And as he dragged me away, the screams behind the door, those final, desperate cries, faded into the roar of the flames.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
The waves lapped gently against the shore, soft, slow, indifferent.
Hypnotic, even.
They didn’t care what I’d done. They didn’t know.
I sat hunched in the sand, arms wrapped tight around my knees, watching the dock. Just a few minutes away, the fire still crackled behind us. The air was thick with smoke and salt, and every gust of wind carried the faint scent of burning wood and ash. I could still see the orange glow rising above the wall that surrounded the gentlemen’s club.
I hoped it would contain the fire.
But I doubted it.
Everyone else had fled the premises, the guards, the guests, and the few girls who’d made it out. I wondered what would happen with them. If they’d take the chance and use it to escape.
Will was shouting something I couldn’t make out. He stood by the edge of the dock, tugging at a rope tied around a mooring post, his voice sharp in the night air. Beside him, Aran clambered into a small fishing boat and began checking the lines, his knuckles white as he pulled the sail loose and tested the rudder.
I pressed my fingers into the cool sand, needing something solid beneath me. The sea looked calm, beautiful, even. Moonlight traced silver across the water’s surface. But it didn’t match the way I felt. There was nothing calm in me, just the ringing in my ears and the tightness in my chest.
The hollow ache that wouldn’t let go.
Will untied the last rope, his hands quick but shaking, as Aran jumped back onto the dock. I watched their silhouettes move, thankful that they were there. I had no plan for that scenario. Where would we go when I’d burned the world down?
The water looked so peaceful. I wanted to walk into it, just keep walking until it was over my head, until it closed around me, cold and quiet and still.
Maybe it would cool the fire still burning in my veins.
No.
I knew the truth.
I would scorch the sea before it ever soothed me.
Licia sat beside me in silence, her knees drawn up, her eyes locked on the water. But she didn’t look peaceful either. Her eyes were glassy, her hands clenched.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
It was a stupid question. What did that even mean anymore?
Licia turned to me, and for a heartbeat her expression was so sharp I thought she might slap me.
“Areyouokay?” she snapped back.
Her tone had that same bite that old Licia did. Maybe she was still there. Somewhere beneath all the trauma and hurt and pain.
But she wasn’t the same. Neither was I.
I was a monster.
How was I supposed to look at myself now? How was I supposed to pretend that it wasn’t what I was? What I hadbecome.
And sitting there in the dark, I remembered it all.
The way he screamed. The way his skin melted. The way I didn’t look away.
And the worst part? A small part of me enjoyed it. I liked not being scared anymore. I liked being in control. And I liked killing that man.
