What Grows Dies Here

That fire would come. It would consume the underworld. Change things dramatically. Vengeance would be served.

But it wouldn’t give me back what was lost.

And it wouldn’t give Wren anything at all.

Killing worked as therapy for me. It was the one time when my mind was completely quiet. Ultra-focused. I could see things clearly without any messy emotions getting in the way.

The clarity I gained in that warehouse followed me all the way back to the hospital.

I probably should’ve gone home and changed, showered, washed the blood off properly. But I didn’t want to be away from Wren for that long.

As I was walking through the hospital halls, still stained in blood, I realized maybe I needed to be away from Wren.

Completely.

The mere thought made my skin crawl. My entire body rebelled against it. Which was probably a sign that it was the right thing to do.

I’d vowed to her a lifetime ago that I’d never let her go. I’d made an oath.

But I hadn’t imagined this. How completely this life would wreck her.

I stared at the door to her room.

If I went back in there, I’d be sentencing her to more of this. The war was only beginning. There would be blood. Death. I’d have to become my worst self.

Corrupting Wren like that was a sin that even I couldn’t commit.

My eyes panned to someone standing by the door, watching me.

I’d been aware of Stella speaking on the phone, somewhere in the back of my mind. It had been part of my training, to always be aware of everyone in my surroundings, anyone could be a hostile.

She’d been with Wren when it happened. A bullet had grazed her arm, but she was fine otherwise. Since she was discharged, she’d been practically glued to Wren’s bedside. As had Zoe, Yasmin and Wren’s parents. I made it a habit to stand outside the room when they were around, barely interacting with them. I couldn’t face them. I was that much of a fucking coward.

“It’s my fault.”

I hadn’t intended to speak, but the words left my mouth of their own volition.

Stella’s gaze was intent on me.

Hard.

“You’re leaving her?” she asked me with the hostility I deserved.

“She’s better off without me,” I replied, shifting my eyes from Stella to the closed door. “If she hadn’t met me, none of this would’ve happened.” I looked back to Stella. “I need to go now. She’ll only know pain with me.”

Wren would be well looked after, I knew that. She once said she’d slay dragons for her friends, and they would do the same for her. They’d never leave her.

Stella’s stare sharpened with anger. With hatred. “You’re a coward,” she spat with venom.

“Not just a coward but a narcissistic one at that,” she added. Her eyes went up and down my body in a way that told me she found me lacking. She titled her head. “You know, if I hadn’t gone into Klutch that night, I never would’ve met Jay, never would’ve met you, and therefore, Wren never would’ve met you. That doesn’t mean this is my fault.”

Her eyes went to the door once more, her face painted with sorrow, with pain. When she looked back to me, there was no sorrow. Just fury. “There is no one to blame for this except the people who did it.” She pointed at my bloodstained shirt. “You took care of them, didn’t you?”

I nodded because I couldn’t say anything else.

“They’ve been punished. The people who are truly responsible,” Stella sighed.

I didn’t correct her to let her know it was much bigger than that. She’d learn the hard way soon enough.