Her head snaps up to me at my request, and there’s a newfound anger behind her ember eyes. Something about Victoria, besides the obvious, has angered her so deeply that even the mention of her name is troubling her. My wife can hate whoever she wants, but until I know without a doubt that she’s safe, I’ll need Victoria’s knowledge—and that means Ashia will just have to put these feelings aside for her own sake.
She hesitates, like even the thought of me asking for another woman’s presence is killing her inside, and it might just be my end. The strain on her face starts to loosen, and when she unclenches her fist to reach for my face, but then pulls her hand away, she takes my breath with her. I’ve upset her, and I fucking hate it.
“Okay,” she whispers, and as she turns to step back inside, I reluctantly let her go. With every step she takes away from me, my chest both tightens and eases up at the same time. I hatewatching her walk away from me, but at least she’s unknowingly running away from the threat outside.
I turn sharply and step back out, more desperate than ever to find him. It’s starting to feelwaytoo hot out here, and I want nothing more than to step beside her. I’ve needed her touch more than my heart needed to beat, and I’ve needed her vanilla scent to breathe. Her touch has already eased some of the pain, but until I know I can hold her without fear of her going limp, I’ll have to wait.
A few moments later, light footsteps come from the entryway, and another aura permeates through the air. I’m surprised I recognize it, especially because I was so disoriented every time she was around me, but I can feel her creep upon me like a lost soul.
“You wanted to see me?” Victoria asks, and I’m surprised when I flinch from the cold chill coursing through me. It takes everything in me, but I don’t bother turning around, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. My eyes continue to scour the forest, and I’m too afraid to peel my eyes away.
“Where is he?” I question her quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear. Since Ashia is awake, there’s a good chance everyone else has risen as well, and I don’t need to cause a panic. Victoria doesn’t respond right away. Her quiet steps move a little closer, just until I can barely see her out of my peripheral.
“Where’s who?” she asks curiously.
“Sette.” I grit my teeth. Why is she acting so oblivious? She knows how closely he followed Ashia, and what he did to my father. I saw the hints of remorse in her gaze after she watched the same footage as me. There’s no way I imagined that. “Where the fuck is he?”
She steps in front of me, but I don’t meet her gaze. I can faintly see the concern that’s in her pinched brows and creased forehead, and while I think she’s wearing some of my wife’sclothes, I don’t ask. As long as she gives them back, I don’t care what she does. Plus, if she stole from Ashia, I’m almost positive she wouldn’t be able to walk right now—not with how my wife seems to loathe her.
“He’s dead, Damien. Your guy, Alex, killed him before Ashia even left the hospital,” she reveals, and I finally snap my head down to look at her, taken aback by her statement.
“Hospital? When the fuck was she in the hospital?” I ask rather harshly, and she takes a step back, sensing my obvious distaste for her presence. Ashia said she wasn’t in the car accident, so why the hell was she there? Was she a patient? She didn’t tell me about the cut when I asked before, and now I regret forcing her away.
“I think you should talk to your wife,” Victoria says cautiously. I shake my head lightly and look back at the trees, knowing this is far from over. I’m not sure what they’ve shared with Victoria, if anything at all, but she’s knowledgeable enough to know that Alex killed Sette, and that Ashia was in the hospital. So, she clearly knows more than I do at the moment.
“She doesn’t need to be burdened with this. She needs rest. Who else will they assign to her?”
“I thinkyou’rethe one that needs rest,” she says a little incredulously. I’m not sure if she meant to sound like a smartass, but that’s how I’m taking it.
“I don’t need to sit down. I need you to answer my fucking question.” I stare at her with a sharp gaze, showing her that I don’t have any patience for her detours. She takes a deep breath in, like she’s also losing her patience, and then she crosses her arms.
“No one. They’re all gone, Damien. Do you not remember when we escaped?” Her tone comes off a little condescending, and the heat from the sun instantly becomes more intense.
“I remember killing that bitch with my bare hands. That’s about it.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry. Everyone they had died that day, and there’s a very little chance that more are coming.”
I try to think back to that moment. Images of Victoria’s beating flash through my mind, and then the voices whisper again, like they're forcing me to remember. I vaguely recall just after the life left DeLuca’s body, and then it jumps to Cinque falling to the floor. There are holes from that moment that I just can't seem to put together. Then as I push a little further, something else resurfaces. Bugs start to crawl under my skin, and I have to shift on my feet to keep the sensation at bay.
“Saconne escaped…” I whisper more to myself than her, but she nods anyway and looks out into the trees with me. It’s as if her own ghosts talk to her in the silence by the way her eyes dart from one place to another.
“Yes, he did,” she replies softly.
“Do we need to worry about him coming back?”
“Youdon’t, no. Probably not.”
I take a deep breath in, just so I have a moment to find the resolve to not lash out at her.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I still have to worry about my sister. Yeah, great. We got out, but I don’t know where to go from here,” she replies angrily, but doesn’t look back at me. My blood begins to boil under the afternoon sun, making me even angrier. I step in front of her, halfway hating myself for turning my back to the forest, but I need to get my point across to her as I bore my gaze into hers.
“We’ll figure out how to get your sister, but let me make one thingveryfucking clear. My wife and my daughter are myonlypriorities. I will do what you need because a little girl’s life is at stake, and that is all. We are not friends. You torturing medoesn’t make us pals. I get your sister back to you, and then you get the fuck out of our lives. Do you understand me?”
Disappointment coats her face as my words sink in. I’m not sure what she was expecting to happen. She helped them torture me for fuck’s sake, and now what? She wants to dance around the campfire and singKumbaya? That’s definitely not happening. I understand having to do unholy things for the ones we love, but it doesn’t excuse her in my mind. To me, she’s still a caution sign in the wind. An enemy? Perhaps not, but as of right now, she’s nothing more than another mission.
Another assignment.
