Page 272 of Blackwood

I scream. I scream so hard my throat tears. Because I loved them. Because I should’ve saved them. Because I can still see Luca in my mind, his smug fucking grin while he carved them open just to leave me this picture.

“You clawed for some salvation,

but I promised damnation.

You don’t get to choose, my little whore.

You’re not theirs. You’re mine forevermore.”

I crawl forward, sobbing, slipping in blood—their blood—trying to get to them, but it’s already too late. Lex’s chest doesn’t rise. Cade’s hand is still.

And I’m still alive. I slam the door shut, screaming as the lights flicker red. The hallway stretches. Warps. Bleeds. Their voices echo now. Zeke, Daddy, Cade, and Lex all calling my name. Accusing. Dying.

I run. But the blood is everywhere. Flooding the apartment.Rising past my ankles. Drenching the walls. Filling my mouth. I’m choking on it, grasping at my throat.

“You’d think you’d learn, but you never see.

I’ll take every soul ‘til there’s no one but me.

So cry, Izzy. Bleed. Beg and crawl,

Because I’ll burn your little world just to watch you fall.”

“No! NO!” I grab my head, nails digging into my scalp as Luca’s voice laughs through my mind. I fall to my knees, sobbing, shaking, begging for someone, anyone, to make it stop.

I jolt awake.

Sweating. Gasping. Clawing at my throat like I can still taste blood. I throw the blankets off, stumble out of bed, and run.

Chapter 74

LEX

Our Apartment - Still not getting any fucking sleep.

63 Days Since Henry’s Death

“Baby?” I call after her, but she’s already gone, bolted straight into the bathroom like the devil himself is clawing at her heels. The door slams shut behind her.

Cade’s already halfway out of bed beside me, bare feet on the floor.

“You go,” he mutters, calm but tight. “Pull her back in. I’ll make her some tea.”

The second I step inside the bathroom heat punches me in the face. The shower is on full blast, steam fogging up the mirror, turning the air thick and wet. She’s on her knees under the spray, scrubbing her hands raw. Her arms. Her chest. Anywhere she can reach. Scrubbing like she’s trying to wash off blood that isn’t there.

It’s been two months since we buried her dad. Since the night she shattered in our arms. She has good days, some good nights. But this one’s not good, it’s the kind that rips her straight out of bed drowning in sweat and memories.

She hasn’t let us close since that night. Not really. Says she’s fine, but I see it in her eyes. The distance. The guilt. She won’t kiss us and sometimes she flinches if we touch her too long.

And I get it. I fucking get it. She doesn’t want to blame us, but she does. Thinks if she hadn’t loved us—hadn’t asked Cade to come watch her dance—maybe her dad would still be alive. Maybe Luca wouldn’t have slipped through the cracks.

She hasn’t said it out loud. Doesn’t have to. I see it every time she won’t meet my eyes. Every time she avoids Cade’s touch. Every time she locks herself in the bathroom like she can outrun the guilt.

And now, with the wholemaybe-my-brother-is-fucking-alivetwist? Yeah. That sure as hell isn’t helping.

Tex and Nate are convinced Zeke is alive. They say it’s the only thing that makes sense. That no one could pull off this level of surveillance and all this precision without Zeke’s help.

Zeke was the mastermind behind the Black Book network and Project Dylan. The king of shadows. The ghost in every system. If Luca’s operating like this, it’s because Zeke gave him the fucking keys.