The Void Queen's Ascension

Chapter 23

"I'm alive. I'll be fine."

"For how long? Surely, you realize he is only using you."

I lean against the frame of the door. Raising a hand to massage my neck. "Zander," I utter out. "I'll be alright.

He sighs. "I don't—"

"Please. How did you even--?"

"Sheer coincidence." He replies before raising a hand to rest it on my cheek. I pull away roughly. In his eyes, I could see the hurt. The pain. He immediately lowers his hand and turns away. Moving down the corridor. Closing the door, I lean against the wall.

You miss him.

You really do miss him.

Yeah, but if I were to be with him, like my heart truly desires, I would never know what I am capable of. I would never get justice for what my father made me go through.

Some things are left to be unsolved. I slide down the door and release what sounded like a choked sob.

I know I brought him back. Believe me I know that, but how, I still didn't comprehend.

Some things are not meant to be known.

I stagger to my feet and move to the bed. Staring at the motionless box that is my phone. I stare up at the ceiling, counting the expansive white dots.

So, fucking stupid. Why would you bet your love?

Why would you push him away for someone who you don't even love?

Who are you even angry with?

Myself? Or what I am? I unplug my phone and toss it to the other side of the room.

Fuck you! I don't need you.

Oh, sweetheart, you know you need me. I am you. I ignore it. Ignore the ache within my chest as I reach out for the remote. Flicking on the television, I zone out, getting lost in the numerical listing of dots on the ceiling.

On the second floor, Zander slams the door to his hotel room. The door's hinges rattle at the force of the motion. His back digs deep into the door. Both hands run back and forth through his hair. His eyes close. Ignoring the ache in his heart. He moves away from the door, shaking his head. He moves to his phone which sits charging on the counter near the bathroom. He flips through his contacts, noticing Aidan's contact.

No.

Not yet. He shuts off his phone. Gaze fixating on the ceiling. He struggles to stay awake.

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Leveled breathing.

A hand flicked upward, trailing through his hair. He grins as his other hand navigates itself to the holstered pistol hiding beneath his suit jacket.

The therapeutic clicking of his heels against the leveled asphalt ground pierces his ears. Easing the welling anxiety within him.

I'm not a killer.

You are. You're going to shut up and let me handle this.

No! You're not me.

Such a childish thing, Loch. We've been over this.

I don't need you right now.

Oh? How are you going to pull the trigger on the woman—?