Page 46

The door smacks the wall after I push it open, and some random flies at me immediately, but the knife I throw lands in his belly, and he drops. Irrelevant.

My attention shifts to the man of the hour and stays there. He’s standing behind his desk, gun in hand, aimed directly at me. I can tell it would be a head shot from the angle of his hold.

“Harlyn.”

“Marcus.”

I feign boredom, when in reality I wish I could throw myself into a cremator for allowing him to look at me again.

I spent months working on my mental health. Taking medication for PTSD and anxiety. Working through coping mechanisms that would help me in situations such as this one, where all my body wishes to do is lock up and disappear. That cannot happen this time. I won’t let it.

I am in control. I am strong, I am brave, I hold the power.

With that in mind, I step forward and his wrist tips up as if to remind me he’s the one holding the gun.

“Stay over there, and we can talk about this civilly.”

He says, the fucking idiot.

The thing about Marcus is he’s a nasty individual surrounded by beautiful flesh that he doesn’t even try to use as a mask. He just lets everyone look into the ugly until they’d rather pull their eyes from their sockets using bare hands.

“Put the gun down Marcus.”

He sighs, closing his eyes. The sounds sweet like honey, the action that of a mad man who still believes me to belong to him. His head tips back like my voice is a drug that only he gets high on. It’s disgusting and it’s fucking scary.

The only man to ever put fear in me-save for the monster outside this door-holds a gun to my head. Since I’m in control, I step forward and I keep walking until I’m standing directly in front of the gun, and it rests against my forehead. If he kills me I’ll see Cami. If he doesn’t then I avenge her. Win-win, as they say.

“You’ve made a mess, my love.”

Marcus says and tears of frustration itch at my eyes. “Stop this nonsense-“, his hand reaches forward to brush a loose hair behind my ear, causing a visible shiver to roll through me. Purely out of disgust and unconquered fear. Nonetheless his eyes heat when he sees it. I’d say he thinks I like it, but I know he knows I don’t, and that fact alone likely has his dick up. “-and we can finally be together.”

A tear falls and I hate myself for it. Rage vibrates my body and I snap. And no one ever wants to be around when I finally snap.

A sinister smile pulls at my lips, and I knock the gun away before he can see it coming. Pulling my head back and then forward, it slams into his as hard as I can, and he stumbles.

The pain doesn’t register as adrenaline courses through my veins, providing me with a much-needed boost.

I recall all of my training with Blithe from over the years, and the new things I learned from Rex these past few months and lunge at Marcus. I don’t reach for a knife, not yet.

I want him to feel it. I want someone else to fucking feel it. The weight I carry. How much I hurt.

Recent memories and ones from long ago haunt the edge of my vision as my fists come down on him over and over again. I’m not even blocking the punches he throws from his side. I’m sure they will hurt later, but in this moment the only pain I feel is internal. The shit that not even therapy can touch. Years and years of trauma and fucking abuse splatters onto his pristine carpet, now painted in our blood.

His movements slow and a fresh wave of fury ignites. “No! No! You don’t get to die yet motherfucker!”

Punch. “Fuck you!”

Punch. “Fuck you!” Punch. That last one ended in a sob and I rise over him, getting to my feet. He looks groggy as he blinks up at me.

“I’m sorry. I-I love you. I wanted you f-for myself.”

He chokes out and I lose it.

My booted foot connects with his abdomen when I stomp down on him with all of my weight and let out a pained scream.

Tears trail down my cheeks a constant stream, while I bring my foot down over and over again. On his stomach, his legs, face, neck. His body crumples in on itself as he cowers and it only serves to piss me off more.

Bending down I grasp a handful of his hair and yank him forward onto his knees. I bend over until we’re at eye level to take him in. He’s a mess. A monster covered in a beautiful mess.

“You took Cami away because y-you thought it would make me all yours?”

I cry more. I knew she died because of me.

No, she didn’t. She died because of a mad man. Remember?

“Shut up,”

I yell slapping the side of my head with my free hand. “Just shut the fuck up!”

Marcus laughs at me and my jaw clenches, the hold I have on his hair tightening. “We are so alike you and me. Meant for each other, just stop this and you’ll see.”

A guttural scream makes my throat raw from exertion as I bring his head down on my knee, the hit followed by a sickening crack. Only I gain no satisfaction. It isn’t working. I don’t feel better, I feel so much worse. Dragging the past to the present and preventing myself from ever moving forward. I simply can’t survive it any longer.

Mind made up, I straighten to my full height tilting his head back as I go.

“Listen! Just fucking listen for once in your goddamn life.”

I say and Marcus meets my eye. “We,-“ I motion between us, “-are nothing alike. I am meant for no one, and I belong to MYSELF. I am Harlyn and you… You are nothing.”

My free hand pulls Lola out from my waistband, and I drag it across his throat. “mY lOvE.”

Blood sprays my entire front half and I watch unfeeling as he thrashes and falls to the floor.

On auto pilot I kneel and bring Lola to his beat up forehead and carve my old friend for the last time. When I’m finished I stab her into the floor next to his mangled face and rise.

Backing away I leave the blade I once took from the first monsters I slayed. Constantly using her and searching for the power I lost is only admitting that I don’t have any and I now know that for the lie that it is.

Turning, I head for the door. Among it, everyone watches. Most in tears I think, but it’s a bit of a blur. The adrenalines quickly fading and the pain in my chest comes back with a vengeance. Dizziness intrudes from all sides, and I stumble out, digging my fingers into my chest.

“Rex!”

I try to yell, but I’m panting.

“I’m here, I’m here what is it?”

His hands are on me, and others followed, only I can’t see who because the room is going black.

“I-I can’t b-breathe.”

“Shit.”

He curses. “I’ve got you.”

It’s the last thing I hear before I crash.