Lennox stepped back. The look on her face was worse than I’d prepared myself for. She touched her heart and I knew why. I felt it too. I felt the tearing sensation, as if I’d ripped a piece of myself out just by saying that.
“You don’t…” Lennox whispered. “You don’t mean that.” I saw her blink her tears away, and in that moment I saw the resolve she built. I saw her construct her defenses to be with me. A while ago I’d said we were irrevocable, and that was the problem.
Lennox would never stop fighting for me, just like I would never stop fighting for her. I needed to break us, so she could become unbreakable. When Lenny placed her small hand on my shoulder, I snapped it away and raised my hand.
Then I hit her across the face.
It wasn’t enough force to break anything, but it would be enough to leave a bruise. I didn’t want to hurt Lenny. Fuck, I never wanted to hurt her. It felt like I’d kicked myself in the balls hitting her across the face, but I needed to leave a bruise.
I needed the world to see I’d hit her. On the off chance she decided she wanted to come back, I needed the world to tell her no. I needed Lissie and Zoe to think I was an asshole. I needed them to see the purple mark on her face so they’d keep her away. I needed her to stay away. I needed her safe. The only way Lennox was safe was if I was out of the picture.
The next moments passed in a blur, as if I was watching them through a slideshow someone was running too fast. I tried to stop the pictures so I could memorize them and save them away for later. Even though I loathed that this was the last way I would see her, it was the last, so I had to memorize it.
She touched her cheek, her eye, and her chest. Tears fell freely from her deep blue eyes. She grabbed clothes. She looked at me, her face convoluted in confusion and fear, true fear. She was afraid of me. There was a moment where it looked like she might stay, might convince herself to stay even after everything, so I hardened my face, and the fear returned. When she ran out the door, a part of me went with her.
I sat next to the bed smelling Lenny’s shirt like some fucking pussy out of a romance novel. A part of me thought she would come back. A part of me thought she would burst through the door right away and, in our sick, twisted, and completely toxic way, I could explain. Even though I knew nothing would ever change if she came back, it would be better. Sort of like the way drinking makes depression better.
I stared at the bedroom door with her shirt in my hand, but she never came back.
When it finally started to hit me that she wasn’t going to return, I had other thoughts. I started to imagine that she told the police. That she went to them, her eye black and blue, and told her story. I gripped her shirt tighter, imagining them coming through the door instead.
I just wanted something to fucking happen. Somethin
g. Anything instead of just waiting in silence, knowing she was out there and I’d hurt her physically and emotionally. When we’d had our fights before, I thought those silences were deafening. I thought they were painful. I had no fucking clue. I was truly alone now, living in the fucking reminder.
I used to be alone. I used to have no one. Before Lenny, it was only me. You don’t realize how quiet a room is until the music stops playing.
Fuck.
My phone eventually blew up, and that was a short reprieve. First Lissie texted, calling me all kinds of colorful and hateful names. “Cumguzzler” was probably my favorite. Then Zoe sent me a text.
Vic, I like to think that over the years we’ve gotten to know each other a bit. First you were my landlord. You were a pretty shitty landlord, but you were never a shitty person. I’m worried about you. I never thought you had it inside of you to do this to someone you loved. I still don’t. Please contact me, or get help. You still have someone on your side.
I threw my phone against the wall and opened up a bottle of bourbon.
There was a knock on the door. I had just about drunk my acts away, but there was a chance it could be Lenny, and that chance sobered me right up. I felt giddy at the thought, and was once again reminded of a fucking romance novel. Then I remembered our life wasn’t roses and chocolate. It was ashes and charcoal. I glanced over at the corner where’d I’d thrown the black card. Whoever was knocking probably had the matching white one.
I’d worked for GEM for years, but I’d only been on a few blacklist missions. I’d looked at the pearly cards they gave me with no other thought than it was the job. I provided recon for the men who would dole out the judgments. It was the nature of the trade, I would tell myself.
Now it was my turn to be judged. Maybe it was karma. You can’t devote your life to killing and not expect to be killed. So as I heard a second knock on the door, I knew it was Death himself curling his fist, and I wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance to answer. I was pretty fucking comfy on the floor with my bourbon and my regrets.
Assassins, mercenaries, contract killers, whatever name you wanted to call them, they’re all the same fucked up entity. I wouldn’t have put it past them to knock on the door to draw me over. Once I looked through the peephole they’d put a bullet through my eye.
Glaring warily as a third knock sounded, I stood up. I always carried a weapon on me, usually a SIG, and today was no exception. It might be my turn to die, it might be penance for all the deaths I’d caused—tangentially or by my own hand—but I wasn’t going down without a fight.
I walked over to the door and sidled up against the wall, then reached across and unlocked it. With my gun out, I waited for death to enter my home. The door opened slowly, a barely noticeable creak on the hinge.
“Uh…” My brows rose at the voice. “Vic?”
“Grace?” I asked, peeling myself off the wall. “What the hell are you doing here? I told you to get as far away as possible.”
“And we did…” Grace trailed off, looking around the apartment like she was inspecting for termites. “We were as far as Washington when we got a cryptic text from Lennox. So lemme ask you, what the hell is goin’ on round here?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” As long as the people I care about get as far away as fucking possible, I added grimly in my head. I only needed one thing from those I loved: stay the fuck away from me. Clearly that was too much to ask. I ran a hand over my face. “Grace you need to leave. It isn’t safe.”
“Lenny is down in the car.” Grace pinned me with her gaze, but stayed in the doorway.
“Why the fuck is she down there?” I exclaimed.