Page 44 of Jump or Fall

Mara

“ N ice to see you, doll.”

Mara stepped through the door and flipped up her visor, revealing her face as she strolled toward the desk. His cold, calculating eyes followed her every move.

No fear. Never show him fear.

She trailed a gloved finger along the dark wood, the surface polished to a deceptive shine.

Not a single speck of dust, no hint of the horrors that had unfolded within these walls.

Even the spot where Lukas’s battered body had lain—scrubbed, bleached, erased.

A facade of pristine beauty masking the evil beneath.

She dropped into his chair and propped her feet up on the desk.

“On your knees.”

His smirk was slow, condescending. “A bit difficult when I can’t move.”

With a tap of her remote, he hit the floor.

He chuckled. “Is this how you get off with that scarred boyfriend of yours?” He raised an eyebrow. “Or do you freeze up on him too?”

If Gordon heard the jab, he stayed silent.

Mara pulled a knife from her belt. The metal caught the dim light as she dragged the edge across the varnished wood, chipping away at its perfect surface .

“Don’t try to provoke me,” she said flatly. “It won’t end how you want.”

“You were always a quick learner.”

She stood and looked closely at the blade in her hand. “Not quick enough to act, though.”

Dawson could still move his neck, but he didn’t bother watching her pace around him.

Mara ran the sharpened edge along the stubble on his cheek. “Stupid choices will result in stripes.”

A flick of her wrist left a shallow cut beneath his eye. He exhaled sharply through his nose, blood welling up in tiny beads before sliding down his face.

“Exceptionally stupid choices will land you in the Outskirts.”

Below the first cut, she pressed harder, dragging the blade down to his chin. He clenched his teeth, but the grunt of pain betrayed him. Blood poured from the wound, pooling in the crevices of his armor.

His lip curled. “I’m going to rip that face right off your fucking head.”

She backhanded him, sending a red spray across the floor. “I thought you liked dangerous things.” She clutched his hair in a tight grip and trailed the tip of the blade around his eye. His gaze still held no fear. “‘A lovely young armorer with tiger eyes’. Who knew you were so weak?”

“Not as many tiger eyes now.”

She tapped the outer corner to switch her vision to thermal. His form turned to bright shades of orange and yellow. “Now, I get to watch your body turn cold.”

She released him, making his head fall forward.

Blood had dripped into his mouth, so he spat on the floor. “Come on, doll. I know you don’t hate me. You wouldn’t have gotten rid of Karena if you did.”

Mara leaned down and pressed the tip of the blade to his untouched cheek. This time, he flinched. “What did I do to your precious Archon’s daughter? ”

“Don’t play dumb, sweetheart.” He grinned. The mess of open wounds and red stain on his teeth was the antithesis of his entire image. “She told me she removed her implant because of you.”

That had been the final straw for him. Once he’d found out, he raked his claws across her face and left her on the edge of Eight.

Mara had heard the whispers when people thought she wasn’t close enough to hear, speculating on when she’d be next.

Since then, Dawson always checked to make sure her implant was in place.

“How’s that possible?” she asked innocently. “I was living under your watchful eye.” She took the edge of the knife and sliced diagonally across his nose, splitting the cartilage.

Almost how Lukas’s had looked.

His teeth ground together so hard, she thought they might shatter. “I don’t know how. You cunts are always finding ways to scheme.”

She dropped onto the couch beside him, the old leather groaning under her weight.

Without hesitation, she plunged the knife into it, carving deep, ragged holes into its hideous surface.

She hated how the sticky, reeking leather had clung to her skin—another material meticulously chosen to prevent any misdeeds from seeping through or leaving a mark.

If only she’d been made of something less porous. If only the armor she’d spent her life perfecting could’ve protected her from him .

“For someone watching everything, you’re surprisingly unobservant,” she mocked.

He chuckled dryly, satisfaction smeared across his bloodied face. “Once you make someone afraid even when they’re alone, you don’t have to watch as closely. The shadows in their mind will do the job for you.”

She jabbed his shoulder with the knife. “Apparently, you do.”

With a sigh, she went on. “Your prized cow cornered me in Two and said I ruined her life. I flinched when she grabbed my arm because of a new stripe. Of course, that just fueled her tirade—how I didn’t deserve to live at the house, how she’d hire someone to kill me, and blah, blah, blah.

So, I told her you had my implant removed.

” Mara snorted. “I had no idea you promised her a baby, I just wanted to piss her off. But I knew by the look on her face…” She shook her head.

“That broke her. It’s not my fault she was stupid enough to believe me. ”

“And here I thought you were the quiet, sweet one.”

“Being your toy was easier than being her enemy.”

The corner of his mouth twisted into a cruel smile. “Admit it. You liked it when she was out of the picture. You warmed up so much after that.”

“Keeping your captor happy isn’t the same as affection,” she said with a pointed look.

“Is that why you’d get so wet?” he taunted, biting his bottom lip. “No, I think you started to enjoy it. Even before she was gone. You wanted me all to yourself. Does the boyfriend know how you’d—”

Mara backhanded him so fast he barely saw it coming. His head snapped sideways, but he only laughed.

She knew he was trying to get a rise out of her, but the slivers of truth in his words were digging their way under her skin.

She hated him from the start, but there were days her resolve had faltered. Days he brought her a gift or spoke about her armor projects with true interest. Moments when he’d fooled her into thinking she mattered and so she wouldn’t hide so far in her mind when he had sex with her.

The crushing loneliness of having no one else—for idle conversation, for human touch. After enough time, maybe anyone could find the embrace of a monster comforting.

Then he took Liv and moved Mara to the apartment in Two, and reality came crashing back. She escaped back into the haven of her mind. The one place she could control.

That was when she finally understood Karena. Even with her flaws, she had been a victim of his venomous charm—lured into his trap and slowly rotting from the inside once he’d taken a bite.

“What did I say about trying to provoke me?” she warned .

Gordon remained silent on the comms, but her cheeks flushed at the thought of him hearing what Dawson had just said.

Would he doubt her now?

Don’t let Dawson shake you. He’s doing this on purpose.

Mara had enough talk. She stood and pressed the knife to his throat. His cold eyes met hers.

A soft beeping filled the room.

Ice shot through her veins.

Dawson’s suit was losing power.

No. No!

He wrenched away from the blade and slammed his shoulder into her hip, knocking her slightly off balance.

With the connection broken, he lunged, shoving her down and trying to pin her to the floor. Her augmented strength was the only way she had a fighting chance.

Why hadn’t she just killed him the second she walked in? He’d been right there—immobile and helpless.

He ripped her helmet off and hurled it aside. “I’m going to tear your fucking head off!”

“Gordon!” she screamed.

Dawson laughed and pressed a button on his gauntlet.

Behind them, the hidden door slammed shut. “Your little boyfriend isn’t going to save you, doll.”

Mara wedged a knee between them and thrust him off. She rolled away, scanning the room. The knife was gone and her gun was still on the desk.

She scrambled toward it, but Dawson tackled her back to the floor. Blood from the fresh gashes on his face dripped onto her.

Quickly, she caught his hands, struggling to keep them away from her unprotected head.

He snarled, claws elongating as he tried to loosen her grip. Without the gauntlets, her fingers would’ve been cut to shreds .

Taking one of the claws, she twisted it. He let out a ragged cry and pulled up and slammed her back down, attempting to shake her off.

She reached for another one, but he retracted them.

Her armor beeped in warning and a new wave of fear pierced through her.

The power was draining.

Mara was going to die.

She had been right the first time she entered this room ten years ago. She just hadn’t known when.

Pounding and shouting rattled the door as Gordon fought to get through.

Dawson grinned, blood smeared across his teeth. “All that work, just to die like a stupid whore.”

One of his hands tore free and he went for her belt clasp. His voice rose, cruel and mocking. “Since the boyfriend’s listening, maybe I’ll fuck you one last time.”

The pounding outside grew more frantic. Dawson made a move for her chestplate. If he got it off, that would be the end.

“That’s what I should’ve done with the first boyfriend.” He slammed an elbow into her shoulder. “I should’ve kept him alive so he could watch you break.”

Mara’s rage ignited, hot and blinding. She couldn’t let him win. She pulled his head down and sank her teeth into the flesh of his cheek.

He howled and thrashed, trying to break her hold, but she clamped down harder.

The taste of copper flooded her mouth. She could feel his skin breaking between her teeth, the wet warmth of his blood coating her tongue. She gagged as some slid down her throat and finally released him before taking hold of his hands again.

“You crazy fucking bitch!”

A tingling sensation moved through her head. Her vision flickered, then went black in her false eye .

Something was wrong with her implant.

Sharp pain pierced her skull and suddenly there was something new she could feel.

Agony shot through her head again and Dawson’s claws extended. His eyes widened as he looked down at his hands in confusion.

Her chip had synced to his implants.

Pain burned through her head like a live wire, but she focused, forcing the bizarre appendages to move.

Fear was plastered across Dawson’s face, something she had never seen before. But now, it was carved into every hard feature.

He yanked at her grip, desperate.

“Let go!” he roared.

She thrust his fingers up under his chin.

With a scream, she drove his claws straight into the tender flesh.

A wet gurgle escaped him. Blood burst from his throat, drenching them both in a crimson waterfall.

His body twitched as his struggles weakened. Then finally, he went still.

Mara shoved him off and rolled onto her side, retching onto the floor. The metallic tang and sour bile clung to her taste buds. Her half-blind vision flickered again—shadows forming into faint shapes. The connection was fading, but the phantom sensation of his claws still lingered.

The door cracked under Gordon’s relentless kicks.

Mara reached for Dawson’s gauntlet, forcing her trembling fingers to press the button.

The hidden door sputtered open but caught on a jagged edge. Gordon slammed his boot into it, forcing his way through.

His wide eyes swept over the carnage.

Then they landed on her.

She must look like something out of a nightmare—blood streaked across her face, her armor cracked .

He crouched in front of her, hands on her shoulders. “Is any of this yours? Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. “No.”

Gordon pulled her into his arms, his body shuddering against hers. “I shouldn’t have let you come in here by yourself.”

“I was stupid,” she whispered. “I should have just shot him.”

Her vision flickered again. The connection to the claws was almost gone, leaving behind only a dull ache.

“You’re safe,” he said softly. “That’s what matters.”

Gordon took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s show everyone he’s dead.”