The girl looking back at me is someone I don’t recognize.
She’s bitter.
She’s cold.
She’s full of spite and vengeful rage.
My gaze travels down to where my shirt is still tucked up under my bra. Since I left the hospital, my incisions have been constantly covered by bandages, and I never had the courage to look beneath them. But now, they’re on full display.
My eyes lock onto the marks that ruined me.
The pinkish scars that show where the bullets ripped through my flesh and embedded themselves in my body, killing my baby before he even got a chance to live.
I feel as my blood starts to boil. Wrath seeps up my body, coiling around my lungs. It’s suffocating. My heart pounds against my ribcage as my breathing becomes labored. My fingernails dig into the palms of my hands and my vision starts to blur. A hazy fog clouds my mind in fiery violence, flipping a switch and sending me into a blind rage.
And the last thing I remember before it all goes dark is picking up my desk chair and throwing it full force into the mirror.
My bedroom door flies open, waking me from a restless slumber and throwing me back into the grim reality I’ve found myself in. Beni stands in the doorway with a wide-eyed look on his face, and before he can even begin to tell me what’s wrong, I hear the crash.
I’m on my feet in an instant, running toward Saxon’s room. The nurse stands outside the door with a frightened look on her face, and she flinches as the sound of something else breaking comes from the bedroom. Without hesitation, I push open the door and my jaw locks as I see the state that Saxon is in.
She stares back at me but there’s nothing in her eyes that resembles the woman she once was. Her shirt is raised, and the blood that covers her stomach tells me she ripped her stitches and reopened her wounds.
Her room is in shambles. The TV is hanging from where it was securely mounted to the wall. The mirror and the desk chair are in pieces, and her bed is flipped over. Even the drawers are pulled from the dresser and thrown across the room.
I take a step inside, watching her carefully for any sudden movements. Instead, she stays completely still, looking like a caged animal ready to attack when threatened. Out of all the possibilities I thought could happen, being afraid of her next move never even crossed my mind, and yet here we are.
“S,” I say calmly. “You’re hurt. We have to get you cleaned up.”
“Fuck you,” she sneers.
Crossing the room quicker than she was ready for, I grab her wrists and pin her up against the wall—my own anger seeping through. “Oh, Gabbana. I have fucked you. And you fucking loved it.”
She keeps her head held high as she glares back at me, and no matter how much she may hate me now, I can still feel it. The sexual tension that crackles between us, there’s no getting rid of it. And goddamn, I’ve gone too long without feeling her mouth on mine.
I don’t know if it’s because I can’t resist anymore, or because I’m desperate to calm her down, but I drop my head down and press my lips to hers. There, in the middle of destruction, I kiss her like she’s breathing the life back into me. Like we’re breathing the life back into each other. It’s an intoxicating dose of serotonin straight to my system, until the pain comes in.
She bites down on my lip hard enough for the metallic taste of blood to hit my tastebuds. I hiss as I release her and pull away, only to feel her drive her knee full force between my legs. My balls contract, tightening so hard it feels like someone is trying to squeeze them like their own personal stress ball. Bile rises in my throat as I empty all the air in my lungs and drop down to one knee.
“That wasn’t very nice,” I growl.
Saxon looks down at me, smirking triumphantly, but she hasn’t won yet. I pull the syringe from my pocket and remove the cap before driving it into the side of her thigh. Her breath hitches as I push the plunger down and inject the sedative into her bloodstream.
My own pain be damned, I get up and catch her before she falls, instantly going to sleep. Beni and the nurse watch me as I carry her out of the room and down the hall.
“Get me Dr. Ferro,” I order Beni. “She’s going to need new stitches.”
“On it, Boss,” he answers.
Taking her into my room, I lie her down on the bed and sit beside her. My fingers gently push the little strands of hair out of her face as I take in how peaceful she looks. As if pain isn’t the only thing she’s capable of feeling.
The girl I know is in there somewhere.
I just have to find her.
EVERYONE HAS THEIR ESCAPES. Some like reading books, while others would rather go for a run. Mine, however, are always violent. Whether it’s getting revenge on my enemies or throwing punches in the gym, the only things that can get through to me are those that inflict pain.
The drills Ralph has me running are the same as always, except this time it feels different. All my anger and frustration is being taken out on the focus mitts he’s holding. Each hit is harder than the last as I drive my fists into the padding, craving the release.
The time Saxon spent in the hospital, including during the first and second surgeries that literally saved her life twice, all I wanted was for her to wake up. For her to be okay. And she did, she woke up. But okay isn’t a word I’d use to describe her.
Immediately, she was different.
Cold.
Enraged.
Ready to burn the whole world to the ground.
But while I understand the grudge she holds, it never occurred to me that she would hate me, too. Every part of me is ready to fight. To stand by her side and refuse to let any harm come to her as we punish those who did this to her. But she seems determined to let the pain and the misery break her down to nothing. And that is the fear that haunts me at night.
Because I saw the same look on my mother before she took her own life.
MY FINGERS MOVE ACROSS the keyboard, searching everywhere I know to check for any signs of Viola or Nico. I may have nothing yet, but I can feel it. We’re getting closer. It’s only a matter of time before we close in on both of them, and I can fire two bullets straight into their skulls.
I have half a mind to drag Viola back here when I find her. To let Saxon drive one of her heels straight into her eyeball and listen as she screams in pure agony. But to do that would mean showing Saxon a life of blood and violence, and it’s a dangerous slope. Once you’ve felt the power of inflicting pain on someone else, of taking someone’s life, there’s no coming back from it. You end up feening for it like an addict looking for their next fix.
My office door opens and slams shut with a force that shakes the walls. I look up to find a very angry Saxon glaring back at me. I lean back in my seat, giving her all of my attention, but it’s as effective as that kiss was earlier. With the vindictive look in her eyes, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was plotting my murder.
“You fucking drugged me again,” she growls.
I keep my emotions calm. “You should have listened.”
“Oh!” she scoffs. “Because God forbid I don’t do what you want. Have you ever had a relationship where you don’t call all the shots?”
“Is that what this is? A relationship?” I question. “And to answer your question, no. I haven’t, and I’m sure as hell not starting now if it means standing by while you kill yourself!”