Page 71 of Wasted Lust

“Why did he need me?”

I know where he’s going with this line of questioning, but I can’t bring myself to say it. Because if I do, then I have to admit that my life was planned for me as well. That I am just a pawn in a game. I am offspring.

“I’m the Admiral’s son. I’m the next in line. I’m the only thing left of the Company leadership.”

“You’re not still Company. You left. We all left. That was the whole fucking point of killing all those people ten years ago. We set the kids free—”

“I am the Company heir, Sasha.” He says it hard. In a way that leaves me no doubt that everything Jax said about him was true. “And the kids aren’t free. Just ask Sydney if the kids are free. Ask her about the kids she found two years ago. It’s bullshit what we did. The Company never died, it just went underground and regrouped with me as their promise for a new future. I did a lot of shit down in Central America, Sasha. With kids, the new Zeros—”

“Those kids on your back, that tattoo…”

“I make Zeros down in Honduras. That’s my job. I’ve been doing it for years. But in order to keep them from succeeding, I have to fuck it all up. I set them up to fail.” He grabs me by the shoulders and squeezes so hard I wince. His eyes dart back and forth, looking into each of mine like he’s desperate for me to see what’s happening. But I’m not sure I want to know these things. “I kill them,” he says in a flat voice. “I save them by killing them. I am responsible for the death of every single one. I kill. That’s my only purpose. And I’m not sorry about any of it. Every death was a sacrifice that needed to be made.”

I feel vomit coming up in my throat.

“And the only reason I came back tonight was to tell you the truth about me.”

“Why?” I’m so angry. “Why do I need to know? Why now? Why not just leave me alone? You’re the one who told me to move on, love someone else, live a normal life. So I did. I did my best, Nick. And now you’re back, fucking it all up! If you hadn’t started looking for me, I’d still be in school. Jax would’ve never found me. I’d be safe and living my stupid life as a PhD wannabe.”

“I only came back to make sure you understood. I can’t do this anymore, and I need you to understand.”

“Understand what?” I want to scream so bad.

He cups my face in both of his hands and forces me to look him in the eyes. “That you’re the only one I can trust. So when the time comes, all I’m asking is that you do your job.”

And then he stands up and walks down the stairs.

“Hey!” I yell after him. “Where do you think you’re going? You don’t get to show up here and fill my head with all this shit and just leave!”

But he keeps walking and then gets into some stupid little car parked on the other side of the street. I run after him, but his door is closed and the engine is already running before I get there. I pound on the window, but he puts the car in gear and drives off.

“Motherfucker!” I yell. Dogs start barking down the street and then a porch light goes on. I back away, all the way to the sidewalk in front of my house. Afraid that the neighbors will come out and ask me what’s wrong.

And I can’t even begin to explain.

I can’t.

Because this is history repeating. Nick came, he wrecked me, and he walked out.

Again.

My phone is ringing when I walk back inside. I pick it up, read the number that says Unknown Caller, and tab accept on the home screen. “Yeah.”

“Sasha,” Jax says, sounding a little breathless on the other end of the phone.

“Jax,” I breathe. And then I cannot say anything else. My throat closes up with my desire to cry. I want to cry my heart out.

“Sasha? Are you OK? I’ve been calling for like ten minutes. I called the safe house landline, but you didn’t pick up. And Madrid said you never went home.”

I gasp in some air.

“Sasha? Sasha? Where are you?”

“Ford’s house,” I choke out.

“Are you OK?”

I shake my head no as I sniff away the building tears. But I say, “Yes,” because that’s all I know how to do. I only know how to be OK because if the day ever comes when I’m not OK, I will die. I know it. I will drop dead on the spot from loss, and pain, and fear. And there won’t be some promise of salvation on the other side either. It can’t be that simple. It. Can’t. Be. That simple.