Page 11

Downing a bottle of bourbon before bed usually helps keep the nightmares at bay. Except this time, it didn’t work. The thought of seeing Jude again after all this time, kept me awake until the early hours of the morning. Giving up on the idea of sleep, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and pause as I stare at my bedroom walls. When Jude left, I tore everything down that reminded me of her, and I painted it all black. Now, I have no pictures or personal touches left, because what’s the point? Jude was the best part of me, and she took that with her.

Now, I’m Alyssa Vance’s weapon, dealing out death at her every command. I don’t know what comes after we die, but I have to believe that anything is better than this endless cycle of violence I’m caught in.

That thought will have to wait as Gabe, my police contact, calls, and I know he only does that when it’s important. Gabe works in the homicide department, and while he’s very good at his job, I pay him extremely well to keep an eye on the murders I’ve committed. He pins them on people that deserve it, and it’s a win-win situation for the both of us. I stay out of jail, and he keeps his streets clean.

“Gabe, everything okay?” I answer his call as I clap my hands to turn on the dimmer lights. Walking across my room towards my closet, I balance the phone on my shoulder. “Assuming the murder suicide was you?” He asks me. Standing in front of my closet, I mumble a yes, always mindful of recording devices even if I know Gabe wouldn’t do that to me. He has three children to put through college, and I know our business arrangement will help him do that because his salary at the police station definitely won’t.

“Okay, I’ll take care of it. But next time, a heads up would be nice.” His mild chastisement is irritating since I’m the client here, and I’m about to tell him that before he cuts me off. “Oh, and Sebastian, that’s not the only murder on my desk this morning. There is another very bloody crime scene…and it feels like it could be from someone inyourworld. I’ll let you know what I find.”

Ending the call, I put the murder from my mind as I try to find a respectable outfit in my walk-in closet. What do you wear to see the love of your life after you broke her heart? I want something that says, “I need you to listen even after you threatened to kill me,” and I groan because nothing feels right. It’s all the same, black shirts, slacks, and shoes. I have alookapparently. I keep looking, hoping to find something different, and briefly consider asking Logan to go pick something up for me, when out of the corner of my eye, I see a white shirt hidden in the back of my closet and an idea forms. Grabbing it, along with a pair of suit pants, I put them on and leave the shirt collar unbuttoned. Jude used to love it when I did this, and that’s how I know it’s the right move. It sends the message that I didn’t fall apart after she left. Grabbing a thick gold chain, I add it to the outfit.

Opening the pot of gel on my dresser, I slick my fringe back into my signature style, and I get a glimpse of the finished product in my bedroom mirror. I don’t know what’s worse, hating myself for what I did to Jude, or that I look so much like my mom, the person I hate most in this world. I have her dark hair and crystal blue eyes. The only thing I got from Dad was his tall and lean build.

My tattoos are new; I wonder what Jude will have to say about them. They show from under my shirt, going to my jawbone, the most recent one covered in cling film on my chest under my shirt so it can heal. I started the tattoos after Jude left, one for each victim. Sometimes, it’s a name, a place, or an icon, but I want a way to remember them all. My body has become a confession of their ends brought about by me, and I find it fitting. They deserve that much from me.

Leaving my room, I take the stairs down towards our garage and only stop my descent when I hear someone calling for me. Turning, I find Logan approaching me with an espresso in one hand. “I was wondering why you didn’t show for breakfast. Where are you off to?” Handing the espresso to me, I down it and return the empty cup to her. I swallow, “I need to see Jude.”

She reaches over to fix my collar, and it never fails to choke me up when she looks at me with so much love. If my mother was normal, this was how I would imagine it. Helping me and guiding me when I expected it the least.

Logan has been with my family for as long as I can remember. While my parents ran the empire, she ran the home. I don’t even want to think what would have happened to me if I didn’t have her. Despite my analogy of parenting, Logan looks younger than her years even if I don’t know howold that actually is. She looks casual this morning. She’s wearing a pink tracksuit with her blond hair pulled into a ponytail, and she catches the quizzical look on my face as I note the look of pity on hers.

She smiles gently, “Today’s a cleaning day, but come see me when you’re done. I know it won’t be easy for you.” I want to hug her, but I won’t. So I just leave and carry on to my Lexus in the underground garage. I know I could get someone to drive me, but where’s the fun in that? I’ve always loved driving. It doesn’t matter how chaotic my emotions are, when I’m behind the wheel and pushing the limits of the winding stretches of road, none of it matters.

Driving out of the garage, I’m happy to see I’ve timed this well to avoid rush hour traffic. Except, the drive ahead gives me too much time to think, considering the Rhodes Estate is still a good thirty-minute drive.

After Jude left, and I got rid of my “weakness” as Mom called it, she became harder on me than before. I was assigned all the most dangerous assignments. She called it “toughening me up”. And her thinking was that if I died on a dangerous assignment, then I wasn’t good enough to be a Rogue. A fault of my making, not hers.

Getting back into Jude’s life is going to be difficult. When we broke up, I made up every lie I could think of, from I was sleeping with other people, to Jude bored me, to I needed tofind myself. She needed to believe there was nothing left between us. It worked better than I had hoped for. She was so hurt, and I know better than most; she doesn’t forgive. I know that from what happened with her father. If she won’t forgive him, I sure as hell don’t stand a chance. So that gives me one option only.

I’ve got to tell her the truth. While I still don’t believe she will forgive me, maybe it will mean we can find a compromise. Especially with her lifeon the line, Mom never makes a threat she won’t see through. I know this because I used to have an older sister. I was very young when it happened so I don’t remember her clearly, but according to mom, she was too soft. She cried all the time, so Mom had hertaken careof. No one talks about her, like this would erase her from history. Her name was Saige, and even if I struggle to remember her face, I won’t forget her. Saige is my reminder of what would happen to me too if I didn’t obey. Logan still cries for her, even if she won’t talk about her.

When I had exhibited signs of wanting to paint and beingsofter,Mom sent me along on an assignment where a painter was the target. It was a brutal death, and watching them do it, quickly squashed any cultural desires I had, which, if I look back on it now, was the whole point. It wasn’t long after that when I had to take a life for the first time. I’m pretty sure a small piece of my soul died then, and I lose another part each time I take a life. At the rate I’m going, I’m going to have no soul left.

So I became exactly what my mother wanted me to be. To the world, I’m a vicious asshole with no emotion, and I hate every second of it. Jude knew the truth, though, and she made me feel alive again. She gave me hope. Hope that maybe one day, I wouldn’t need to do this anymore, and I could enjoy life instead of barely surviving it. But that dream died the day I ended things with Jude, and while it’s going to be hard to relive everything I said when I see her, I can survive pain if it will keep her safe. As much as I missed her, and I wanted her to stay for me, I was proud of her for leaving and being strong. She was going to create a future for herself, one we could never have together. It was only temporary for us. I know I’m living on borrowed time, anyway.

It’s my mother’s end goal that I’m struggling to see. To the outside world, all four families appear to be close, and we give off the perception that family is everything to us. But it’s a lie. Power and money are far more important.

Pulling up at the Rhodes Estate, a place I’ve avoided since Jude left, it’s as impressive as I remember. It won’t take long before their guards realize I’m here, and they will never let me in when they do, so I’ve got to be quick. Getting out of my car, I hop over the wall and sprint towards, what I hope, is still Jude’s room.

Because of my ancestor, Amaya Van Helsing, I may look human, but I have a few advantages. They’re what help me do my job so well, but today, it’s the super speed and healing I’m going to need the most. Briefly, I pick up shouting, assuming it’s the guards I’m trying to avoid and scale the wall by her open bedroom window. Launching myself through it, I softly land on my feet and find her unpacking her bag. Jude stops what she’s doing and sniffs the air.

In a move that’s too fast for even me to track, she grabs me around the neck with her arm in a semi shifted state. Judging by the furriness of it, I guess something like a grizzly bear as she pushes me up against the wall and constricts my air supply. It’s an impressive show of awareness, strength and control, and it almost makes me grin. If things were different between us, I would call this foreplay.

Her eyes blaze like wildfire, yep; she’s still livid. “You must have a death wish because I remember telling you I don’t want to see you again.”

Even in her anger, she’s still beautiful, in her blue floral summer dress with her curls piled high on her head. I wonder if she’s forgotten how much it turns me on when she takes control like this. It’s good to see she still hatesme, though; it’s going to make this easier. I don’t care what happens to me. As long as she lives, I can deal with the consequences.

So I smirk, playing my role, “Well, that would never be possible. Our families socialize and work together.” She squeezes my neck tighter, cutting off my air, and for a moment, I wonder if she’s going to go through with it. I wonder if I care.

Her voice lowers threateningly, and it really shouldn’t be so hot. “Do you want to test your healing ability, Sebastian? Let's see if you can regrow a limb. The only thing stopping me is I will upset Beau if I get blood on the carpet. Talk now, before I decide to take my chances.”

“Can I talk freely?”

“Yes,” she replies, still looking pissed off, yet a hint of curiosity peeks through her closed off expression. I know her too well. “I asked Dom to put a spell on my room. No one can hear us, and they think I’m just being quiet.” So, for the first time in our history, I tell her the truth about my mother.

“I will never expect things to go back to the way they were. I know I’ve done too much damage, and even then, our families would never allow it. But I did what I did because my Mom threatens your life every few years to keep me in line. It’s why I ended it back then and why I’m here now. So will you just agree to see me once a week, so it looks like I’m in your good graces again? I don’t expect us to talk or anything. It’s a temporary solution while I figure out something longer term. You trusted me once. Can you do that again?”

I don’t know what Jude was expecting me to say, but I think I’ve surprised her. She blinks a few times before gathering herself, letting go of myneck and walking over to her bed. She says nothing. Getting her phone out, she presses a few buttons and then looks up at me.