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“Show yourself,” I say, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. Whoever this mysterious stranger is, they have knowledge of my situation—and perhaps even the power to influence it.
“Trust your instincts,” the voice urges, as if reading my thoughts. “They will guide you in the right direction.”
As I stand there, torn between curiosity and apprehension, I realize that this enigmatic figure may be the key to unlocking the path before me. If I can find the courage to face the unknown, I might finally gain the clarity I so desperately crave.
“Alright,” I murmur, drawing a deep breath to steady myself. “Show me the way.”
As the words leave my lips, I sense movement behind me, and before I can react, something hard connects with the back of my head. A sharp burst of pain explodes through my skull, and blackness claims me as I lose consciousness.
39
DAMIAN
I’m on my knees, the cold concrete scraping against my skin as I pound my fists into the ground. My vision blurs as tears stream down my face, my body racked with uncontrollable sobs. The overwhelming grief and sorrow threaten to consume me whole.
“Dammit, Mikayla,” I choke out, her name tasting like ashes in my mouth. The image of her lifeless eyes haunts me, a constant reminder of the depth of my pain and loss. Those beautiful eyes that once sparkled with life are now dull and empty, staring back at me from the abyss of my nightmares.
“Please…come back,” I whisper, my voice barely audible even to myself. But I know she’s gone, taken from me far too soon. My chest tightens as an unbearable weight settles within me, crushing what remains of my shattered heart.
My hands tremble, coated in a mixture of blood and sweat, as I remember the last moments I shared with her. The way her lips felt against mine, the softness of her touch, the warmth of her embrace—all memories that will forever be etched in my mind, never to be experienced again.
“Why?” I demand, gritting my teeth. “Why did you have to leave me?”
I can’t help but feel responsible for her death, the gnawing sense of guilt consuming every fiber of my being. If only I had been there, if only I had been able to protect her—maybe then she’d still be alive. But instead, I was left with nothing but the haunting image of her lifeless eyes, a constant reminder of my failure to save her.
As I sit here, drowning in my grief, I know that I must find a way to move forward. I need to honor Mikayla’s memory by ensuring that those who hurt her pay for their actions, and by protecting the ones I still have left. It’s the only way I can begin to heal and make sense of this senseless tragedy.
But for now, all I can do is cry, my tears staining the cold concrete as I mourn the loss of my beautiful Mikayla, gone from this world but never forgotten.
The guards around me stand silently, their gazes averted, giving me space to grieve. They know better than to intrude on my moment of vulnerability. But the silence is suffocating, and I feel my rage building with each passing second. The air is thick with tension, like a taut wire waiting to snap.
“Enough,” I growl, pushing myself up from the cold concrete. Each movement feels heavy, as if the weight of my grief is physically holding me down. But I can’t afford to be weak, not now.
“Who saw it happen?” I demand, my voice harsh in the quiet room. My gun appears in my hand as if by instinct, its cold metal providing a grim sense of comfort. “Who witnessed Mikayla getting shot?”
My eyes narrow, scanning the faces of the guards for any hint of hesitation or deceit. They’re all loyal to me, but right now, I don’t know who to trust. Someone must have seen something, and they will answer for their silence.
“Speak!” I bark, my impatience growing. “I want answers, and I want them now.”
The guards exchange uneasy glances, but none of them step forward. They seem to understand the storm brewing inside me, and no one wants to become the target of my wrath.
“Fine,” I seethe, gripping my gun tightly. “If none of you will talk, I’ll find the answers myself.”
As I stalk out of the room, I can’t help but feel the crushing weight of my responsibility to protect those I love. I couldn’t save Mikayla, but I won’t let her death be in vain. My mind races, fueled by anger and determination, as I plan my next move.
“Find Annalise,” I order, my voice barely controlled. “She’s our priority now. Nothing else matters.”
With every step I take, my resolve strengthens. For Mikayla, for Annalise, and for myself, I will do whatever it takes to protect those I love and bring justice to those who dare cross us.
My heart hammers in my chest as I scan their faces, searching for any hint of guilt or fear. It’s then that I notice one of the guards near the back of the room, his face bruised and battered, eyes downcast.
“Step forward,” I command, and he obeys, moving to stand before me with a slight limp. “What happened to you?”
“Sir, I tried…I tried to protect her,” he stammers, his voice on the verge of breaking. “I fought them off as best as I could, but there were too many, and they were armed.”
His words pierce through my anger, deflating it like a popped balloon. I study his injuries and see the truth in his eyes. He did everything in his power to save Mikayla, but in the end, it wasn’t enough.
“Thank you,” I tell him quietly, my voice thick with emotion. “You did your best. This isn’t on you.”
