His words were far more incomprehensible than the first time, and I wasn’t sure whether he’d stepped away or if I were fading into an afterlife I’d craved far more than the poison I’d fed myself.
Muffled cracks sounded as he no doubt attempted to break the door. This wasn’t the first time, and I wouldn’t put it past him to know something was wrong.
Another snap, and a flood of light entered the room between the spotting of my vision. “Thorne!” Warm hands caressed my cheeks, shaking them enough to snap my eyes open to view Matt’s blurred face. “Shit,shit!” His voice was panicked, growing louder as he said another phrase I could barely decipher. “Not today, fucker.Nottoday.”
Matt hauled his arm beneath my shoulders, gaining leverage before I was lifted from the ground. My head lulled, meeting his chest as his heartbeat became the metronome toward an unconsciousness I knew I’d never wake from. Allowing my lids to flutter once more, I sank into his hold, knowing that, at least in passing, someone I loved cradled me.
“Help! I need somegoddamn help!” Matt’s words faded, the edge within reach.
I was ready to jump; Iwantedto jump. I’d fought for too long, battling against my will to live ever since my father took my mom and sister from me. I just wanted to see them. I craved their touch, for them to hug me and tell me I wasn’t the vile man I’d been molded into by the influence of General Valens’ hand.
“M-Matthew? What’s going on?” I knew that voice, another one of my soldiers…
A name. A name…
“A medic! Get a fucking medic, Simon!”
The commotion faded as my body and mind finally gave in. Weakly, I shifted my gaze to meet Matt’s, offering him one last smile—the mark of my finality. With it, my chest stilled, the beat of my heart fading in strength and rhythm. Chilling darkness approached, and as my head rolled to the side, the last person I saw before my existence ceased was Oren.
I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough. I’m so fucking sorry.
CHAPTER EIGHT
OREN
Find friends who help you pick up discarded metal fragments from a dirty club bathroom because they refuse to leave any behind. It was how we spent the remainder of the evening until we finally stumbled back home, tired and emotionally drained.
I’d wanted to climb into bed until Simon rounded the corner, his face void of its normal color. Screaming ensued, waking everyone in the building as Matthew stumbled around with a limp Thorne. Blood coated Matthew, butThornewas in worse shape, arms shredded to his elbows. From personal experience, I recognized that the edges were too serrated to be from anything other than some type of broken glass.
I was too numb to react as Simon and Liam jumped in. All I managed to do was stare at the man who’d broken me while they ran to get help.
So tell me, why did I find myself with a vase of flowers, staring at him in the medic wing?
The sheet was folded across his lower torso, bandages coating him from fingers to elbow, hiding the gruesome marks he’d inflicted on himself. Tubes were wound into a spot on his wrist, pumping fluids and blood into his system. He’d lost a lot, and per Simon’s words, it was a miracle he even survived.
Did I feel remorse? No, not at fucking all because he’d destroyed the last thing she’d given me…but there was a tug I couldn’t silence. An undeniable pull I wanted gone. I set the flowers beside him, crossing my arms over my chest as I rubbed them to ease the chill in the room. My eyes were red and puffy, because I hadn’t slept a wink last night.
Simon promised he could fix the necklace, but I wanted it hidden. I didn’t want anyone to find it again, not until I managed to escape this hellhole I’d been thrust into.
Maybe Thorne had the right idea. Living was undeniably harder than dying, and with him making it so clear I had nothing left, who would even miss me?
My friends back home were superficial, based on the items I could buy them or the entertainment I could provide on a club floor. I didn’t have anyone besides Dad and extended family who refused to acknowledge the most significant part of myself. Sure, Simon and Liam were friends, but we’d bonded due to the trauma of this place. They wouldn’t cry over me.
No one would.
I inhaled, my breath shaky as my fingers curled and uncurled. “Fuckyou,” I muttered, hoping he heard me in whatever state he was in. “Fuck you for everything, for making me mad you did this shit. Forbreakingme when I clearly didn’t mean it. Hell, I don’t even know whatIwant, and you wanted me to fix you?”
My fingers dug into the bridge of my nose. What the fuck was I doing? Venting to a near corpse? To the man who’d inflicted every bit of pain I still felt?
I opened my mouth, but a throat cleared, turning my attention to my father. I rolled my eyes, but I was too tired to find the will to fight anymore.
“Surprised to see you visiting your commander,” he hummed, kicking the door shut behind him. “All things considered.”
“Obeying the chain of command,” I replied, that once lively spark replaced with the robotic tone I knew he’d enjoy. “It’s frowned upon not to provide a gift.”
“Since when have you obeyed anything?” he asked, coming to stand beside me. “You’ve been nothing but a worthless, disobedient pain in my ass your entire fucking life.”
“Youwon, isn’t that enough?” My fingers pressed into my arms, gripping hard enough to bruise. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. I’m tired.”
