“No, if we don’t piss him off, he has no reason to look for her. We made a deal with his father,” Adrien adds, then he looks as if he's lost in thoughts.
Oh God. My gut starts to turn into a disgustingly painful knot. Kasien leans in and grabs my face with one hand, staring into my eyes.
“We can do this. You need to stay strong today, promise?”
I nod but I feel dizzy.
I’m putting all of them in danger.
“Hey, Troubles.” Adrien takes me out of my thoughts, and I look at him as he continues, “stop blaming yourself, I know this look.”
How can he read my face so well?
We all get out of the bed, and they both take me to my suite, reassuring me everything will be okay and showing me how to use the dagger one more time, before they leave to change and I take the beautiful red dress from the box on my table, instantly remembering last night.
My chest is so tightened with anxiety the memory makes my eyes water but I push the tears down and get ready, trying to awaken all the bravery I have left.
I slip into the dress, the red fabric hugging my body like spilled blood, and stare at my reflection until I almost don’t recognize myself.
Tonight, I’m not just going to some ridiculous ball. I’m walking straight into the lion’s mouth and pretending I don’t know I’m already on the menu.
Kasien
Age 19
The water hammers against the back of my skull so hard it feels like it’s trying to cave it in. I sit on the shower floor, elbows on my knees, head tipped back against the cold marble. I tilt my face up and let the stream hit me straight on, needles of hot water stabbing at my eyes until everything blurs.
I vomit again. It doesn’t help. Nothing helps.
I still see the body when I close my eyes. The way the head slumped. The way the blood spread. I feel it under my fingernails, sticky, too real. I keep thinking that if I throw up hard enough it’ll take the images with it. It never does. It’s getting worse. More frequent. Sylvia doesn’t want to “burden” her men anymore, so most of the cleanup falls on Adrien and me.
Good soldier. Good boy. Convenient monster.
I unclench my fists and lift my hands in front of my face, watching the water run over them. The skin is rubbed raw from scrubbing, but there are still faint rusty shadows clinging to the cuticles, around the tips.
These are the hands that touch my girlfriend.
Almost a year of lying to her. Of acting like I’m clean when I crawl into her bed with these hands.
At least I haven’t let anyone except Kiara touch me. I took Sylvia’s punishments instead.
My chest tightens and the pressure climbs up into my throat, pushing behind my eyes until tears slip out and mix with the water. For a second, I just sit there, shaking, my jaw clenched so hard my teeth ache.
Natalya is eighteen in one month.
We’re ready.
Offshore accounts, scattered money, exit plans. Enough to disappear, to start over. New lives. New names. Clean hands.
Kiara will understand. I’ll make her understand. I’ll give her the best life I’m capable of, even if I have to burn this one down to do it.
I sit there until the water runs lukewarm and my skin feels numb. When I finally force myself up, my legs are shaky. I grab a towel, dry off in a daze, and pull on clean boxers from the drawer. By the time I walk into my room, rubbing my hair with the towel, I’m almost back in control. And then I freeze.
Kiara is sitting on my bed.
She has that nervous little smile on her face, cheeks flushed red, knees pressed together like she’s not sure if she’s allowed to be comfortable here.
Fuck.
