“Did she tell you I would kill you? Did she tell you I would skin you alive for harming so much as a hair on her head??” I slam my fist again and he groans and rolls uncomfortably to the side, bringing the chair with him.
“Z, she fell on her own . . . !” he begs. “I was just keeping her to keep you from finishing the list!”
“You touched her, you fucking cunt, didn’t you?”
“YES! I grabbed her tits, I wanted to piss you off!”
I slam my fists into him, repeatedly, yelling, “Congratulations, I’m pissed. And now. You’re. DEAD!”
I pummel him, then curl an arm around his neck and start squeezing the life out of him.
Promise you won’t kill anyone. The words come back to haunt me. My eyes begin to sting as I remember the hope in her eyes that one night. Promise me you won’t kill anyone.
Growling in defeat, I let go, panting as I catch my breath and drag my arm across my wet eyes.
Promise me you won’t kill anyone . . .
“Zero,” I hear someone yelling. “The ambulance is here.”
I walk to my unconscious girl, still fallen in that same spot, and I drop to my knees, taking her hand in mine. “Remember when I told you I didn’t beg?” I whisper. “I’m begging you. Come back to me.”
? ? ?
WHEN I WAS thirteen years old I lost the most precious thing in my life.
Then I built a fortress around myself so that I’d never again lose anything I cared about. Never again feel lost, betrayed, alone, or kidnapped.
I became as cold as ice and as calculating as a robot.
I let no one in.
Loved no one, not even my family.
And it all works out great until you let down your guard.
And you finally do let someone in.
A blonde, green-eyed girl who just laughs about everything.
Who loves everything and everyone.
Who connects with people like she was born to it.
And you start wishing in the deepest part of you that she’d connect with you.
And no matter how demonic you are, what an asshole you are, that you lie to her, refuse to share the truth about you with her, she does connect with you.
She opens up the gate and walks inside you before you know it, and you feel so fucking full, so fucking blessed, you slam the doors closed and lock her inside, protecting yourself, protecting her.
Until you realize you’re done for.
Until you’re no longer cold, no longer a robot. You carry your weakness deep in your heart and her pain is your pain.
Until her smiles are all you live for.
Until you sit in a hospital chair and wait and pray for the first time in your life to a god that never heard you when you prayed for him to let you see your mother.
You still pray because Zero has no power here. Your money holds no sway here. Nothing counts except your will, and you can do nothing except pray, please, not her.
But it is her.
The doctors walked out to speak to me. To let me know the news.
She’s in a coma.
She’s barely breathing on her own.
She’s somewhere far away where I don’t exist, where I can’t get her, can’t protect her. And I still see her, feel her, hear her. Need her. LOVE THE DAYLIGHTS OUT OF HER.
She never knew that I did.
Hell, I didn’t know.
Neither of us knew.
I brush my arm over my eyes when they keep burning, then stare at the text message from C.C. I got several minutes ago, numb to what it says.
Your father just passed.
Without a word, I stand and go stare through the window at her, my one and only princess, then I head down the hall to plan my father’s funeral.
? ? ?
“CONGRATULATIONS, Z.”
“Congratulations, Z!”
“Zero, congratulations!”
I scowl when we reach the compound the day after my father’s funeral, watching Eric cautiously approach with a large, closed steel box.
“What’s this?” I ask. I’m not only thrown by the reception of the team, but by the items he’s holding outstretched in his hands.
“Everything, Greyson. Ownership to the Underground. Something that belonged to your mother. And this.”
I’m confused as he hands me an envelope, but then my mind is worth shit now. I’m worth shit. I feel like roadkill. I haven’t eaten in forty hours. Haven’t slept. Haven’t taken a bath.
“I didn’t finish the list, Eric,” I feel obligated to specify.
“Yes you did. By the time your father died, every last name on the list was accounted and paid for.”
“Not Melanie . . .”
“Her friend brought in her payment for her.”
He pulls out the necklace from his pocket, and I almost unravel at the sight of the familiar jewels, sparkling like mad.
The diamonds glitter, and I touch the necklace she used to wear on her neck.
Memories assault me. Melanie asking what list would this be? Melanie wanting to go inside my steel room. Melanie cooking for me. Melanie Melanie Melanie. I want to see her eyes sparkling bright. I want to see her eyes open and LOOK THE FUCK AT ME LIKE SHE ALWAYS DOES! With life. Like I’m her god. Like I’m her guy.
Princess, do you realize what this means? I want to tell her as I take her necklace in my hands and stare at it while I feel poleaxed in the gut, chainsawed in my chest. You saved me, baby. You fucking saved me. I can find my mother now.
But there’s no joy in my heart, not even at this news. There will never be joy in my heart if those green eyes don’t fucking open and see me. Please just see me if only to tell me what a fucking asshole she thinks I am. Tell me I’m the reason she’s like this right now.
“So this is it? This is where she is?” I ask Eric as I look down at the sealed envelope, my voice rough with the emotions I’m trying hard to keep concealed.
He nods toward that envelope. The one containing the information I’ve waited over a decade for. Things claw and knife at me as I grab the note and tear it open. I’ve waited thirteen years for this. Thirteen. I have done unspeakable things for this, for her. To find her. Try to protect her.
Pulling out the paper, I read the address written down in my father’s handwriting, and that’s when it hits me. Like a torpedo slamming into me, it hits me.