He’s having a panic attack.
“We need to take her to the hospital,” he blurts out through the sobs.
“We need to go, Adrien,” I say, my voice cold, grabbing his elbow and trying to pull him off the floor.
But he doesn’t want to let her go.
His white shirt is soaked with her blood. I quickly cut out the tattoo from the body of the target and put the disgusting piece of skin in my pocket.
“She’s dead, Adrien, let’s go,” I yell at him to snap him out of it and I pick him up, pushing him out of the booth and out of the club in seconds. He’s stumbling on the way out, holding his hair, trying to rip it out of his head while I keep pushing him outside the club.
We get to our bikes, Adrien takes his helmet, his bloody hands shaking, tears running down his face. I cup his cheeks with both hands, looking at him apologetically.
“It’s not your fault, I promise.”
He nods, eyes empty.
As soon as we get on the highway leading us out of the city, we push past the speed limit.
The lights are turning into a colorful blur, the bike rumbling under me.
I turn off my Bluetooth so Adrien won’t hear me as I let the tears spill out of the corners of my eyes, silently swearing and breathing in sharp bursts.
I don’t know how long I can keep doing this. Seeing Adrien like this. I need to get him out too.
There’s so much on my plate, I can’t. I don’t know how to save one of them without putting the other one in danger. I can’t do it all. I’m fucking useless.
They should’ve never adopted me. They should’ve never found me and my sister.
?
We haven’t said a word to each other since we parked our bikes in the garage. We’re sitting in the lobby while I face the main door for my own peace of mind, downing a second glass of whisky.
It’s disgusting.
Both of us are sweating like pigs, slouched back in the chairs, exhausted and ruined. Adrien didn’t wash the blood off, his white shirt completely soaked, the blood on his hands dried, turning into flakes and falling onto the ground.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” he says quietly, his expression still hollow.
He takes off, and I stay, staring into blank space.
I don’t know how long I sit there. I strip off the suit jacket with the tie and drink—what, five more glasses of that disgusting poison.
My throat and insides burn. My head is slumped back against the backrest, the ceiling spinning above me.
I let my eyes close, ready to fall asleep and never wake up into this life again.
But there’s nowhere to go in my dreams. There hasn’t been a single moment in my life that wasn’t pitch-black and full of pain.
The only place I ever had was her—and that’s just a memory now, which somehow hurts even worse. I can’t go back there.
Going back means remembering that whatever I had, whatever I felt, was temporary. Something I was never meant to keep. If I’d never had it, she wouldn’t be here now.
I shut my eyes, sliding into the darkness.
Kasien.
I hear her screaming.
