by Liza James
"No, wait," I stammer out as my brother begins dragging me toward the door of the room. I swear the room sways in my own fear of what's coming, my vision going hazy while my heart pounds out of my fucking skin. "There has to be another way."
Nothing. They don't even bother responding this time and instead, I'm kicking my brother and trying break free of his fucking hold. He launches toward me though, and before I know it, I'm being shoved to the ground while his grimy hand braces over my jaw. "Shut the fuck up and stay quiet, or I'll make it worse for her while we have her." A sick and disgusting smile spreads wide across his face. It makes my stomach twist with nausea, and I worry for a split second I may throw up.
Instantly, I have a single idea. One that may work, but will ruin me in the process.
I'll take that over losing her like this though.
"Wait, wait," I frantically cry out as my brother yanks me up and to my feet again. "Let me. I'll do it."
"You'll kill your best friend?" My dad laughs, and I have an easy urge to slaughter him instead.
"No, I won't fucking kill her. But—" I pause, unsure of how to say this in a way that will convince them it's enough. "I'll hurt her. Enough to keep her away from here, from us, forever. She won't say a word, I can guarantee it."
My brother glances to my dad, the tiniest flicker of disappointment pulling at his features. I want to spit on him again and watch him bleed for even thinking of this.
Dad looks toward me, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans his hip against the desk. He purses his lips, irritation evident in his tense frame and the craving for his fix clear in the trembling shoulders. "On your fucking life, Lyp. I swear if she comes around again, you'll be the one finishing her off yourself."
"I promise, I'll make it so she won't ever come back."
"Tonight. Do it tonight. Do you understand me?" he demands, and I'm already nodding my head in agreement over something wildly horrible.
"Yes," I reply, and my brother releases his hold on me, but shoves me out of the room with a string of curse words and insults.
I stumble forward, my hand hitting the wall ahead of me before I shift to my own room and fall inside.
Everything hits me at once, now that I'm alone and can actually process what I agreed to. My back hits the door as I shut it behind me, and my legs fall weak as I collapse to the ground.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I mumble over and over again. Tears spring to my eyes while I run my hands through my hair and pull aimlessly. "No, no, I can't fucking do this."
My legs shake, my hands tremble. My heart is racing faster than ever before and I'm crying against my already soaked jeans. I can't even think of what I could do or say to keep her away.
She's already a part of my fucking soul. And how the hell do you destroy a connection like that?
My phone suddenly pings in my pocket, and I reach behind to pull it out and see who's texted me.
Lyp: You coming over soon? I want to sit in the rain.
My eyes read over the text far too many times. Her name. The words. The rain.
More tears fall, and I twist the phone away so I don't have to fucking look at it. Everything inside of me is falling apart, and I wish more than anything there was another way to handle this.
I type out a quick reply, desperate to get this fucking phone away from me.
I'll be there soon. Four words. Sent.
I throw my phone across the room, hearing it crash against the far wall in front of me. I don't even care if it's broken—I won't have the one person I care for most once this is finished anyway.
My hands fidget carelessly in front of me, my head steadily thumping back against the door while my eyes fall shut. Streams of tears continue silently falling down my cheeks, the salt coating my lips and slipping over my tongue as ragged breaths escape me.
Rushing through my front door, I scramble to the stained and filthy bathroom in this godforsaken house. My legs collapse below me, my knees smashing into the linoleum as I fall. My hands grasp the edge of the toilet as I lean forward and vomit. The pain scrapes up my throat as I purge everything inside of me. Even my skin feels heavy with the weight of what I just fucking did.
My mind replays every moment, every cry, every beg and plead to stop. God, the fucking confusion and betrayal on her face when I did it. When she realized things were so fucking different than we’ve been–what we were becoming.
She thinks she means nothing to me. She thinks I’ve lied. And yet even now, while I’m puking and crying in the wake of what I’ve done–I can’t fathom a place where she could believe she means nothing.
But it’s here…it’s real. I’ve convoluted the safe and sacred space between us with complete destruction and mockery.
I hate my life. I hate this. I loathe everything I've done in order to keep her safe.
She won't know that though–she can never know that.
Everything feels heavy, but the soft glow of light shines behind my closed eyes. God, I'm not ready to wake up. I want to stay here, in this moment, where I can pretend everything is exactly as it was supposed to be.
But it's not real. I fucking hate that it's not real.
I slowly turn on my side, my hand absently reaching out toward where Lyp is asleep on my bed.
Fuck, she's in my bed.
The tiniest spark of something I don't recognize hits my chest. But it isn't sadness, it isn't anger, it isn't regret. That's for damn sure.
My hand slips over cold sheets, shifting higher while I keep my eyes closed and seek her out. I just want to feel her, know that she's here in this moment before everything shifts back to the regrettable normal we reside in.
Nothing.
My hand slides against more cold sheets and empty spaces and that's when it finally registers in my sleep ridden mind that she isn't here. I slowly blink open my eyes, squinting at the rays of sun peeking through my windows.
My vision is blurry, but I lift my head and quickly adjust when I actually visually see that she is no longer next to me.
She isn't here.
"What the—" I mutter, my voice thick and groggy with sleep. Sitting up, I throw the blankets off my legs and try to find my balance as I pull a big hoodie over my head and move toward the door.
I don't want to admit it yet, but something inside of me pulls tight with anxiety and fear. I'm never fucking afraid—not since I was 16. But I feel it now, and it's snaking through my blood and poisoning my mind.
Fuck no, she wouldn't have left. Not after last night.
I yank open my door and stumble out into the hallway, throwing open Aura and Ruby's door as I pass and glance inside—they aren't in there either. And the next bathroom door flies open as Ruby peeks out with raised eyebrows.
"What's going on?" She asks, confusion clear in her own voice.
"Where the fuck is Lyp?" I snap, my fist slamming against my own wall before I round the corner into my living room.
Aura sits quietly in the center of my couch, a mug of coffee in her hands and one of my throw blankets resting over her legs. Her face is drawn, a settling of disappointment heavy in her tense shoulders.
When her eyes meet mine, I know.
"Godfuckingdamnit!" I shout, twisting around and shoving my hands into my hair as I begin pacing the small space. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. She went back?" I bite out angrily. My skin is literally itching in resentment, my blood boiling within my flesh while every muscle tenses in rapid cycles of irritation.
I'm spiraling in every possible mental scenario. What Dom could be doing to her now that she went back, how the fuck I'm going to be able to get her back. And if I do, how I'm going to tie her the hell up and never let her fucking leave again.
The fucking audacity she has, honestly.
"She felt like she had too," Aura replies, her own frustration lining her tone as well. Ruby suddenly rushes into the living room, turning toward her girlfriend for some kind of understanding. "I don't know what to tell you guys.
She thought she didn't have a choice. She wanted to keep K safe."
Fuck, this is too much. Without even realizing what I'm doing, I stalk toward the small cabinet I have in the corner of my living room. It houses more of my books, but there’s a box I keep tucked in the very back of it.
Yanking the door open, I rip out the little pink box and open it, finding the exact object that can house all of my fucking anger in one moment.
A dragonfly. A tiny glass figurine. Lyp probably doesn’t even think about this anymore. But she gifted it to me when I turned 14. It glows in the moonlight and sparkles in the sun. I’ve held onto it all these years, but haven’t pulled it out since I moved into this apartment.
In a single, rage-filled impulsive action, I throw it. Hard, fast, and feel it slip from my fingers in mixed bursts of regret and relief.
It hits the far wall near my kitchen, shattering into pieces and crashing to the floor. My breaths are heaving inside of me, my lungs burning with oxygen before spilling out uncontrollably. I can’t contain my own fucking anger, and my vision is beginning to tunnel.
Suddenly, as Aura's words slowly process, I halt my movements and turn toward her. My frame freezes in mid motion with my hands resting roughly on my hips. "She said it would keep me safe," I repeat the words because I can hardly believe she used that as a fucking excuse.
"Yeah, in no uncertain terms. I told her we could figure out a way without her giving herself to The Nation. But this made the most sense to her and came without the potential loss of you." Aura continues explaining, but my mind is already sinking into an even deeper anger.
My eyes fall to the broken shards of glass now covering my floor. But I push back any feelings of regret in throwing it–I can’t focus on that now. And I'm getting really sick and fucking tired of us attempting to save each other without any sort of conversation about it.
I know what I did all those years ago, I know I couldn't have had any sort of communication about it. But this? I could fucking kill her for going back in order to save me.
"Fuck," Ruby finally responds. "We'll fix this. You know they're staying at her apartment, right? Let's go there first. I have a friend, he can meet us there just in case."
"Shit, I don't know where she fucking lives now." I haven't seen Lyp's place since she moved out of her parents’ house.
"I know where she is," Aura speaks up this time, and the calm in her voice is almost eerie. "She lives in the same complex I was in before we moved."
"What? She is? How did I not know this while we were there?" Ruby asks, her eyes narrowing and her brows pinching in confusion.
"When I found out she was moving there, we were already swamped by so many other things happening. We had just met Stella's family—my mind was in other places and I didn't think to tell you.”
"Who the fuck is Stella," I ask, my eyes darting back and forth to Ruby and Aura. Something silent is going on between them, and part of me wants to know what's happening there.
"Just a friend," Ruby finally replies, clearly forcing a casual tone that I see right through. But I don't care enough to push now. All I want to concentrate on is getting Lyp back. "All right, so we know where Lyp is. Let's get our things and go find her, I'll make a call to Wolf."
Wolf. I don't know who he is but judging by his name alone, I wouldn't mind having him on our side.
"She's dead," I reply flatly, finally dropping my hands to my thighs. "We're getting her back and then she's fucking dead. I'll kill her." I turn on my heels and stalk out of the room, cracking my neck back and forth on my shoulders as I mutter under my breath. "Exactly what I should have done when we were 16."
I'm rifling through my drawers for something very specific.
My black jeans are tight against my legs, my bright green tank concealed by my dark leather jacket. My body is moving in anticipated and calculated actions. It's like I'm in a permanent state of fight, the adrenaline I usually feel before my matches now pumping through my veins while we get ready to go find Lyp.
Fucking bitch.
The anger burning ravenously under my skin is another motivator for me. I can't wait to rip into her for ever leaving in the first place.
My fingers graze over the cold metal tucked in the very back of my top drawer, and I grip it tightly while pulling it free of the clothes that hide it.
9mm. Slate gray. The serial number filed off on the side.
I lift my tank and slip it into the holder tucked firmly against my ribcage, concealing it quickly before walking out of my room to find Ruby and Aura already waiting for me.
"Ready?" I ask them, not necessarily waiting for an answer as I glance to the floor and my eyes collide with the glass mess I still haven’t cleaned up. "I'll follow you guys on my bike."
"You can ride with us, you know?" Ruby offers, but I want to be alone for a bit. I need the feeling of the bike under my legs, the air rushing over my skin and keeping my senses heightened.
"No thanks, I'll ride." Simple. Straightforward.
I pull open my front door, stepping out as the girls follow closely behind me. We hurry through the hallway, to the elevators and down to the parking garage. I don't want to waste any fucking time, and I know Dom won't be either.
The girls immediately head toward their vehicle while I move to my bike. I'm quick to pull my hair up on top of my head and climb on, kicking the stand back and bringing my baby to life.
She roars beneath me, and I gas it just a bit as I back up and slowly pull out behind Ruby and Aura. We hit the road, and I'm thankful as fuck for riding by myself. Here, my thoughts can take the reins. My mind can slink back to the places it needs to in order to process what's happening and what we're about to do.
Get Lyp back, that's first priority. What happens to Dom? I'll figure that out second, and whatever happens to Lyp will be between her and I when I get my hands on her.
We ride through the streets until we reach a tiny apartment complex about twenty-five minutes away. When we pull up, I quickly park my bike on the street in front of the old building while the girls park in front of me and climb out.
Suddenly, a second bike pulls up, one that's completely blacked out. A fucking beautiful Triumph Street Triple. I pause as he parks beside me and turns his bike off. I glance toward the girls, and find Ruby standing nearest him with her arms crossed tightly around her chest.
The guy riding the bike pulls off his helmet, his long dark hair tied into a knot at the base of his neck. His jaw is lined with a dark scruff, leather necklaces and pendants hang at his chest where his black tee falls in a shallow V.
Who the hell is this guy? He's hot. Outrageously fucking so. But I'm far more turned on by the bike he's riding than him. It’s been hard noticing anyone now that I’ve had Lyp again.
Strands of his hair have fallen in his eyes and I almost want to lean forward just so I can see the color of them.
"Ruby," he states simply, but the tiniest edge of irritation lines his tone. His dark and rough voice rumbling over my chest as he speaks.
"I'm sorry for calling you," she replies, and I can tell she's being genuine. I absently wonder what their relationship is, but she's always been good at getting to know the people who frequent the club or surround it. Maybe he's from there.
"You know I don't do house calls," he replies again, but climbs off his bike at the same time, swinging one leg over before leaving his helmet on the seat. Goddamn he's tall. Broad chest and incredibly wide shoulders. He's one of the largest men I've ever seen and his ripped up black jeans hang snugly around his hips and powerful thighs.
He's stalks toward her, his heavy brown boots thudding on the pavement with each step. Aura subtly moves behind Ruby, but doesn't look afraid of him either.
"I know, I know," she says as she lifts her fist and pounds his when he nears her. "But this is an emergency, and I wasn't sure what we were walking into. You know I wouldn't call you unless it was important."
He nods before speaking again, "After this,
I'm out."
There's something that rubs me the wrong way about him, and I think it's the fact that I don't know who he fucking is and he doesn't seem wildly interested in being here.
And yet, even in the midst of his indifference, there's something else catching my attention. I wish I could pinpoint exactly what it is, but it's in his energy. In the way he moves without a second thought, zero hesitation, the intensity of his gaze and the strength of his muscular body.
"Hey, if you don't want to be here—don't be," I call out, moving to step toward him. Even though I can see his appeal, I'd rather not have a loose end if shit hits the fan.
Slowly, his head turns back toward me, his harsh and vividly green eyes piercing my own. "I didn't say I didn't want to be here, did I?"
My eyebrows lift, "Well, you sure as hell didn't say—"
"Don't," Ruby suddenly interrupts, her own gaze widening slightly and warning me back. "Not this guy. Okay? He's...unpredictable."
Wolf walks ahead, ignoring our conversation and moving toward the building.
"He seems pretty fucking predictable to me," I mutter as we all follow behind him. "Brooding stare, muscular frame, all that leather. Classic fucking douche bag."
"Sure," Ruby replies, her tone suddenly light as he pulls open the door to the complex and we step inside. "A classic douche bag who's killed countless people by slitting their throats and hanging them upside down. He lets them bleed out—while they're still alive."
I pause, my face turning toward her as goosebumps break out over my shoulders.
"Or he tortures them for information, by shoving tiny little shards of glass under their fingernails, or wrapping barbed wire around their limbs and slowly shredding their skin from their bo—"
"Jesus Christ, what the hell? How do you know this guy?" We hurry through the dingy hallways, working back toward the staircase as Aura mentions the third floor.
"It's a long story," she replies, turning her attention back to Wolf as he quickly climbs the stairs and heads toward Lyp's apartment.