Page 28 of The Unravelings

Our interaction in the warehouse filters through my mind as I aimlessly walk away from the spot I was stuck in. There was a weird desperation in Jonathan’s voice—something I can’t really place, though. Was it the pressure from his boss to keep me here and get this done? Or was it Jonathan’s idea in the first place?

I don’t understand anything happening right now. I’m so numb from sending one of my only allies off to his own doom. I’d never tell him, but I’ll miss Jordy. His laugh and jokes. He knows how to drag me from this hole I’ve been somehow thrust into.

My limbs tingle. My head fucking hurts as a fog rolls in, clouding my thoughts.

JJ helped kill me. I saw him. They held me down. They sliced my mother and sister right in front of me, leaving me for last.

“Don’t look, Baby,” my mother whispers, side-eyeing me as they force her chin up. “I love you both so much—” But her words trailed off as the knife slid easily across her throat.

I squeeze my eyes shut, my breath coming quickly as a loud thump happens beside me.

Fingers squeeze my cheeks, and someone hits the side of my head with their fist. “Open your eyes and watch.”

I suck in a breath, nearly falling to my knees. The crisp memories flow through my mind easily. Like I never locked them away, forbidding myself to remember their murders. My murder.

Franco, Huxley, JJ, and Mack were all there, staring deep into my eyes. No life. Only darkness swirled there. The light they had before had been plucked away and replaced by something different. Very different. Even their body language. The wrinkles beside their eyes.

They were different. Yet the same. Yet… Were they?

JJ’s sobs and tears flash through my mind, hurling at the speed of light and forcing me to see his confusion and anguish.

No. Wait. I shake my head, bringing more memories to the forefront of my mind.

Words barely left their lips through the entire ordeal, like they couldn’t bear to speak to me or show me a hint of compassion. Why would they? They were there to take me out and leave me to die in a fiery tomb.

They could hide behind their masks without a care. Only offering a few parting words.

“Die knowing we used you.”

They didn’t have to stab me to death. Their words were enough to snuff out the fight writhing inside me. Die knowing we used you. We never loved you. I could have possibly crawled toward the door and safety. I could have maybe lived for another few seconds before the flames swallowed everything.

But I didn’t. I gave in to the darkness that swallowed me whole. And yet, I somehow survived.

I lick my lips when a phantom burning sensation crosses over my throat, and my fingers prod at the scar there. The constant reminder. Like the burns lining my face. That night lives in infamy inside my brain. Their eyes. Their cruelty. The sharp end of a knife stabbing through the flesh of my throat. The fire spread everywhere until blackness took over, leaving me at its mercy.

I’m a survivor, though. I’ve done the impossible by walking away from the flames that should have killed me. I lived. Survived. Like I always have. Between my father’s cruel words and actions and then losing my life to the people I trusted most, I’ve survived hell.

So, why should this mission be any different? Why should I let this defeat me?

Answer? I shouldn’t.

I should grab JJ by the horns and show him what I need him for. Demand that he doesn’t tell the others through blackmail or other means, and let me continue as Oliver in his notorious frat. All while I take Franco down and report back to Veritas. Then, I can be on my merry way.

Far, far away from here.

That’s the dream, at least. But my dreams never go according to plan. They’re always flying off the tracks and spiraling toward more and more bullshit.

That’s precisely what this case is. Bullshit. I understand that I’m the only one who knows these gangs like the back of my hand. The danger, though, is escalating to new heights. Heights I’m not comfortable with. Heights I want to run from, change my name—again—and never return to this undercover life.

Anxiety creeps up my calves, like vines weaving their way through my veins. My breath constricts. My fingers tremble. My mind spirals into the deepest, darkest abyss I’ve ever felt. I’m falling. Fast. Hard. It’s unstoppable.

I’m fucking trapped here. In this mission. In these clothes.

I can’t.

Not right now.

No matter how badass I truly am. I’m spiraling quickly. Worse than when I found out I was staying here, and my desperate need to run was in full effect. It’s escalating now. Reaching high. Suffocating me in the worst possible way.