Jordan’s light and honesty. Even when she gets lost in her crystal woo-woo and all that manifestation crap, underneath, she’s more real than I’ve been in years.
Me? I’m the weapon. The animal. The monster. The Shark. I exist to destroy on command. No room for clarity or softness for people like us.
Valeria frowns. “Did you ask her what she wanted? Or did you just tell her what you decided for the both of you?”
Neither.
I didn’t say anything about that.
Why talk about things that will never exist?
But Valeria…
I held her when she was a baby. Not for long, but still, I was present. I watched her grow up. She’s still just a sheltered kid. What does she know about anything? She spends her days browsing social media and choosing which outfit to party in.
But she’s got this right. She sees what I did and knows me well enough to guess.
I didn’t save Jordan by leaving. I didn’t protect her from anything. I handled her and made the decision myself. I treated her like another asset, as someone to manage.
Then, as soon as things got dangerous, I walked away.
I told her where to go, how to act, and what to feel. Built a box and locked her in.
I went back to being exactly what she called me in the beginning.
Loner. Controller. Shark.
After being so much more, I couldn’t believe it and bolted instead of trying.
I wasn’t noble. I was scared. I didn’t run away to help her, but because I couldn’t accept needing anyone that much.
Kolya, Valeria, and Alexei just watch silently as I leave the room and march down the hall to the front door. No time for second-guessing.
In the front hall, Roman, Igor, and Vanya huddle, plans of war in their voices.
Roman shakes his head, holding up a hand to stop Vanya. “No. Being a donor might get you in, but it also affixes our names to the building and gets the IRS involved. We’re not doing that. Use your charm to get in and not my money, which will trigger a tax audit. Or worse, give that detective another lead to follow.”
Vanya huffs before straightening. “It will take longer, but I’ll start learning who I need to get close to. Then I’ll head out.”
I don’t break my stride. I just cut through with my head down, aiming for the only thing that matters anymore.
When Roman glances my way, I speak without stopping.
“I’m going to get her.”
Roman nods. One sharp motion. “Go.”
That’s all the encouragement I need.
Chapter 39
Jordan
I sit cross-legged on my threadbare rug.
With my spine straight, I rest my open palms on my knees.
The salt lamps are gone, chilled and unplugged, tucked in the closet like pieces of a life I barely decipher. Sunlight streams through the streak-free windows. Dust motes hang in the air, shimmering and tumbling in a dance.
