I veered to the left toward a garden and darted to the wall. It was far enough from the guard gate that if I climbed it, he wouldn’t see me. Well, at least if there weren’t roaming cameras. Since no one had come rushing out, I was fairly confident I was still in the clear.
Sizing up the wall, I quickly scaled it, scraping the back of my thigh on the way down, and walked away from the house. Numbness crept in as the truth of mysituation hit. If Marcel were right and the package hadn’t come from Alek, then it could only be one of two people.
The Mask or a super fan. Either way, I’d been found. The only new place I had been was Portland. At the gala event. High-power officials had been in attendance.
I vaguely remembered a conversation Doc and Owen had about the possibility of who could have been behind the abduction of us girls. The amount of effort put into our training and the time they invested to keep us untouched meant it wasn’t a typical sex trafficking ring.
It was a frightening thought that someone recognized me. The Uber driver honked, startling me. I rushed over to the car, climbed in, and gave him my address.
I stared out the window; the sky gave way from the inky darkness of night to the soft hues of dawn. As it lightened, delicate shades of pink and orange mixed with gray clouds, creating a masterpiece. If I were hiking, I would have documented it. It was so beautiful, but it didn’t seem fitting today.
My emotions ran rampant, and each passing streetlight that brought me closer to my house increased the dread and uncertainty of what I would find. A tightness spread throughout my chest.
The Uber driver remained silent. I pulled down on the T-shirt, feeling naked, and the precariousness of my position wasn’t lost on me. Once more, I had acted impulsively. In my desire to flee, I hadn’t thought it through all the way.
Here I was sitting in the back of a stranger’s car, wearing Nik’s T-shirt. I had no blade on me. No way to really protect myself. What a disappointment. My heart pounded, and I tried to steady my breathing. I should have planned better, thought the consequences through all the way. Now whatever happened was on me.
I stole a glance at the driver; he seemed kind enough, but that meant nothing in this world. Unable to relax, I looked for familiar landmarks and roads and was relieved to see some. The closer we got, the anxiety returned. When the car slowed, taking the final corner, I took a deep breath.
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to prepare mentally for what I was going to see. The morning light was stronger. No turning back now.
“Almost there,” the driver said, breaking the silence.
I nodded, unable to find my voice. Something about seeing the charred remains of my life filled me with a coldness, but I had to know the extent of the destruction.After all, I caused it. The driver pulled closer and then slowed to a crawl. His eyes widened at the sight before him.
He glanced back through the rearview mirror. I wanted to laugh at his expression. He probably thought he was taking some drunk girl who had done the walk of shame in the early morning hours home. I mean, who else travels in next to nothing?
“Miss, are you sure this is the address?” he asked, unable to hide the worry in his voice. “It doesn’t look safe.”
We were one house down, and I followed his gaze, my heart sinking as I took in the charred remains of my home.
“Stop the car,” I exclaimed.
He slammed on the brakes, and I jumped out, my heart in my chest. The sight before me was unfathomable. All that remained was a shell, and almost everything was covered in black. The acrid scent of charred wood and smoke still hung in the air, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. This was what devastation must taste like.
I stood, unable to move, then the driver called out, “Can I call someone for you?”
Ignoring him, I scrambled up the steps. Each creak and groan beneath my weight echoed the heaviness in my heart. The door had been torn open; I walked inside as searing pain ripped through me. My eyes stung with unshed tears, threatening to overflow at any moment. I moved through the charred remains, searching for anything familiar.
Nothing was left where my room had once been—it was a void deeper than the pit of hell. No way my bears survived this mess. I stumbled, overwhelmed by the emotions, to where the living room once was.
As I sank to the floor, the ash-covered surface greeted me. Among the wreckage of what was once my home, the walls of grief closed in, suffocating the air from my lungs.
Exhaustion hit once more, and I couldn’t move. My eyes grew heavy. I curled up in a ball, wanting nothing more than to have burned in the fire. It would’ve been a kinder way to go. I closed my eyes and drifted off. Sometime later, when I awoke, I sat up, pushed to my knees, and looked around my old living room. A gravelly voice had me freezing.
“As pretty as you look on your knees, little love, I’m going to have to ask you what the hell you’re doing here.” Ivan’s arms were crossed, his cheek twitched, and anger emanated from him.
“I have a shift today. Please tell Alek thank you,” I answered stupidly, repeating the lie I told him the morning after round two of game night.
“A shift? You’re planning on going to work. After this?” He waved incredulously around my house, which only made me sob.
He pulled me up by my elbows, and I pushed him away. Frustration welled up inside as I clenched my fists, my jaw tensing. I continued to try to free myself from his powerful embrace.
“No,” he exclaimed, pulling me into a bear hug.
“Why are you here?” I mumbled against him, transfixed once more with his tattoo.
It was an intricate blade, taking up his entire forearm. The handle was wrapped with cloth, reminding me of the ribbons on pointe shoes. The knife’s blade had the telltale skull. It was beautiful. My fingers glided over the inked design, the raised patterns under my touch comforting somehow. A date on it stood out: 24/06/09.
