His words strike like icy water, slicing the last of the fog from my mind. My jaw pulses, a muscle ticking like a trigger as anger floods my veins with renewed clarity.
Jason stripped me of my position.
Betrayed me. Took control. Turned everyone against me.
My heartbeat spikes as I replay Samuel’s words, fueling the fury, feeding the acid that burns hot in my chest. I nod slowly to myself, because he’s right about one thing.
Jason won’t stop. There is no version of reality where he leaves me and Estella alone. He will hunt us down across cities, across continents, across planets if he has to—dragging his righteousness behind him like a badge he never earned.
And I made him this way.
I remember him at the beginning—green, terrified, hesitant. Always asking if we should do it, if the cause was worth it. He followed me because I seemed sure, because I carved the path and he walked it. He thought he became a hero somewhere along the way.
But heroes don’t betray their own.
He judged me for becoming a man consumed, but he’s lost too. I’m obsessed with a woman, while he’s obsessed with the fantasy of goodness.
An illusion. A lie he feeds himself because it makes him feel clean.
He’s gone too fucking far, and it’s on me to stop him.
I rise from the mattress, my body protesting but holding, and take a step toward Samuel. His eyes flick nervously between me and the exit, his anxiety swelling as I close the distance.
Still, he doesn’t move aside.
“Samuel,” I warn, my voice low and taut. “Let me out. I promise everything will be fine. I understand loyalty—believe me, I do. But I need to find her.”
I’m not asking for much. I just need my Estella.
He swallows hard, a bead of sweat breaking free and sliding down his temple. Still, he shakes his head. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
I nod again, the decision settling inside me with the weight and permanence of granite. I prowl toward him, and he snatches the gun from the table—the same one Estella had tried to shoot me with.
“Stay back!” he barks, though his voice wavers. His hands tremble, his entire body quivering like a loose wire, and for a fleeting second, I wonder what exactly Jason told him that made him so terrified of me. “Stay back or I’ll?—”
“Shoot me? It’s empty,” I mock, tilting my head. “And really—why does everyone keep pointing guns at me?”
Regret strikes me the moment these words leave my mouth. Samuel doesn’t have even a shadow of her presence. Nobody ever could.
“It’s not empty anymore,” he says, the words stumbling out on shaky breaths. He looks seconds away from collapsing orpissing himself. “Jason warned me this might happen. I won’t hesitate, Dante.”
I move before his fear can calcify into action. In one smooth motion, I close the space and rip the gun from his grip. He flinches, then lunges at me with a desperate groan, his fingers clawing at my hands as he fights for the weapon. Even with the drugs fogging my mind, rage does the rest. It sharpens everything, fuels every nerve.
A sharp knee to his solar plexus folds him inward, and as he wheezes, I twist and angle the gun until the barrel rests between his brows.
“No, no, please!” he cries, his eyes widening into enormous, glistening circles. He tries to twist away, his voice cracking. “I’m begging you, I have a family!”
His pleas float toward me, but they hit nothing—just the thick, impenetrable wall of indifference.
What aboutmyfamily?
The only person I have ever loved has been taken from me, and he stood between us. He refused to let me leave. He chose obedience over her life.
The rage burns hotter, molten, devouring every remaining scrap of reason.
I’m done trying to reason with anyone. I’m done assuming people will step aside. Obstacles only move when they’re removed.
The cries die into a trembling silence as I press the barrel tighter against his skin and pull the trigger. The shot reverberates through the small space with a violent punctuation. I close my eyes and turn my face away, but a few warm droplets still fleck my cheek.
