Remorse overwhelms me as I think of how frightened she must have been when she came upon Bill Henson’s corpse. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why did I leave him for her to find? The last months of his life were spent victimizing her, and it continued with his death, because of me.
And that was only the start. I shudder, remembering that massive teddy bear, and the note I wrote that must have frightened her half to death.Run.
I was beating myself up just hours ago, wondering if she became sick because she’d run out into the cold night in nothing but my shirt. But it wasn’t the shirt that did it, it was the fear. She was so terrified of me that she didn’t even get dressed. She just grabbed a shirt, a shirt I later nearly tore off of her in anger, and ran through the forest half-naked, terrified. And then I beat her half to death.
Guilt chokes me as I remember her lying limp on the forest floor. I did that to her. I beat her hard enough that she nearly lost consciousness, and I left her like that. I left her to find her wayback, bleeding and broken. And then, I was on the verge of force-feeding her. Iwouldhave done it if I hadn’t noticed her fever. I did all of that. And that’s only the more recent shit. Our entire relationship has been marked by my cruelty.
Of course she ran away. She’s terrified of me. How could anyone love a man who would put them through such horrible things?
The only thing to do now is to leave. The realization sinks into me, hard to accept, impossible to deny. If I want her to live, I need to tear myself away from her. It’s the only way to keep her safe.
She’s still asleep when I kneel beside her, pressing my lips to hers, inhaling her soft scent. If I didn’t know any better, I’d imagine she does want me by the way she turns toward me and moans softly. But she’s asleep. It’s meaningless.
Walking away from Seraphina is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I close the door, my heart broken at the thought that I won’t see her again for a long time… perhaps ever.
__
“I want you here now,” I say, then hang up before any of them have time to ask me why.
I wait for the three of them in the living room, antsy, my left hand drumming its fingers on the arm of the couch, my other hand clutching a glass of whiskey. Logan is already here, trying to conceal the anxious look on his face.
A few minutes later, the elevator chimes and Everest walks in. I’ve barely seen him in the past eight months: he and Igor have been holding down the fort here while Logan, Vincent and I traveled around the country, hunting for her. I’m taken abackby how little he’s changed. Still the same blond, tousled hair, sun-kissed skin, and breezy, slightly too studied look. Maybe I’ve given him too much credit by calling him a softie. Or maybe that’s exactly what he is, and whatever affection I imagined he had for Seraphina was really just the product of his kind nature. His heart went out to her because that’s just what his heart does, but he clearly didn’t overly preoccupy himself with her. If anything, the person most affected by everything that’s happened to her, after me, is Logan. I’ve never known him to feel so guilty. I’ve never known him to care at all. Initially, I thought he was trying to find her to appease me, but I’m starting to think he cares more than he lets on. He’s lost weight and the Logan smirk he always wears has faded.
I feel a twinge of something like jealousy as I watch him. I know he would never develop the least romantic feeling for the girl I’ve claimed as mine. But it angers me that he should even care platonically. The overwhelming possessiveness I feel toward her is starting to scare me.
Still, he’s the only one I can really trust, and even as it angers me, this proof that he cares reassures me. I can depend on him to take care of her. And someonedoesneed to take care of her, to make sure she eats regular meals and gets proper medical treatment. If I tell him to look after her, he will. The only way I can bear to part with her is to know he’ll be around.
Vincent and Igor walk in together, their arrival interrupting my thoughts. Vincent has gained a lot in assurance these past few months. He knows just how useful he is to me, and I’ve come to see it too. With Gabriel gone, his last tie to Angel has dissolved, and the cloud of suspicion that hung over his head is gone. He’s really come into his own lately.
Then there’s Igor. Still the same silent brute. At least there’s one constant in our group.
The three of them sit down next to Logan. Vincent smiles atme, while Everest runs a distracted hand in his hair. “Long time no see,” he says smoothly.
I nod curtly. “How’s the business going?”
“All’s on the up-and-up,” states Everest. “Since Angel disappeared, we’ve managed to get back all our old contacts and make a bunch of new ones. The Feds are leaving us alone. They have no proof, and since they found Seraphina Connor’s grave…” He pauses meaningfully. “They have no reason to continue their search. Everything has resolved perfectly, and we’ve started investing heavily in Silicon Valley. In fact, a number of startups were in difficulty after Gabriel’s death, and we swooped and saved them, so to speak. Devil’s reputation is soaring, these days. When you come back full-time, you’ll see…”
“I’m not coming back.”
All four of them stare at me.
“I’ve decided to quit Devil,” I explain. “I’m bequeathing everything I’ve built to you. Vincent, I want you to join the group. Logan… you’ll be in command.”
They all seem shocked, but Logan’s mouth positively hangs open.
“You can’t be serious,” he stammers.
“I am.”
“What the hell, Damien? I’ve spent the last eight months believing you wanted to kill me.”
“I still want to kill you,” I say, taking a swig of whiskey. “But I won’t.”
His face decomposes. “Motherfucker,” he croaks. “Motherfucker.” He drags a hand over his eyes and makes a weird choking sound that almost sounds like a sob. “You couldn’t have told me this eight months ago?”
“Iwasplanning on killing you for those eight months. I decided to spare you about five minutes ago.”
He stares at me. “What happened five minutes ago?”
