Page 38 of Tear Me Down (Descent to Darkness Trilogy #2)

Chapter sixteen

Ashia

The Next Day

‘Let Me Be Sad’ – I Prevail

The smell of spinach-dip chicken pasta permeates the air, carrying throughout the house and settling in to create a soothing atmosphere that I desperately need.

My mind has been racing since last night, stumbling over the resurfaced feelings that were conjured up with seeing Turk, but I think I’m handling it better than I thought I would.

I slept well for the most part, and I didn’t feel a dark cloud of doom looming over me when I woke up.

Apart from the continued sickly feeling from my recovery, I'm not sure what I feel.

Numb? Empty? Detached? I'm not sure that's what I'd call it—my thoughts and feelings on the matter are being pulled in every direction, and I feel like I might still be processing the events of the last twenty-four hours. That’s now a second life I’ve taken, and this time it wasn’t necessary—it was something I wanted to do, and that might be where part of my problem lies.

I think Damien was waiting for me to break, expecting me to snap and either sob or go on a rampage, but I surprisingly feel calm, like a weight was lifted off of me and I can walk lighter.

That weight might be held over my head until the rope is cut and it crushes me, but for now I’m doing okay.

Did I get any answers? Not really. I knew his response before he said it out loud, but I needed to ask.

That was the first time I’ve actually expressed the disgust for my parents out loud to someone that actually knew them, and the relief that comes from confronting him settles in deep.

Damien should be home soon, and Zeke might actually stay for dinner.

Which, considering where we were a few weeks ago, is a huge step in the right direction.

At work today, he even talked to me throughout the day and was saying how much fun Taylor had last night.

She really loosened up, and it was nice to see Zeke so happy.

Recalling all of the fun before the emotional turmoil helps lighten my mood some, and I try my best to focus on that.

I apparently also convinced him to ask Carter about his biological family—said I peaked his interest and wanted to know more information, whether it’s useful or not.

I just hope that after what he told me about drugs being in his system at birth, that his biological parents aren’t as evil as mine were.

Serena and Zeke are sitting at the kitchen island, talking away and pretending like they’ve known each other their entire lives.

How can Serena be so comfortable with everyone she meets after only knowing them for five minutes?

I’m not sure, but I’m glad there are never any awkward stages with her.

She’s so outgoing and personable, and besides Damien, I’m not sure there’s anyone that doesn’t enjoy her company.

While I used to be envious of that, now it’s just something I admire about her.

Zeke is telling us about his first few months with DH, retelling every horrid story where he messed something up or doubted himself.

When he recalls his first kill, he goes into way more detail than I would’ve thought, and it makes me think not only of Turk, but of my first kill.

The moment I all but blacked out and mauled a dangerous man in the heat of the moment.

A part of me can still feel the shears in my hands, playing back every motion to a perfect ‘T’ and doing it again exactly the same way—but the other part of me feels distant from it, as if I’m watching it happen from afar, and the two scenes melt together in my mind.

At this point, I almost question if it happened at all.

“So, Ash. You’ve got to tell me how you lured that guy over last night. D said it was something to marvel over.” He chuckles like he’s impressed and pulls me out of my thoughts. His positivity towards the situation brings back the giddy feeling from before the plummet last night.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal. I just pretended I was drunk and poked my boobs out. That was enough to get his attention.” We all laugh, and Serena follows up with a ‘that’s my girl’ comment, which makes me feel even better.

“So, I take it that means you got to see the bar’s kill room in action?” Zeke asks, and my stomach drops a little.

“Yeah, you could definitely say that.”

“I would say. Shooting someone in the face is messy work. You’re lucky the room is soundproof and we have a good cleanup crew.

” He laughs in total amusement, but that’s not what I focus on.

Serena’s face falls and her brows furrow as she takes in what he’s leading towards, glancing at me with so much doubt in her eyes that it makes my heart ache.

God damn it, Zeke…

“What did you say?” Serena asks as she turns her gaze at Zeke, and then back to me. “You shot someone last night?” she asks in disbelief, shaking her head in small movements like it’s the most unimaginable thing for her to hear.

“Yeah, but…”

“What has gotten into you?” She interrupts me, and my stomach falls all the way to my feet, leaving me nauseous and empty all at the same time.

“What do you mean?”

“So, you’re just okay with killing people now?” Anger breeds on her face, covering it so completely that I almost can’t see the worry in her eyes.

“Ser, it’s not that big of a deal. That guy…”

Serena snaps her head back to Zeke when he speaks and slams her hands on the table .

“Shut the fuck up, Zeke. I’m not some member of your little boy band.” she practically bites at him before jerking back to me. “Well?”

I feel frozen in place, like I’m a kid again and don’t know how to handle someone being upset with me. My throat feels tight and my thoughts stutter, making me feel like I want to run and hide like I used to.

“It was Turk, Ser. The dealer…”

“I remember Turk, but what I don’t remember is you being so careless or indifferent to someone’s life.

” Her disappointed tone is unwavering, and the stern edge in her words makes me feel like a scorned child, but I suppose to a nurse who saves people’s lives every day, this can be unsettling.

“Murder is still murder, no matter who gets killed, Ashia, and you just up and decided to kill someone? A living, breathing person?”

“Ser…it’s not like that. I don’t know what…”

“Did he make you do it?” She interrupts me again, but the hatred in her tone sets something else off inside me, like a warning siren for a tornado.

“Who? Damien?”

“Yes, Damien. Your serial killer fiancé.” That triggers the fire in my chest and manifests an anger that I’ve never felt towards her before.

I understand that she isn’t necessarily a fan of his, but she’s sitting in our home, that he provided for us, and wants to start slinging insults like he hasn't also protected her?

“He’s not a serial killer,” I seethe.

“Well, when you look at the technicalities, he is.”

That’s when Zeke’s face hardens and he looks at her with a type of disgust, as if he’s also offended by her statement.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he says back to her, but I pitch in, not wanting this to turn into an all-out screaming match.

“Ser, you don’t understand…”

“No, I understand completely. The guy at the shop? I understood that. We were in literal danger, but what I don’t get is how my sweet, reclusive best friend suddenly got the urge to not only lure a man to his death, but was the one to kill him.

” She stands up, her anger obviously pouring over, and I instinctively take a step back.

“You couldn’t even watch anything but cheesy horror films three months ago, and now you’re okay with committing murder? ”

“Ser, it’s not like that. I realized it was him, and I got caught up in asking him about my parents, I just got so mad…

” My hands start to tremble, the feeling snaking its way up my limbs and creeping into the back of my neck as the anxiety grows.

A chaotic mix of anger and sadness swirls around and through my body, making the floor feel unsteady.

Though, I can tell she clearly feels the same way.

The desperation in her eyes is something I've never seen from her, and it's killing me. She wants me to tell her that it’s all a huge misunderstanding, and that I didn't look a man right in the eyes and end his life last night—but I can't lie to her like that, and now I have to stand back and watch one of the most important people in my life despise me.

“That’s your excuse? So, what’s next? If I piss you off enough, are you going to hurt me? If I remind you of all of your past bullshit, what would you do to me?”

My heart stops at her questions, and I actually feel like I might faint, with nothing left to hold me up but the cold chill running through my bones.

“Of course not, Ser! I would never hurt you!” I declare, almost pleading with her to understand and remember how much she means to me.

Every time we’ve held each other when we cried, all of the horrible shit we’ve been through together, every moment we’ve ever had collides in one swoop in my mind, and the last thing I want is for her to be just a memory.

“Even if that is true, how am I just supposed to be okay with you committing murder? Regardless of if it’s justified. What does that make me?”

“You’re still my best friend, Ser. I’m still me.

” I can’t help but pat my chest, trying to get her to understand why I felt so much relief, so much peace to be able to finally put that part of my life behind me on my own terms. I know that it was wrong, and I don’t know how to make her understand that for some reason, I don’t care that it was. I’m not even sure I know…

“Are you though?” A sharp silence fills the house, leaving nothing but the dinner sizzling behind me.

The air is suddenly thick, making it hard to breathe.

“I don’t… I don’t even recognize you anymore…

” Her lip quivers and she hugs herself, stepping away slowly like if I approach her, she’ll scream.

It’s like she’s ripped out my heart before stomping on it.

The world stops moving, and everything freezes around me, creating the perfect environment for my old seeds of abandonment to bloom when I thought they were all but dead.

It’s happening again—once again, I’m not enough.

Just as I was starting to feel that I could let go of the things that held me back and emerge from a shallow grave, more dirt is laid upon me.

“Please don’t say that…” I swallow right after my voice cracks, trying to compose myself, but as I watch the first tear run down her face, I break.

“It’s true, though. I mean, look at who you’re turning into.

One minute you can’t stand to be around someone who’s even remotely upset, and now you’re marrying a murderer?

You like to ask Tony about his job, but the moment a call comes through on his radio, you normally shut it out.

Any situation that could possibly be perceived as scary or violent, you’d cower, and now I’m just supposed to be okay with my best friend murdering someone who may not have deserved it? ”

“May not have deserved it? Ser, he…”

“Yeah, no. I get it,” she snaps at me, looking away from me and to the wall like I disgust her now, like anything we’ve had over the past twenty years is suddenly covered up by one action, one single moment that I seized as if I had no regard for the repercussions.

I suppose I didn’t at that moment, I didn’t think of the possibility of being caught, or how it would look to anyone that wasn’t there, but I didn’t have to.

That was my vengeance, my redemption, a way to finally escape the crowded thoughts of displeasing someone I loved, only for it to come back and bite me in the ass.

“Serena, please. Just… Just try to understand…” I choke back a sob, feeling my heart literally crumble and break.

“I need…I need to process this. Everything…I just…I need to go.” She swipes her purse from the counter and storms off to the garage, and each step feels like another stab to my chest. I run after her while tears sting my eyes and trail down my face.

She can’t possibly be leaving… We haven’t figured this out or talked it through—she hasn’t given me the chance to explain or say I’m sorry.

The desperation really sets in, and my stomach does that flip that makes me feel like I’m falling.

“Ser, please! Don’t go…” I try to plead, but she’s already in the car, starting it quickly like she can’t wait to leave.

The lights from the ceiling reflect off the tears on her face, and I’ve never felt so low, so wrong, like my world is imploding right in front of me and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

She’s leaving, actually leaving, without so much as a goodbye or even a ‘fuck you.’

This feels wrong, twisted, and unreal, like I never actually woke up this morning and this is my inner guilt manifesting into a nightmare.

I’d rather her scream, hit me, or throw things at me—anything to get her to stay.

How can she just walk away? After everything we’ve been through, how can she run away from me from easily?

Have I never shown her how much she means to me?

That I would never let anything happen to her?

Even from the attack at Cut Me Down, my main concern was her safety—does that not matter?

When the garage door is high enough, she backs out quickly and races to the bottom of the hill, leaving me behind for the first time in our lives.

As if the universe knew this was going to happen, the sky darkens and lets out a thunderous roar.

The rain quickly follows, slapping against the concrete of the driveway and drowning out the sound of her car completely.

In a complete moment of desperation, I sprint down the driveway—just far enough to see the gate below, and there’s nothing but the steam from the hot pavement and the rain pounding against it.

I feel empty—a shell of the person I once was, and while I was starting to think that might be a good thing, those thoughts fall along with the sky.

Just like that, at the snap of a finger, my best friend, one of the very few people I saw as my family, is gone—leaving me shattered and truly broken.