Before a smirk pulls at her lips. “You’re going to kill me? He will hate you! You know what it feels like to lose a brother. Are you going to make him live with that same pain?”
Her words make my hands tremble.
As I stare Iris in the eyes, I watch as her smile grows.
“Lilliana.” A tear rolls down my cheek at the gritty, smooth voice that sounds like a broken prayer.
Then I feel it, the electricity that makes all the fine hairs on my body stand on end. The scent that circles me that can only belong to one person. My arm drops at the sight of him, standing there, his breathing heavy, making his chest rise and fall, his fists clenched tight. Hell, in his dark eyes. Pure, raw male.
“Lilliana.” My name falls from his lips as his eyes dance between me and Iris.
My eyes return to her, and I no longer see her, the woman who was hurting and lost, the, wounded animal that instead of accepting help fought against it. All the pain, the hurt… it’s so blinding I see nothing else, feel nothing else.
“I’m sorry.” It falls from my lips, and I’m not sure who it’s meant for. Iris, for everything she went through, that she couldn’t find peace and instead turned into the monster she once feared and worse? Malachi, because I know as my finger slides back, he will never look at me the same.
My arm jerks as I watch the bullet rush through the air, landing in her chest, her heart.
Blood flows, staining her white blouse. She looks at Malachi as blood starts to pour from her lips. He catches her.
Lying on the floor, she whispers as she clings to him, before her grip loosens, hands falling limp at her sides.
Malachi closes her eyes before standing. I look around for the first time, noticing different men holding the guards against the wall. The girls are huddled together in the corner of the room, silent tears running down their faces. Fear and hope swirls in their eyes as they watch me, unblinking.
Malachi takes a step toward me, and I raise the gun.
“Stay away. I am getting us out of here and no one is going to stop me.” I watch his brow rise as he turns to Marcus, who’s watching me. They see the change in me. How could I not be changed after the last few months, go to hell and not be burnt by its flames? I don’t know when it happened or if it was a domino effect, but I felt it, the way it twisted me up, bent me until I had no other option but to break, to surrender to the new feeling building inside of me, accepting it. I had just shot a woman, killed her in plain sight, and felt no remorse, nothing. And that scares me more than anything.
“Tara, come beside me.” I reach out my hand, and her cold, shaking fingers find mine. Marcus takes a step forward, causing Tara to squeak beside me.
“You’ve been through shit, girl. I get you don’t know who the hell to trust. You feel nothing but pain, inside and out.” A lone tear runs down my cheek. “It’s horrible here, the things they have done.”
Marcus’ eyes flick with sadness, when suddenly I am in the air and pressed against a large body as someone else grabs the gun. “Let me go!”
I feel hot breath against my forehead. “There is no way I am ever letting you go again.”
Malachi’s voice envelops me. His hand comes around me, stroking my hair until I’m surrounded by him.
I’m in the arms of the man I love, hate, and everything in between. I struggle against him, to push him away and hold me closer.
We start moving, and when the fresh air hits my skin, the bright light making me wince, causing a pounding in my head, my whole body feels like it is floating. I feel something soft against me as my teeth start to shake; it seems to set off the rest of my body.
I hear murmurs as an engine starts, and everything from the last few weeks washes over me. Every time I gasp for breath, the next waves hits, taking me under. I no longer know which way is up as I fight, but my body is too weak. I close my eyes, letting it all claim me, knowing I will never be that little girl who fell in love with love, with magic and fairy tales of princes and princesses, dragons and white horses. Gone is the girl who loved without care, without fear, who held on to hope in a hopeless world. They hadn’t taken my body but something far worse.
My soul.
The nameless face walks toward me with a saw, laughing as I try to run. The corridor is long, endless, and every door I try is locked. No matter how hard I run, he gains on me. His shadowy figure leans over me, dressed in a white, long coat covered in red paint splats—no, blood. It’s dripping from the saw. I look down at my stomach, and blood seeps through my hands.
“No, No.”
“Beauty, beauty! Wake up.” I come to with a start, my body covered in sweat and hair stuck to my forehead. My breathing comes out in bursts as I crawl backwards on the bed, jumping when I feel the cool headboard at my back. I blink fast as Malachi’s face comes into view.
“It was a nightmare.” My lip quivers as I say it. I grip it between my teeth to stop the shaking.
He watches me like a wild animal, an intense look in his eyes, like he can’t believe I am here.
No longer guarded, he’s showing me it all. It’s too much, not enough; suffocating, freeing. Our jagged pieces somehow now match, born from the same darkness. It no longer drowns me because I am a part of it, or it is part of me. There is no longer a space between us, any grey area to navigate.
He reaches out, making me flinch back. His eyes betray his strong, powerful body with a flicker of hurt.
I get out of bed, hissing at the bruises that still cover my body. The ache inside of me, the emptiness that builds a new feeling: rage, rawness that I don’t know how to handle.
“Lilliana!” I stop at his commanding voice.
“Don’t,” I spit, the same answer I’ve given him for the past two weeks. There are days I can’t look at him. Every time I do, I see their faces: his father’s, Iris’s, Declan’s. All of them morphing into one, settling on his face, and I see their reflection in his black eyes, in this house. The prison that surrounds me, guards that watch over me. Seeing them in every shadow, voices whispering in my head. Even with them all dead, I feel like I’m still there, back in that room. It’s as though I haven’t escaped, expecting the house, Malachi, all of it to fade away, to find myself still sat on that rusty bed.
Turning to look over my shoulder, I see his jaw clench, restricting the words he wants to say. That hurts, and I know it shouldn’t. The rational side of me knows he’s giving me time to work through it all, to sort through the mess in my head. The other side hates him for it. I want him to tell me he sees the demons inside and welcomes them. I want him to take me brutally, take all that grime that no matter how many hot showers I took I still can’t get rid of. To fuck the sick images out of my head until he consumes me again, owns me entirely.
I’m messed up, sick in the head to crave it, him. To want his pain.
I enter the dining room, knowing he is following. I want to turn around and tell him to leave, tell him to pull me into his arms and never let me go, but instead I keep my mouth shut.
Tara looks up as I enter. She doesn’t want to go home yet. She isn’t ready for ‘normal’. I understand. Even though she’s looking better, her eyes still hold that haunted look I know lives in mine too. Her lips lift into a gentle smile as I take my seat, before filling with concern.