I smile a little, setting a hand on the list he left. “You wanted a deal with the devil, Agent Riley? Be careful what you ask for…”
He seems to contemplate it for a moment before giving a clipped nod. “Fine. I’ll get a message through.”
“Thank you, dismissed.”
I don’t watch him leave, and I barely wait for the door to close behind him before I sweep my arm over my desk, letting the sound of breaking glass and other items smashing to the floor soothe me.
If you want something done right, it’s best to do it yourself. I never should have trusted those idiots to make sure the explosions went off without a hitch. No matter, any of those who didn’t get shot by the enemy, or caught in the blast, won’t live long enough to regret their mistake. I’ll see to that.
As for Sebastian… I grab the list of names he claims to be trustworthy, or at least malleable. I only recognize a few, from my efforts in making good with the feds and other law enforcement agencies. I have to admire the kid’s guts…he’s smart, and clearly knows what he wants: the freedom to do whatever he fancies while carrying a badge.
But there's one thing he’s forgetting…I have played the game longer than he’s been alive. Empires aren’t built in a day, and making demands of a King? Well…that never ends favorably. I’ll let him think he’s in control, if for no other reason than I have more important problems at hand.
For now, he’s good for keeping an eye on the LEOs, if nothing else. Eventually though, the cat will tire of playing with the rat, and when that happens, well…my late wife always did like me in the color red.
My mind is foggy as I swim to the surface of consciousness. For a moment, I can’t think. Feelings crash over me: fear, panic, even regret. Yet, I’m not in that concrete room anymore…
I glance around, trying to figure out what’s going on, and I notice Roman is fast asleep, curled into a ball. All I can do is stare at him. His beauty. His vulnerability.
There’s such a complexity to him. The heart he keeps hidden—or tries to, at least. But I see it. And I wish I could stab Cristian myself for ever making Roman think he needs to be someone he’s not, to put himself in a box. Roman defies boxes.
The emotions he has…I may not understand them all, but damn if there isn't freedom in being unafraid of the storm. To find love, even when it’s unconventional. His limitless ability tograsp that, to give his whole heart over and over…I’m in awe of it. And that makes what needs to happen so much harder…
Thankfully, my oxygen mask was taken off at some point, so I’m able to roll out of the bed silently. Standing there for a moment, I steel myself for the steps I need to take. I give Roman one last glance, wishing I had the words to tell him how much I love him…how much he means to me. I know I can do this, because Roman will be here. Time will march on, and my family and loved ones will be safe because they have him.
Using every skill Antonio taught me, I head toward the door, mimicking Ghost. The door isn’t closed all the way, letting me peek out. There’s nobody in the immediate corridor, which surprises me. Usually Doc or Sarah are haunting the area, but they must have needed to rest.
It reinforces that I’m doing the right thing, otherwise it wouldn’t be so easy to slip out into the hallway. Walking forward, I head out of the medical wing, watching for signs of anyone else nearby.
I stop for a moment when I hear a nurse murmuring to someone else, but she’s in another room. Barely breathing, I make it past without her noticing. When I get out of the medical wing, there are more people, even though it’s the dead of night. A guard. A maid. I act as if it’s normal for me to be wandering around, despite wearing a stupid hospital gown. The guard frowns, but my haughty glare stops him from voicing any words. Antonio’s lessons in being invisible by being visible never made more sense than in this moment.
Finally, I make it to my room. Stepping inside, I breathe in the stale air, letting acceptance flow over me. I barely look at the bed; unused for the most part, and when it was, the sleep was never easy. It was merely a cold place to lay my head after losing my Master.
I head toward the bathroom, needing the cold tiles below my feet for this. I’d hate to make the maids try to clean the carpet…
Fuck, I hate that they’ll have to deal with the aftermath as it is. Yet, it’s not enough to stop me.
Not when I know this is right. This is what needs to be done. I can’t live with the sins that mock my mind, that weigh my soul down, and the innocent blood that covers my hands, no matter how many times I try to wash it away.
I open a drawer by the sink, unsurprised to see one of my knives still there. A weird place to keep it for some, I suppose. Still, it makes sense to scatter weapons. And after Peter…I know exactly how much pain can be caused in a bathroom.
Frowning, I examine the blade. It’s one Master gave me. As much as I want to use it on myself, to set myself free, the idea of using something he gave me for that…it doesn’t seem right.
I know the rest of the family struggle with my love for my Master, but I have no words to explain it. At the end of the day, Master is my soulmate. I may never have meant to fall in love with Tennant and Hollis, but I did. Still, the love I have for Master, the deepness of it, that doesn’t go away easily. I tried to break it, tried to move on, but the truth is…part of me will always be owned by Il Padrone, and it’s a part I can’t cleave off. At least, by doing this, I won’t hurt my Daddy or Owner anymore, because I can’t face a life without my Master, even if…
Even if I was whole. If I hadn’t taken someone’s innocence. If I was stronger. If…
Shaking my head, I push all those thoughts away.Focus. All I need to do is end it and the pain will go away. The thoughts, the panic, the fucking hurt. All of it.
It’s better for me. And for those around me. I’m too broken beyond repair, and the punishment should fit the crime… An eye for an eye… The innocence stolen makes my life forfeit, and Idon’t want the others to have to do it. So I’ll be strong, I’ll do it myself.
Taking a deep breath, I punch the mirror. The sound of glass breaking is louder than I expected. Swallowing, I grab a shard, wincing as it bites into my palm. It’s certainly sharp enough. I don’t look at the broken pieces still stuck to the wall, not wanting to see my reflection. The monster in the mirror can finally go away. Can finally have some peace.
I stumble to the wall and slide down it. Sitting, I stare at my arms and the broken piece of glass. I pray I have enough strength, enough courage. I barely notice the tears that are falling as I press the glass against my skin, digging as deep as possible.
One slice won’t be enough, so I force myself to continue. Again. And again. As the glass becomes slippery with blood, and things blur together…I keep telling myself I can’t give up. I need this done. I need… Fuck. I just need to die.Please…please, if there is a God, let there be mercy. Let me go far away from here…
My thoughts spiral. Time loses meaning. And eventually, I slip out of reality. Blackness closes in. It's so cold when I thought it’d be warm…God, please let this be the end…
