“Like you, I, too, had a foster sibling that wanted more and took it.” Leaving the wine on the table, she floated to stand on her heels, then swayed to a confused and sweating Jarrod. He looked nearly the same as the last time I saw him, maybe just the hint of a receding hairline and deeper lines around his eyes. His eyes pleaded with me for help, which confused me further.
“My foster brother thought I had beautiful hair and lush, creamy skin. I was a meek girl when I was younger. Didn’t get in trouble much. The nerdy type, if you will. Our parents were out on a date, and he was supposed to watch me. Well, I bet you can imagine how the night went.”
Her smile became sinister. I focused on Jarrod and fear wrapped around me. She slowly walked over to him, her painted fingernails dragging up and down his body. She mimicked a hungry predator surveying its prey.
“You tried to take what didn’t belong to you, didn’t you Jarrod?” she purred and traced the features of his face. His face strained as he tried to inch away from her touch but couldn’t. Her powers controlled his movements.
“Only the one time. After that I never touched a woman without consent. I swear. That was a long time ago. I’m so sorry, Hazel.” Tears sprouted from his eyes, and genuine fear coated the air between us.
“I forgave him a long time ago.” I walked forward. I didn’t know what this woman’s plans were, but I knew enough about her to assume the worst.
“Forgiveness. Ha! He wronged you, he tried to rape you, and he would have let his buddies have a taste, too. Years of therapy can only do so much. The only thing that will make the bad memories go away is justice. Justice for all the girls like you and me, Hazel. This is for them, for us.” She whispered in his ear and his eyes widened.
“No, please.” He trembled and looked down. I followed his gaze and saw the Collector held a shiny blade in her hand.
“Don’t hurt him,” I warned as I carefully inched closer to them.
“I won’t hurt him. Jarrod is having remorse for the vile act he committed. Isn’t that right, Jarrod?” She handed him the blade and his grasp tightened around the hilt. I thought his knuckles might burst.
Jarrod shook his head, but then whispered a “Yes,” like he’d been instructed. His arms shook as he raised the blade, and the Collector’s grin grew bigger the closer he came to his doom.
“Please, don’t do this. You may not believe in forgiveness but forgiveness isn’t about the person who wronged you. It’s about letting go of the poison inside yourself before it consumes you. They may have cut you deep, but by holding onto the pain, you have never let it heal. He doesn’t deserve to die. I punished him enough, and I believe he never touched another without consent.” When I reached two feet between us, the Collector raised her hand and told him to freeze. She watched me, her eyes flaring with understanding, she knew the poisonous feeling of holding on to the hurt. She recognized my words and what they meant in our situations. Maybe I’d reached her, and there was hope she’d spare him. Then she shrugged, and my hope burned to ash.
“I think we’ll take his punishment in blood. Go ahead, Jarrod.”
I reached out, trying to stop him, but the blade came down into his gut too fast. His pain-filled groan echoed around the pristine dining room, and his blood dripped onto the marble floors as he twisted the knife around his torso. I rushed to catch his body as he collapsed to the ground, the weight of his limp body taking me down with him. He pulled the blade out from his gut and hot blood spurted out of the deep wound. It seeped into his clothes and mine, and I feared I’d never get the stain of his blood out of my skin.
“Jarrod, look at me,” I pleaded, tears falling down my cheeks while he bled to death in my arms. I knew I couldn’t take away his pain or stop the bleeding even if the Collector would let me. His trembled head turned ever so slightly to give me his dying focus. I did the only thing I could think of. I sang for him softly. I prayed it gave him a moment of peace before he parted. I had nothing else but the voice I’d been gifted with. The words coming out of my mouth belonged to “The Parting Glass.”
“Fill to me the parting glass.”I fought to keep my voice level as grief wrecked me. His lips tipped up for the barest of seconds before his body shook one last time. His head flopped to the side, and his dead eyes stared into mine, a face that I will forever live out my days and never forget.
“So dramatic.” The unfazed devil woman strutted back to her seat like she hadn’t just made a man kill himself.
“You killed him,” I whispered, unsure what I should do. I wanted to rage, fight, and weep for hours. I did not know Jarrod as a man, and he could have lied about only being with consensual women. But the day I became OK with cold-blood murdering would be the day hell stole my soul. I was not the judge, jury, and executioner. Our system didn’t always handle people who committed vile acts as they should have, but that’s why I advocated for change. I wasn’t a vigilante who basked in the blood of the criminals like the Collector did.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to Jarrod as I set him down gently on the bloody marble.
Without another thought, I marched over to the Collector, who was getting more wine poured into her cup. She missed her chance to stop me as my fist collided with her face with the heaviest punch I could muster.
She flew back, blood spurting from her nose, and I grinned at the sight. Not wanting her to get a chance to use her power on me, I jumped onto her fallen form and threw one balled-up fist after another.
“I’ll never submit to a murderer like you. We are nothing alike.” I hoped like hell I knocked her ass out. Her leg came up and I lost my balance, giving her the chance to speak.
“Freeze!” Her voice wrapped around me like a vice and I became still.
“I always liked your fire, Hazel, but like all wild animals, they can be brought to heel.” She wiped the blood off her smug lips, and I shook with rage.
“Now, you will eat dinner, then you will sing and dance for me.” She sat up, then righted herself and her chair. Without my permission, I rose to my feet and sat at the table. The servants appeared seconds later with a plate of hot food. Vegan for me, and as starving as I was, I didn’t want to eat it. But her power squeezed me from the inside and I grasped onto the fork to stab a cooked carrot.
“Much better.”
I’d never wanted to murder someone in my whole life, but this woman flirted with my moral code.
Chapter Thirty- Five
Maddox
“Have you found her yet?” I asked AJ on the phone. I’d been a miserable ass since the Collector had taken Hazel. Fury drove my every step. The Collector Bitch needed to pay. It had been four days since Hazel had been kidnapped, and the Hero Society’s searches hadn’t found her. Phillip and Dorian had surprisingly made themselves scarce, which led me to believe they knew where she was but couldn’t tell anyone about it or something wrong would happen. I get it, but it still pissed me off.
