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“She’s dead.”
… She reminds me of Sophia…
“We can’t just go,” I say. Trying my best to shake the haze from my mind, I turn to face Ray, but he’s already in the driver’s seat.
“Fuck, you must have really hit your head hard,” he curses. “Come on, get in. There’s nothing else we can do here.”
He’s right, and I know it. I’ve been around so much death and violence in my life. I’ve seen things far worse than some girl dying from a head wound. So, why am I so fucking shell-shocked by this shit right now?
Because she reminds you of Sophia. The books. The college girls. The pain in your leg. It’s her fault.
No. It’s not her fault. It’s my fault. I’m the weak one.
“I’m fine,” I mumble, finally getting into the passenger seat. A furious anger builds up behind my chest as I close the door behind me.
Immediately, Ray takes off.
“I wouldn’t say you’re fine,” Ray huffs. “But don’t worry, I’ll take you to Elisa and her team of nurses. They’ll mend you right up.”
An intense rage replaces the pain pounding against the inside of my skull. My chest is on fire. The pain in my leg has returned.
I’m a complete fucking mess. A failure. A cripple and a poor excuse for an assassin.
There’s no way a nurse can fix this.
… But I know what might be able to help calm me the fuck down.
It’s the only clear thought it my entire crumbling mind.
“No,” I shake my head. Wiping a hand down my face, I feel the blood on my lips. “Take me back to the brownstone.”
16
Sophia
I almost don’t want to finish.
It’s not the salad’s fault—hell, this might be the tastiest meal I’ve been brought so far. No. Don’t blame yourself, little leaf.
What keeps me from dipping my fork back into the nearly empty bowl is the idea that the second I take that last leaf and shove it down my gullet, I’ll have nothing left to distract me from the fear of what comes next.
Ever since Leonid left again, a million different scenarios have been running through my fracturing mind. None of them are pleasant.
Even though he said he’d be right back, I knew he wouldn’t be. Don’t ask how I knew. I just did. Call it an instinct. A skill forged from years of growing up around men in the same business as my captor.
It’s not that he was lying. He just didn’t know any better.
I did.
But then he was gone for even longer than I thought he would be, and my mind started spinning with invasive thoughts.
For the short time I’ve known him, Leonid has seemed so certain of himself, so cocky. He knows what he wants and he takes it.
Even when he refuses to be completely honest about what he wants… eventually, it comes out.
Like when he kissed me.
My heart flutters as I stare down at that last leaf in my bowl. Despite my stomach being full, there’s still an emptiness whirling around inside of it.
