Deception. Betrayal. Mistrust.
It seems the closer Rayne gets to the truth, the more she finds herself wanting to run away from it. It's complex and terrifying-more than she ever fathomed.
New family members, good and bad, pop out at her like a br...
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𝗧he shrapnel from the ceiling littered his face, waking him up from an agitated sleep he was forced into from the fall over the balcony. His eyes had barely peeled open when he noticed what was about to hit him from the floor above him.
Placing a loose hand on the ground, he spun out of the way and avoided the rock of cement at the last second, landing uneasily on his stomach. The ringing in his ears from a loud blast that he hadn't been awake to hear had him cursing under his breath as the crunch of rock to the floor created a second wave of sound-shock.
There wasn't much left to the imagination; pushing up and into a half-assed sitting position, he heaved his dry lungs as the situation dawned eerily on his mind. He didn't remember a lot in regards to what happened before he went belly-over the railing—he must have blacked out—but he did recall hearing Mason's voices amongst a sea of others.
Sitting just below the edge now, he craned his neck to get a feel for what was occurring up there. Seconds passed before he understood that the sound either didn't travel well between these walls of slathered concrete, or the conversations were long gone and the person he cared about most was no longer amongst the living.
"Mason," he attempted to say.
His voice came out less than a whisper; his throat was raspy and empty.
Isaac wanted to do more. He wanted to climb up there and save the only person he had left to live for, but his heart weighed him down and his mind was too far gone for that wish to come true. Every direction he looked in for guidance—for a way of understanding—all he saw was the same image.
Taryn reached her beautiful hand out to him, and before he could grab it, Nico took hold of it and used it as leverage to slice her throat open.
Wincing, he bent halfway over and allowed one palm to support his body weight while the other clutched at the clothing covering his heart. For the first time since the fighting began, he let tears slide down the path of his crooked nose and fall flat in a puddle just beneath him. Coming back to reality helped him recognize where they were, but it also brought back his dreadful memories.
Taryn.
My beautiful girl.
Together for three and a half years—married for not even two and a half months.
He planned for a lifetime alongside each other, and now that ideal was a dreadful anchor. He knew he would never hear her laugh again, yet somehow, the ringing in his ears became that piercing melody. He realized he would never hold her hand, or touch her skin, but as he gripped his shirt, the coolness of his marriage ring reminded him that she would always be there.
But even then—it wasn't enough.
Footsteps slapped the puddles around him as he looked up, vengeance back in his eyes. Reflections scattered around the area in which he now saw as a fighting arena as the water and the surround sound gave away the placement of the one person who could fix this all.
