Syrena

A few weeks later

“You left a spot here,” Roy says, clenching his teeth. “I give you a place to sleep and work after you disappeared on me for months, and this is how you do your job?”

He chucks the towel at my face.

“Sorry,” I say, grabbing it and quickly dabbing the table again.

“Don’t do it again,” he grumbles as he shuffles off.

I’m trying my best not to throw the towel right back at him, but I have to keep my composure. Roy’s club is the only place with a decent room for me. None of the motels would take me without a credit card, and some even threatened to call the cops on me. So what else was I supposed to do but come right back to the only place I know that will accept me?

I just have to ignore the constant moaning of the girls fucking the customers in the back of the club as I clean the tables and throw away the dirty water from my bucket.

When I’m finally done cleaning, I go upstairs for a little bit to have lunch. Roy gives me a small paycheck off which I can at least survive. It’s not much, but it’s something.

Still, sitting here on my bed, slurping up noodles from a cup, I can’t help but think back to the warm bed and comfortable home I lived in for what felt like an eternity. I choke up a little and cough as tears spring to my eyes.

Even though it didn’t last long, it was the most illuminating time in my life.

And maybe even … the best I’ve ever had. Just remembering Chase’s food makes my mouth water as I pretend he made these noodles.

Goddammit, I really have to stop doing this every time I eat.

Or shower.

Or lie in bed.

But for some reason, my mind can’t stop drifting off to that man who consumed my every waking thought. Who gave me all the riches in the world and never wanted anything in return except love. Whose only weakness was his lust for power … and his need to kill those who stood in the way.

A shiver runs up and down my spine, and I sniff to stop myself from crying. I can’t. Not over him. It’s because of him that I lost a shot at a proper life. If he hadn’t let my mom escape, if he hadn’t let her run back to Graham—my fucking father—she would’ve been alive to take care of me.

She would’ve done anything to protect me. To nurture me. To help me. Right?

That’s what I keep telling myself, but then why did she leave me with him? I was only a little baby. And just to go back to that … monster?

I throw the empty cup of noodles into the corner of my room and huddle on my bed with my blanket wrapped firmly around me. I can’t believe that sick bastard, Graham, is really my father.

I refuse to even call him that.

Did he know when he took me from this very club that I was his daughter?

Or was it all a fluke? A random chance meeting?

Was I just some blind girl without a past he could easily lock up and use?

I shake my head. I’ll never know the answers—not until I talk to him, and that’s never going to happen because I’m never, ever going back to the compound.

I just have to figure out a way to contact Ella and Cage. Maybe if I save enough money, I can hire someone to get them out of there. If I can ever even figure out where the hell the compound is.

God, I don’t think I’ve ever hated being blind more than today.

“Syrena? Get your ass down here. The customers need more drinks!” Roy shouts, banging on the door.

I sigh and get out from my curled-up ball. I’m not ready to face the noise downstairs, the clapping and whistling customers, the loud music, Roy’s yelling.

But I go anyway.

I go because I must.

Because this is the life I chose.

The freedom I so desperately wanted.

* * *

Chase

A few days later

As I sit on the stool and stare at the dark wall ahead of me, I fade away into oblivion.

I don’t think I’ve ever gotten so drunk before that I don’t even know what I’m doing, but I don’t care. Alcohol is the only thing that’ll drown out her voice. Her whispers. Her touch.

But fuck me … I can’t stop thinking about her.

She’s probably at Roy’s right now, working her ass off for a meager paycheck. That fucker can’t see what she’s worth, doesn’t know what he has.

What if he hits her again?

Just the thought makes my blood boil.

I should go there and get her, but I know she’d hate me for it, which is the last thing I want. I’m going against every fiber of my being by not helping her. I didn’t even give her cash so she could stay at a better place than Roy’s, but I know she’ll never accept it. Not even when I forced it on her. She’d just chuck it back in my face.

She doesn’t want me anymore. Or anything that has to do with me.

I take another sip and stare wistfully at the people around me, wondering if they’re here for the very same reason I am. If they’re drowning in a hell of their own making too. If one of them is a delinquent … because if so, I might kill that one later.

I really need a fix right now.

Anything to get rid of this rage flowing through my veins.

Fuck, I should’ve killed Graham when I had the chance.

Way back when … when I first got my hands on her mother. I should’ve finished the job then. But no, I actually wanted to let him continue, so I could catch more of the guys who continuously went to him to get their fix. I wanted all of them to die so badly that I exchanged my own morals for the sake of hunting them down. I’m just as evil as they are.

Fuck, I need more to drink.

I slurp up the whiskey and slam down my glass onto the bar. “Another one.”

Suddenly, someone sits down beside me and holds his hand over my glass. “Enough.” I look up into Brandon’s familiar face. “Don’t you think?”

“Oh … it’s you again,” I say.

“Hello to you too,” he says, laughing. “You look like a mess.”

“Thanks, so do you.”

“Hey, you invited me here, remember?”

“Did I?” I narrow my eyes. “Can’t remember.”

He nods. “Figured.” He signals the bartender. “Two waters, please.”

“Water?” I scoff. “What kind of pussy are you?”

“The pussy who helps his friend when he’s obviously in need.”

“Tsk …” I grumble, looking away. “I don’t need any help.”

“Right.” He slides one of the glasses filled with water toward me. “Drink up. Might make you feel better.”

Reluctantly, I take a big gulp, but it doesn’t do it for me.

“What are you doing here?” he asks after a while.

“What does it look like?” I glance his way.

“Like you’re trying to kill yourself.”

I shrug. “Not sure if that’s so bad.”

“No.” He grabs my shoulders and forces me to turn around. “But the you I know would never say this.”

“Maybe the world is better off without me. Don’t you think?”

He raises a brow. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” I reply, completely blanking out. “Have another name on the list? I could do with a hit.”

“Stop,” he says, briefly placing a hand on my shoulder. “That’s enough.”

“Why?” I frown.

“Because you’re clearly miserable. Why?”

“Because she’s gone, that’s why.” I turn my head so I don’t have to see the obnoxious look on his face. I know he thinks I’m a sad, pathetic asshole, and he’s right. But I don’t need confirmation of that right now. I know exactly who I am and what I’ve done.

“What, did she escape?” he scoffs.

I let out a sigh and put down my glass. “I let her go.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence, and for a second, I think he might’ve run off.

“What? For real?” There’s more shock in his voice than I anticipated.

I nod, and he pats me on the back. “Well done.”

I gaze his way. “I told her everything.”

His eyes widen. “Everything everything?”

“Everything.” I take another sip of water just to cope with that thought.

“Even the ki—”

“Even that,” I interrupt.

“But why?”

“Because she deserved to know everything.”

“And you trust her with all that information?” he asks.

“With my life,” I say. “And if she calls the cops … well, I don’t even care.”

He coughs. “Would she, though?”

“You never know.” I shrug. “Not that it matters.”

“Right.” He nods slowly. “Well, whatever reasons you had for telling her and then releasing her … I’m still proud of you.”

“Oh, save it,” I groan, finishing my drink. “Another one!” I call out to the bartender.

“You should be proud of yourself too. You did something not even you considered a possibility.”

“And I lost her in the process.”

“You didn’t let her go freely?”

“She demanded to be let out. How could I not oblige?” I say with a deadly grin, which disappears instantly because it was meaningless. Just like my life.

“You gave her what she wanted,” he says. It’s not a question.

“Yep,” I say, drawing circles on the wood with just my index finger while trying not to lose my mind.

It’s quiet for some time again, and we both drink our water in peace. It doesn’t quite match up to the alcohol from before, but I get what he’s doing. He’s trying to keep me alive, and I appreciate that even though I don’t see the point.

“You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?” I ask.

“Nope.”

I shake my head, snorting.

Of course, that’s the kind of friend he is. Never let down someone in need. Even when he hates you for it.

But what about her? Did I let her down in need? Or did I finally give her what she needed the most? Even if she hates me for it?

I wonder where she is right now. If she’s doing what she’s always wanted. If she’s happy.

If she can feel only a fragment more than what she felt when she was with me, then that’s enough for me.

I can live with her not being near me as long as she’s alive.

As long as she finds what she’s looking for in life.

Because I’ll never find it again. That, I’m sure of.

It was only when I lost her that I realized just how much she really meant to me. How much she’s seeped into my soul and still lingers there.

I love her.

And that’s why I let her go.

“If it’s killing you that much, why didn’t you convince her to stay?” Brandon asks.

I slam my fist on the bar. “Don’t you think I tried?”

Now everyone’s looking at me. I clear my throat and add, “Sorry.” And we wait until everyone in the room settles down again.

“I’ll never see her again …” I mutter, gazing at the glass of water in front of me.

“Not if you don’t try to win her back,” Brandon says.

I snort. “Win her back? After everything I said?”

“Why not? If you love her … And you clearly do, looking at how fucked up you are right now.”

I shake my head, but when I open my mouth, I can’t think of the words to say to refute him.

Because that’s just the thing … I can’t.

He’s absolutely right.

But is that really what I should do?

It’s selfish. Arrogant.

I’m an asshole to think she’d ever want me to come get her. To ever think I deserve her in my life.

“No. She doesn’t want me.”

“How do you know?”

“You didn’t see the look on her face when I told her,” I say.

“I don’t have to. Can you see inside her mind? Maybe she was just upset. Obviously. But how do you know she doesn’t love you too?”

“How could anyone love a monster like me?” I say, frowning.

“How do you know they can’t?”

My lips part, but I grab the water and chug that down instead. “Goddammit.”

Brandon laughs. “Not everything has to be so complicated. Stop making up excuses. Just try …”

“And then what?” I growl.

He shrugs. “If she doesn’t, you’ll figure it out. But you have to at least give it a shot. Fight for her. Maybe it’ll work, you never know.” He smiles. “Besides, she’s had a taste of freedom now. She got what she wanted. I don’t think she’ll lie to you. There’s no need if you let her make her own decision.”

“Right.” I slurp down the water in one go.

“If she knows who you are … what you are … and she still accepted you … then why not?”

He makes it seem so simple, and as I nod at his words, I come to realize that it truly is that simple.

Love isn’t about questions and answers, about truths and lies, or about rights and wrongs.

It’s about how badly you want it more than anything. How crippled it makes you feel when it isn’t there. And how powerful it makes you feel when it is.

Because when she was in my arms … I felt impenetrable.

Like I was always going to be there to protect her. Like she could take anything she wanted from me, and I’d still have enough to give.

I slam the glass on the bar and get up from the stool.

“Where are you going?” Brandon asks.

As I glance over my shoulder, I grin and say, “To fight.”