“Listen,devochka,” Popov interrupts me.“From what I know, if the Society has Hartley, he’s long gone. There isnosaving him,” he says in an almost-sympathetic tone, and my hands start to tremble.
The past few months collide with the present, and suddenly I’m overwhelmed by swirling blue. Damien’s sandalwood, musk, and vanilla aura rushes its way into my lungs, and I can’t breathe. Every smile, every laugh, and every endearing look he’s ever given me comes forward to attack me. The pain he carries quickly follows. Each time he inhaled me, each touch—whether it was brief or lengthy—and each tear he’s shed all merges into one image. The muscles in my jaw start to cramp from how tightly I’m gritting my teeth, and my face pulls in agony. It’s his eyes. I can almost see them. The specks of ice that I see in them are overtaking my chest, and I can’t bear it anymore.
“Ash…” Alex lays his hand on my shoulder, and I angrily shrug him off.
“No! He’s lying! Hehasto be!” I raise the knife above my head and drive it into Popov’s leg. He screams out and thrashes, but I hold my hand steady. That stab might as well have been in my heart, because that’s exactly what it feels like. Daisy whines softly, as if she wants to get in on the action, but I keep my focuson Popov’s eyes. “Where is Damien?!” I can feel the urgency take hold in my chest, and that thumping against my ribs makes its way to my ears. The rim around my vision turns red, and then it starts to swim, blocking my ability to see. My hand becomes clammy around the knife handle, but I’m sure to hold it tighter.
Even through the pain, Popov only shakes his head and grits his teeth, but nothing else. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t beg. There are no fucking words—no answers.He doesn’t have answers…
“Tell me where he is!” I scream again, and withdraw the knife, only to bring it down onto his stomach. His blood splatters against me, but I barely register it. When I made contact again, a different blue came before me, and now I’m determined to see another. Each blue hue that I notice, I could match a piece of him or compare it to a moment in time. There isn’t a color that could bloom without being tied to him. He’s in every image of this world, and now my gallery is a wasteland. My hands suddenly feel warm, and that heat starts to creep its way up my arms. The fire that ignited within me twenty-five days ago is now uncontrollable, and I’m allowing it to burn. “Tell me!” I lift it again and plunge it into his chest, only to do it again before he has the chance to speak.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Each time the knife slides in, it pierces him even more easily. The room becomes a muffled cadence of voices, screams, and breathing, but I don’t look away. Even as my other arm joins in to ease the exertion, I don’t stop. I can’t tell what’s real anymore. There’s no way to tell if the screams are Popov’s or Damien’s. Every thought and every reel of my imagination is coming out in my anguish, and I can’t make it go away.
I failed him. This was supposed to solve everything. I certainly didn't expect to leave here tonight wrapped in Damien's arms, but I was really thinking I'd be one step closer to that. I was going to bring him home. We were finally going to have some kind of idea of where he is, and now we’re back to square one. We’ve wasted the past week on a useless lead, and it’s all my fault.
I’m not strong enough…
I stab, and jab, and hit him over and over again, but the pain doesn’t go away. If anything, it makes it even worse. Shrieks continue to fill the room, and I’m not sure if they’re his or mine. This ache in my chest won’t go away. No matter how much I yell, cry, or hold it all in, it never fades. I love him so much that I almost hate him. How could he make me fall so deeply in love with him? Why did he have to crawl into my bones? How could he force his way into my life and become my heart, only to be ripped away? Why have we gone through everything we have just for our time to end here?
We can’t end here…
“Okay, Ash. Come on, he’s dead.” Zeke wraps his arms around me and pulls me off of him. The knife clatters to the floor as I stumble back and try to catch my breath. My chest heaves, and my limbs suddenly feel the strain. The ringing in my ears is all that’s left, and as I look at Popov’s mutilated body, I feel even more disgusted with myself than I did before.
I wasted so much time. I should’ve known not to put all of my eggs in one basket, but I wassosure. The only leads that we have left have either vanished into thin air, or are too out and in the open for us to act. Avery has his own security detail for fuck’s sake, and who’s to say we would get anything out of him anyway? I feel even emptier now than I did before, and I wasn't sure that was possible.
This can't be it. This can't be the last stop—the last effort. There’s no way that this was my last chance… I refuse. The last time he told me he loves mecan'tbe through a phone call, and the final moment I saw himcan'tbe of us driving away from each other.It just can't be!
I just want to tell him that I love him. He said he wanted me to hate him, but I wouldneveractually be able to. His smile affects me too much. His selflessness, his courage, his determination…it’s all something I can’t live without. That gleam in his eyes when he looks at me iseverythingto me. Even something as crazy as the taste of his skin runs through my veins, and I need him to know that I yearn for him the same way that he craves me. I took every word he said to heart, and he has to know that I wouldneverblame him. The only thing he’s at fault for is loving me, and hehasto know that he does it perfectly.
Desperation claws at my chest, and no matter how harshly I thrash or kick, Zeke doesn't let me go. Sobs bubble up in my throat, and as I let it loose, I use that strength to push him off me. This anger is overwhelming. I’ve never felt anything like it before, and I can feel it consuming me. My body hums with a dark energy, and my head begins to pound with the same beat as my heart. It's fast, harsh, and violent—everything Ishouldbe right now, but all I'm doing isfucking crying!
“Clear this entire fucking house! I want to knoweverythinghe did!” I scream again, and Zeke tries to pull me into him another time, but I push him away. There’s a monster crawling under my skin that will only claw its way to the surface if he touches me, and my brother is one of the last people that deserves to be in my destructive path. This dark force is pulsing, and I don’t know what to do with it. I feel like I could either defeat an army or burn myself out, and as I walk away, that energy clings to me.
Daisy follows as I storm off, and I don't bother to try and stop her. She pads softly beside me, and as I burst into the bathroom,she’s sure to clear the doorway before I slam it shut. Shuffling and low voices come from the other side, but I can barely hear them over my own heaving breaths.
This can't be happening…
Daisy whines beneath me, and my heart clenches tighter. Now, I feel even worse. I don't know what to do. Is she upset because I am? Does she need to work? I should’ve let her attack Popov… She was sitting so well and waiting for a command that never came. I didn’t mean to tease her. Am I not taking care of her properly?
I flip the light on and rest my head against the door, hoping that it'll stop the pounding behind my skull. The thump practically echoes between my ears, and there’s no way to tell when it’s going to stop. The doubt continues to swirl around my mind, and even though the room starts to spin softly, I force myself to stay upright.
How did this go so wrong, so quickly? I don't know what I'm doing. Have I done this all wrong? Who else should I have been looking at? I can't do anything right. The thoughts come rushing back, and I can almost hear them taunt me.
I’m not enough.
Not strong enough.
Not smart enough.
Not quick enough.
I’m just not enough!
