Chapter 80
2466words
Asher is breathing evenly beside me in the bed. It's a comforting sound. I rock sideways to hug him, eager for his presence to lull me back to sleep. The slope of his nose and strong chin glow in the starlight through the window.
And that's when I see it.
Someone else is standing over him.
In the diffused light, Madison's hair looks like cloud vapor. It drifts from side to side as she hovers over Asher with something clutched in her fist. Something sharp.
Time is sluggish; it takes decades for me to draw enough air into my lungs.
Madison strikes downward. I scream simultaneously.
Asher's eyes pop open. In a blur, he shoots his arm up, snatching Madison by her thin wrist just before she can touch him. Grunting, he twists his body, wrenching her violently. She lets out a cry of pain, and the item in her hand clatters to the floor.
My eyes have adjusted fully now and I can see the syringe.
Its metal tip glints where it lies on the rug.
'I'm sorry!" she sobs, her knees going slack. Asher is the only thing keeping her on her feet. He rises from the bed, pulling her onto her tiptoes. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she babbles, tears streaking her ruddy cheeks.
Asher drags her from the room. Her desperate screams echo through the crack in the door, fading the further away he takes her.
She was lying. He was right; this was a trap.
He'll get the truth out of her by any means necessary.
And cruelly, a dark thought crosses my mind—a thought that frightens me.
I won't stop him this time.
Asher
Being right has its downside. Especially in this case.
'Please," Madison groans, cowering on the floor of my office. 'Please, don't hurt me."
How odd to think we were in this room hours earlier while she barely uttered a sound. Now she can't seem to shut up.
'Quiet," I grumble, pacing by my desk. 'The only thing I want to hear out of your mouth is an explanation."
She sniffles, hiding her face in a tangle of knees and arms. 'Okay. I'll tell you everything."
Camila said she was fifteen, but right now, she looks even younger.
'How did you meet Yannick?"
The door opens behind me; Camila leans in, sees my enraged face, and freezes. Amazingly she doesn't back out; she enters, shutting herself inside. Madison glances up to see who's joined us. Her puffy eyes widen. Camila looks at her with pity before turning away. 'I just wanted to see what was going on," she explains.
I motion at Madison sharply. 'Talk. Now."
'I told her the truth," she gasps. Rubbing her wet cheeks, she takes a shaky breath. 'I was kidnapped at a tattoo parlor."
My heart jerks sideways before I aim my anger at Camila. 'You knew?"
Camila tenses on the spot with her hands lifting in defense. 'She has another tattoo on her that I was curious about. She said she ran away from home and got it as a way to rebel against her parents."
'And you believed her?" I snarl, bursting with ripples of hot frustration. How can I keep Camila safe when she keeps details like this from me?
Camila draws herself up like I've offended her. 'I didn't think?—"
'Exactly! You didn't think." I turn back to Madison, looming over her with new, deep-rooted rage. 'Keep talking!"
She recoils as quickly as if I'd slapped her. 'I was brought to a place called the Winter Palace. There were other girls there like me, all of us forced to undergo training."
The Winter Palace. That familiar name hits me like a truck. If she's trying to make me feel bad for her, it's a waste of effort. I won't allow any room in my heart to forgive someone who attacked me. And someone who tricked not just me ... but ... I glance at Camila.
I'm furious on her behalf.
Madison keeps talking. 'After a few days, I met him." She peers up at me, then back at her feet. 'Yannick. He promised me my freedom if I did something for him. I don't know why he bothered with a reward though, since he also threatened to murder my parents if I didn't do it. I'd have done anything he wanted at that point."
Typical Yannick.
'Let me guess. He wanted you to slip close to me with this story about escaping his clutches?" I ask coldly. 'Then kill me with that syringe?"
'Yes," she admits.
I walk right, then left, my mind turning. 'Show me the tattoo."
Madison licks her lips anxiously, but she has no fight left in her. She turns away from me and lifts her flannel pajama shirt—the one Layla let her borrow, which rankles me after her betrayal—and exposes her naked skin.
Crouching, I examine the oblong shape carved into her left shoulder.
'It looked like a baton to me," Camila whispers.
'It's not." Shaking my head, I rise to my full height. 'It's a dagger hilt. The blade would have been added once she made her first kill."
It was meant to be me.
Camila goes as pale as Madison. 'I had no idea," she says regretfully. 'I'm sorry."
'If you hadn't stopped me from searching her myself, I would have seen this. I would have also found the syringe."
Her posture is infected by enough shame that she sinks closer to the floor. I loathe seeing her beaten down like this. She's too naive! She should have listened to me! Perhaps I'm being harsh, but that's the way the world—my world—is.
Camila needs to understand what's at risk.
But God, look at her ... cowering in front of me like this.
I know that I'm not in the right. But I can't say that right now.
I turn those negative feelings toward the source of this mess. Towering over Madison, where she shakes in a useless pile of limbs, I snarl, 'I should kill you for this."
'Asher!" Camila cries. 'No!"
'Not because you tried to kill me," I seethe, my arm snaking down, gripping her by the collar of her shirt. The red and black plaid starts to rip when I haul her to her feet. 'But because you betrayed her trust."
Camila freezes, realizing I'm talking about her.
'She believed in you," I go on, shaking the girl until her teeth rattle in her skull. 'How dare you steal that away? How fucking dare you make her fight for you when you're no better than the scum on the bottom of my shoe?"
Madison grabs at my wrists, trying to get purchase. Her nails scrape, raising pink lines, but I ignore the hot pain. I keep shaking her.
'Asher, stop it!" Camila cries, launching at me, tugging at my forearm. 'This is insane! How can you be so consumed by revenge that you'd kill a child?"
Her accusation pierces me as deep as the syringe would have if Madison had attacked quicker. Wrinkling my nose, I glare down at Camila while Madison hangs limply in my grip.
'She was sent to kill me. Don't think she wouldn't have murdered you too if you'd gotten in her way."
'She's a child! A child who's been abused and frightened into submission! You can't blame her for how she is!"
'Of course I can!" I roar. 'You're asking me to forgive someone who tried to end my life!"
'You don't have to forgive her, but you can try to understand!"
My chest rises and falls, each breath tasting like glowing embers. 'You'd have me pat her on the head and send her on the way with a fucking bouquet of flowers." I drop Madison to the floor—she lands on her knees with a yelp.
Camila bends down to assist her. 'Madison, are you okay?" she asks gently.
I watch with disgust growing like a tumor. 'One day, your softheartedness will be the death of me."
She flinches—there's pure hurt in her wide eyes. As she cradles Madison like a baby, I'm assaulted by the odd image of the future. Camila … hugging our own child as protectively. Will she do that because I'm towering over them like I am now? Will she cradle our child from its monster of a father?
It cools some of my rage.
Jerking around sharply, I speak to the wall. 'Thank Camila, Madison. She's the reason you're still alive."
Madison whimpers. 'What will happen to me now?"
Yes, what will happen? To be only fifteen and go through so much so quickly … I don't like admitting it, but Camila has a point. How can I blame this girl for what she was forced to do? The real culprit has been in my sights for years.
Yannick … the bastard ruins every life he comes in contact with. Thinking of Camila's determination to protect the girl, I let some of the tension slip from my body. My voice comes out smoother, less cut up by grit. 'I'll find a way to reunite you with your parents."
Madison inhales loudly before covering her mouth. The air that's expelled sounds like a muffled cry of joy. Tears dribble endlessly down her splotchy cheeks. Undeniably, she didn't expect to live through the night. Once I stopped her attempt to assassinate me, she gave up all hope. Now it's bloomed again. She looks away from me, as if she fears one wrong move will change my mind.
Camila rubs the girl's back, rocking her, whispering in her ear. The pair of them talk in a hush. I don't linger. I'm possessed by a need to get away from the scene. I came close to killing that girl. I really did.
Only Camila stayed my hand. Maybe I should thank her for preserving what's left of my blackened soul.
In the hallway, I call Mila. 'You need to come here now."
'What? Why?" she asks in an urgent voice.
My eyes track to my office door. 'That girl turned out to be more of a problem than anticipated."
'What happened?"
'I'll explain later. Just get here. I want you to take her somewhere else until you can find where her parents are."
Mila is quiet for a moment. 'Is it safe to bring her to them? Yannick will want her back. He never lets his property go without a price."
Mila knows that all too well.
'Then I'll leave it to you to find a way to make sure they're all safe from him. By any means necessary."
'You always give me the hardest jobs."
'Can you get it done?"
'Oh yes," she chuckles darkly. 'With pleasure."
Camila stands in my bedroom, right in front of my window. The thin, silken bronze robe clings to her every curve. The light from outside forms a halo behind her long, loose hair. With her rounded belly and the soft glow of the light, she resembles a saint from one of the oil paintings in my hallway.
The sky outside is painted a brilliant scarlet. An hour has passed since Madison attacked me and Mila arrived to slip her off my property. I don't know where they've gone, and it's better if I don't know.
I don't want to think about that girl. She reminded me of how easy it is to let the beast out.
'Camila," I say.
She doesn't look at me. 'I'm sorry."
'For what?" I ask, moving toward her.
Her chin tips to her chest. 'I didn't realize how dangerous mercy could be."
Hair shrouds her cheeks from how she lowers her head, speaking to the floor, her voice growing more agitated with each choppy syllable.
'I was a fool to believe everything she said. If I'd let you or maybe Mila search her, or if I'd just told you everything she said and that I saw, none of this would have happened. You wouldn't have almost been killed, and I wouldn't be standing here wondering why I bother to give anyone the benefit of the doubt when I keep. Getting. Proven. Wrong!"
A sinkhole opens in my chest. The longer she talks, the more cavernous it becomes. I grab her by the arms, ignoring how she tries to shake me off.
'You didn't do anything wrong, ptichka. Madison was given the perfect set of words designed to appeal to good people like you." Stroking her cheek, I force her to look into my eyes. She looks ready to fight or flee. 'The part of you that dares to allow others close to your heart isn't anything to be ashamed about."
Tears rise up, then spill over, turning her lashes damp like dew on tufts of grass. Camila collapses in my arms, allowing me to hold her and guide her back to bed. She weighs nothing, and it's easy to curl my body around her, settling on the blankets with her head tucked under my chin. She continues to cry, the tears staining her shirt and my hands as I wipe them away. But they keep coming.
'You'll be okay," I hush.
'It doesn't feel like it." Her voice is all cracks.
Hugging her protectively, I listen to her pulse as it flows between her skin into my own. I try to feel our baby's as well. I can't, not yet, but I know someday I will.
'I need to thank you. Tonight, your compassion kept me from killing a child."
All her slack muscles morph into rocks.
I continue while stroking her hair. 'You alone had the courage to stand up not just against me, but for what was right." Breathing in, then out, I rub my cheek on her forehead. 'Don't you ever apologize for that."
Other than her rapid breathing, she's gone quiet. In my arms she seems like a fragile thing I have to protect from all the cruelty this world has to offer. Yannick has made her suffer again and again. He tests me through what he does to her.
I'll make him pay.
Camila stays in my arms without budging. She doesn't try to move away or shake me off, and I'm grateful because any attempt would be pointless. I'll never let her go. Not just tonight, as I wait for her to fall asleep, her chest rising and falling in an increasingly gentler rhythm that tells me she's slipped into unconsciousness.
Camila is mine.
She always will be.
