Glass shattered, and he flinched, giving me the distraction I needed to get the hell out of the house. I was running away, no question about it, but I didn’t have any better options. I needed space, distance, time to process and get over my broken heart. I had every intention of coming back after I had some time to calm down and breathe. I wasn’t going for good, just for now. But I couldn’t stay and let them convince me otherwise.
Because where the fuck would that lead? Absolutely nowhere. Nothing would change, and we’d be right back in the same position.
“DeLuna, stop running,” Leon shouted after me as I burst through the front door. “Come back here and talk to me.”
“Screw you, Marx!” I shouted back, throwing open the door to the rusty old van that Tito had so generously donated. I paused only long enough to fire off two bullets. One into the front left tire of the Aston Martin, another into Kai’s motorcycle tire. Them following wasn’t in my plan. “You wanted me to pick, so I did. I picked me.”
I slammed the door and gunned the cranky old engine. Fuck them both for putting me in that position. But more than that, fuck me for putting me in that position. Had I really been so dick drunk that I believed we could live happily ever after?
Tears stung at my eyes as I drove away, and I couldn’t help glancing in the mirror. Both Leon and Kai stared after me, looking helpless and shellshocked, but I blocked out the regret that was already crowding my chest. Instead, I focused on Stanley, wobbling around in the back of the van with a Christmas bow still attached to his tallest frond.
“We don’t need either one of them, do we, Stanley?” I whispered, my voice choked up with grief. “You’re the only man I need in my life. You’d never force me to choose.”
Soft flakes of snow started falling as I drove away from the mansion, and I tossed my phone out the window. Fuck going back. There was nothing there for me anymore. I’d survive just fine on my own, like I had my entire life. At least this time, I no longer had anything left to lose.
Because I’d just left my heart and soul in the rearview mirror.
47
My hardened shell cracked with every mile I put between myself and them. But I didn’t stop. I didn’t turn around and go running back, begging forgiveness for what I’d said. Because I didn’t need their forgiveness. Nothing I’d said was untrue, no matter how much it hurt.
They wanted me to choose, and I chose me. Simple as that. I wouldn’t be forced into picking one of them over the other, because there could be no right decision. I would forever resent the one I chose and grieve the one I lost. Fuck that tragic existence.
Snow fell heavier as I drove out of Shadow Grove, with no real destination in mind. Hestia Safe Houses owed me one, though. Maybe I could seek refuge in one of their locations until I figured out a game plan. Shit, I didn’t even have shoes on.
The cold set in, despite my usual tolerance for extreme temperatures. Maybe it was the emotional exhaustion wreaking havoc on my body, but I started shivering so hard I needed to reach over and crank the heating in the shitty old rust-bucket.
All these heightened emotions were doing a fucking number on me. I wasn’t used to feeling so much… and I didn’t like it. I wanted to just erase the last three months entirely and go back to my life. I was happy before Leon… before Kai. Now all I felt was bone deep pain.
Running a hand over my face, I tried to focus on the road ahead. So much so that I didn’t see the truck coming at me from a cross street until it was too late.
I jerked my wheel, pushing my foot down on the gas, but my reaction time was too fucking slow. The bigger vehicle slammed into the side of my rusty van like a wrecking ball, pushing me for some distance before my van dislodged, caught an edge, and flipped.
The whole world seemed to stop as glass shattered, my seat belt jerked, and the limp, useless airbags deployed. All I could do was brace myself and hope for the fucking best.
After what felt like a lifetime, my van came to a stop and the world went silent. Physical pain ricocheted through my chest, and I blinked groggily. My vision was obscured, and it took a moment to realize there was blood running from a cut in my head. I lifted a heavy hand to swipe it away, then looked around.
What the fuck just happened?
My van was on its side, and a glance into the back told me Stanley was in a bad way. Fuck. I needed to get help.
Car doors slammed, and dread pooled in my aching guts. This wasn’t a random accident.
Frantic, I searched for Kai’s gun. It was in the footwell, and I quickly released the seat belt so I could reach it.
Boots—army-type boots—crunched over broken glass as several people approached my wreck, but they were slow, measured steps. If it was an innocent bystander coming to offer help, they would be hurried and frantic. Not calm and cautious.
I went with my gut. The moment someone stepped into view through my smashed window, I fired. The man crashed to the ground, my bullet having caught him in the leg, and spat curses. He was decked out in tactical blacks, though, and I knew my instinct had been correct.
“Get her out of there,” someone ordered, their words clipped and dripping authority. “Quick, before her backup gets here.”
Fuck that. I fired again, warning them not to fucking try me. But I was at an awkward angle and injured. I didn’t even see the guy sneaking up behind until he seized my hair in a brutal grip, using it to drag me kicking and fighting from the wreckage of the van.
He knocked my gun from my hand, but I fought back. It was useless, though, with the aches of the crash rendering my punches weaker than a wet kitten.
A solid fist slammed into my face, making me black out momentarily. The sound of a gunshot snapped me back into consciousness, and I crumpled to the gravel as the man holding me fell over dead.
“Anyone else hits my daughter, you can expect the same fate,” a woman barked, and I raised my face just far enough to see her walking toward me in severe black high heels.
What the fuck did she just say?
“Pick her up,” the woman snapped to someone else. “Get her in the van and sedate her. We don’t need any more casualties today.”
Rough hands grasped me, lifting me up, and my vision blacked again. I must have hit my head harder than I realized in the crash, because I couldn’t muster the strength to fight back. All I could do was squint at the woman in charge.
She met my gaze with cool, sapphire blue eyes. Her white blonde hair was pulled back from her face in a pristine chignon, and her expression was fierce.
Daughter. She’d called me her daughter… and now I believed it.
To be continued in
KILL ORDER
Coming soon June 25th, 2022
KILL ORDER
COMING JUNE 24TH, 2022
kill order
noun
a document issued by the Circle allowing for the murder of a mercenary with no agency repercussions. A rarely-wielded tool, the kill order brings the Circle’s full wrath down on its target.
Worthless, useless, waste of space. That’s what my father liked to remind me on a daily basis. I was a stain on his pristine reputation. We both were, Moana and I. He taught us that we were less than nothing, we were an inconvenience. Slugs on the cabbage of life. But he was wrong.
Because of him, my sister and I dedicated our lives to helping others. Fighting for others who couldn’t fight for themselves. We took risks, gained ranks, and eventually discovered a purpose. My big sister, my best friend… her pain and loss gave us the direction we both so desperately needed.