that thought alone makes me huff out a laugh at my idiocy.
His expression tightens, looking at me with concern and it peeves me more. Probably thinking I’ve finally gone clean off the cliff with no one to catch me - which is partially true. Whenour eyes lock, neither of us backs down. He’s hoping I’ll break and speak to him. Unfortunately for Adam, this is my forte, and silence only brings me a welcome comfort. There’s a softer knock on the door this time and I groan audibly as Hawk also steps in, scanning the wreckage. His eyes flick from me to the broken mirror on the floor.
“What happened here?”
That’s it. The final push. “'Oh my god! I broke the fucking mirror! Is that not obvious? Or would you guys like a demonstration for your rooms too?'” Adam and Hawk exchange a glance before turning to me, it makes my blood boil over. “Can you guys stop looking at me like that? I’m fine! I just-” I let out a sharp breath. “I just need to get the fuck out of here and let off some steam, and the mirror was in the way.” Hawk looks at me with pity.I fucking hate it.
Anger is churning inside me like lava ready to erupt from a volcano. I bite my tongue. It wouldn’t be wise to curse our Executive Officer out right now. So, I abstain. “What about the shoes?” Hawk finally says, “What did they do?” I turn, catching sight of the one lying on the floor. The culprit for the mark on the wall. The other was impaled into the plaster by its stiletto heel. I shift, meeting both of their eyes, catching their mouths twitching.
Adam pointedly turns away, scratching his head in a poor attempt to hide the laugh. “Keep laughing Adam, and I'll use your head as practice at base.” He glances back to me, a whisper of a smile still battling to keep from fully forming. He moves to grab my bag. I hesitate, rooted for a moment, until he lifts a questioning brow. Cursing under my breath, I stomp over to him as he extends his hand. I snap mine into his, rolling my eyes that I’m being treated like a damn child. Hawk chuckles, giving my back a firm pat as we head out.
The journey back took five hours instead of three - the weekend traffic was a nightmare. It didn't help that there was an alleged safety threat about ten miles away from us when we left the club, some kind of explosion. Turned out to be a false alarm, a controlled one and nothing to worry about. But the gridlocks only started to ease after three hours in the SUVs.
I’m now in the makeshift rec center, hammering out pull ups instead of destroying furniture. Venom by Eminem blasts through my earphones. The song’s been on repeat while I batter out lord knows how many - I'm pushing through them until I'm a puddle of muscle and sweat. A tap on my leg pulls me from my self-torture. Glancing down to see Phantom. Dropping to my feet, I pull an earphone out and pause the song. Jesus, I feel like a human steam engine. “I've been standing here for fifteen minutes watching you pull up,” amusement wrapped around his tone. “You may have just unofficially broken the world record for doing them continuously without even faltering.” I let out a laugh, but it's fleeting.
My title is more suited to be categorized as the world’s biggest idiot. “Graves and Hawk have called us for an emergency meeting,” he says, and I nod silently as I walk with him. Even if I wanted to, my breathing won’t allow me to speak without sounding like I’m fighting for my life. Shame rears its ugly head as we walk outside over the grassy grounds to the command center. Wondering what he thinks about me. It’s probably not hard for them to piece last night’s events together.
“I get you're probably feeling every emotion right now Nyx, but guilt shouldn't be one of them.” My muscles freeze, daring a glance at him. He stops, and I bite the inside of my cheek as I face him.
“Don't look at me like that Phantom. Everyone's been looking at me with pity and it’s driving me closer to madness.” He laughs, and it is a genuine one. I get the confirmation as he pullsme in for a bear hug. Part of me wants to put him on his ass for being affectionate. The other just wants me to accept the comfort - for once.
“We don't mean it, and we know you don’t need it. We're just worried that’s all. I don’t know the full story, but the moment I found you, I knew you guys had history. Hell, I thought he was gonna come for me when I grabbed you.” He laughs, not even realizing how close to the truth he is. I skip telling him he almost had a knife as a new headpiece.
For once, I let myself be vulnerable with no one else around. Letting the words that are desperate to claw their way out free. “I don't even know what to feel Phantom. I feel like the last six years of my life have been flipped upside down. I was sleeping with the enemy, and I didn't even realize it.”
He squeezes me tighter before pulling back. “The cruelest of enemies don’t show themselves to us with battle cries, Nyx. They're usually whispering to you in the dark, masking themselves as love.”
I look up at him, tears threatening in my eyes, and huff a sad laugh. “That was... strangely poetic, Phantom.”
He chuckles, and it feels deep and wrapped in warmth. “If I ever need to find another career, maybe I'll write a book of quotes that make the ladies swoon.”
