Fuck.
I thought I was ready for the truth but hearing it from Jae was…somehow worse. Because from what I could tell, Enoch certainly didn’t see me for what I was.
A liar. A killer. A coward.
Seven
June 23, Tuesday
Emory
My fingers traced the bullets on my coffee table. I hadn’t loaded the gun. I was waiting. I didn’t know what for, but I felt like if I offed myself before I answered Enoch’s call, I was going to cause him more emotional damage. The least I could do was give him this one thing, this last brief moment of my time.
Enoch wanted to talk. To me. ToShiloh.
I wasn’t an idiot. I knew that leaving the way that I did, faking my death by suicide, was going to be traumatic. But I honestly didn’t think that four and a half years later it would still have such an impact on their lives. I was young, and naïve, and clearly way in over my head with everything going on in my life at the time, but sacrificing some of their happiness seemed like a fair trade for my own life.
I didn’t know that it was going to turn out like this when I agreed to Agent Nguyen’s terms. Everything happened so fast, and I wasn’t prepared for how much guilt it would leave me when I didn’t get to give them a proper goodbye. When Los Siete faked my death so that I could become Olivia Walsh.
It made me sick to think that even for one second they might have considered themselves to blame for my death. I wouldn’t wish that kind of guilt on anyone, least of all the only two people outside of my brother and Sebastian that I’d loved before.
I checked the time on my phone again. I only had an hour before Bradley was going to be here with the paperwork. Was that shitty of me? To let Bradley find my body.Should I leave him a note?
I scoffed. That didn’t seem to work out well the last time, did it?
I grimaced, my fresh cuts burning as I adjusted my position on the couch. I thought the high would’ve given me some sense of peace before killing myself, but it only served as a reminder of how fucked in the head I was. It was hereditary, I was sure.
I sighed.
Maybe Enoch had changed his mind. How much longer should I wait for him to call before I just stopped…before I loaded the gun?
The phone vibrated against the coffee table, rattling the bullets. I swallowed. The Florida area code had my heart racing in my chest.
I hesitantly swiped to answer the call.
“Hello?”
“Sh-Emory?”
I licked my lips. “Yeah.”
“Hi. It’s me…Nox.”
I dug my nails into the scabs on the side of my leg, wincing at the tingle of pain.
“Hi.”
An awkward pause ensued and I cracked my knuckles.
“Um…I…Shit. Sorry. I just, I, um, I’m still a little bit in shock, I guess.”
I nodded, waiting for him to continue.
He sighed. “Um, is it okay, like, can you talk right now?”
“Yeah. I’m not busy.” I eyed the gun.
“Um, so. You’re alive,” he chuckled softly and my stomach clenched. “H-how? I know, the deputy said that they faked your death, but um…I just, I’m just a little confused. Like…what happened?”
