Page 130 of Scarred Angel

Fifty-One

MAKSIM

“Who gave the order?”

Mom’s backhand cracks across the man’s face before he can even inhale to answer. Blood sprays and dots the concrete at her feet. He spits defiantly, chin lifting like he’s daring her to try again.

She does.

The butt of her gun slams into his cheek, snapping his head sideways. His partner flinches so hard the chair rattles, eyes glued to the floor, and arms trembling against the restraints.

Amalia tracked these men down. They’re some small-time contacts of Balterra's. But all we’ve learned in the past hour is that Balterra was hired to locate and retrieve something “valuable.” They don’t know the name for it, but we do.

The Ledger.

The fucking epicenter of everything coming undone.

Neither of these clowns seems to know more than the scraps they were fed. And in our world, it’s easy to tell when someone is holding back. Easy to know if pain will crack them open or if they’re truly empty. Today, I can’t even bring myself to care enough to join in.

Any other day, I’d be front and center, knife in hand, smile in place, ready to peel back truth one scream at a time.

But right now, my mind is nowhere in this room.

It’s with Valentina. Always Valentina.

Last night, she told me she loves me with this terrified kind of bravery I don’t fucking deserve. And I didn’t say it back. Didn’t force the words out. Didn’t even try.

The disappointment in her eyes still burns behind my ribs like someone drove a blade between them and twisted.

If I say it...If I make it real, it becomes something I can lose, and something I could fuck up so catastrophically that she never looks at me the same again. Handing that power to someone else, letting her hold my heart in her hands, is terrifying.

And I’d do it anyway.

Because the truth is simple and unavoidable. I already love her. The words are just the last piece I haven’t found the courage to tear out of myself yet.

Suddenly, the room is suffocating, too small, and too loud. The need to see her and show her exactly what she means to me pulses white-hot, overriding all logic. I push off the wall, pull my firearm, and level it at the mouthy bastard who’s been smirking through every blow. Without a moment to think, I squeeze the trigger. His skull snaps back, body slumping, dead before he hits the ground.

“Maksim?” Mom’s voice cuts through the sharp ringing.

And my eyes swing to the remaining man. I aim at him next, letting him feel exactly how thin his thread of life is.

“You’re going to answer all of her questions. Understood?”

He nods furiously as streaks of pathetic tears slide down his face.

Mom catches my arm as I turn. “Where are you going?”

“To tear out my own heart.”

Her eyes narrow, not in disapproval, but in understanding, and a soft, knowing smile pulls at her lips

“Son,” Silas says as I pass. I nod once, no words needed, and keep walking.

The drive to Sloane’s is a blur, just headlights and asphalt beneath a mind that won’t stop spiraling. I don’t remember streetlights or traffic. Hell, I don’t even remember parking the car. One second I’m gripping the wheel hard enough to split the leather, and the next I’m inside the building, purpose propelling me forward.

I spot Valentina behind the counter, Remi beside her. She’s in the middle of a conversation, lips parted mid-sentence…and then she sees me and freezes. Her brows knit in slight confusion, and I see that little breath she always takes when she’s surprised.

Fuck, she’s beautiful.