Page 96 of Scarred in Silence

“I knew your pain would aim that gun at me, then maybe at yourself. A blank stops the impulse before it’s permanent.”

Her lips tremble. “You think I won’t finish the job?”

I kneel, keeping stare level. “Load it and find out.”

The air between us thrums. She kneels too, grabs the pistol, and racks the slide open. Sees the crimped brass. Eyes lift—black comets.

“You control every variable.”

“Not every.” I reach into my waistband, pull a fresh magazine—live rounds. I hand it to her. “Choice is a variable. I can’t stomach it anymore. Take it.”

She accepts the clip, a weighty promise. A slow, deliberate click.

She chambers truth. Then she cocks her head. “If I shoot you, who hunts Miles?”

A spark—the angle I prayed for.

“I do. We do—together. I’ll put his jaw on your nightstand.”

“You expect trust?”

“No. Only acceptance that my violence serves you.”

She studies my face—minute fractures, healed scars, blood drying on my lip. Something shifts behind her eyes—rage cooling into calculation.

“First,” she says, voice low, “I need confession. All of it. No omissions, no riddles.”

I nod once. Confession is easier than breathing.

I tell her…

How I hacked campus security cameras sophomore year.

How I paid a New Mexico sheriff to bury a statement after someone reported her selling herself for sex.

How I gave her fake bullets.

How I branded her because I needed her to only want me.

How I need her.

How every mile she traveled, I bought the room next door. I had someone following her.

How the kidnapping should have been a three-day scared straight mission—until Victor sold intel and Miles went rogue.

How her father handed her over to me.

Itell her everything that I ever did to change the course of her life. I think all of those things were for the better.

Astra listens without blinking. By the time the words dry up, the lamp throws prison-bar shadows across her face.

“And Damien?” she says at last. “You shot him. Left him. Thought he died.”

“I know.” The admission punches me in the gut.

“I aimed for his heart. I watched it stop. Somehow, he kept breathing in the dark.” My jaw grinds.

“I’ll finish him too.”