“Fucking do it already,” I try to speak, but the cold steel is pressed on my tongue.
For a second, he even considers it, his ragged breath betraying the struggle within.
A loud groan escapes him as he slowly withdraws the gun.
“Do it, Ares,” I challenge. “Because I won’t stop. I’ll never stop searching for Elias’ killer, and I won’t forgive you if you kill 404.”
Ares’s eyes go completely dark, his face gaining dangerous edges, his breath uneven, like he’s about to tear the world apart. He takes a quick step toward me and pushes me to the ground before I get to react. Then, in the blink of an eye, pulls the trigger on 404.
eleven
-Brynn-
A scream escapes my lungs as I turn toward 404 to see if he’s dead. The man is curled up on the floor, shock printed all over his face as he holds the upper side of his left arm, blood already pooling between his fingers.But that’s not what pains him most. “Elias is dead?” He asks, voice fading. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wasn’t sure who to trust at first, then... I just didn’t get the chance.” I kneel next to him to examine his wound. It’s not bad enough to be life-threatening, but it isn’t a scratch either. He’ll need some serious stitches, but he will survive. And that brings my attention to Ares because he doesn’t strike me as the kind who ever misses. This was intentional. He wanted to punish him, not to kill him.
Ares’ back is to us, gun still in his hand, that same tension still in his body. I can feel it in every breath. I don’t need to see his face to know he’s still closer to the darkness than to me.
I stand, forcing my leg to walk over to him. “Thank you,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his back until my palms reach his chest. I know he didn’t kill 404 because of me. I also know that sparing him broke Ares’ code of values.
Traitors don’t get to live in his world. Yet 404 still breathes and I’m the only thing standing between him and his death.
“Ricky,” I call, and Ares’ henchman shows up in a heartbeat. “Take 404 back to his old room and get him some medical attention.” I nod to 404, so he won’t say anything. I have a plan. But he needs to keep quiet so I can make it work. Besides, I need him out of here, before Ares changes his mind.
Ricky doesn’t move before looking at Ares, since he’s his loyal dog. As soon as Ares nods his head as a yes, he helps 404 up and disappears with him.
Only then can I finally breathe. I sometimes forget who Ares really is when we’re alone, but this certainly just reminded me of his power and influence. The way he commands any room he walks into, the way he instills fear into anyone present.
“Ares,” I walk right in front of him, trying to assess how bad the situation really is.
Judging by the chilling coldness reflected in his eyes—it’s bad.
This isn’t just anger, it’s something darker, bordering at the edge of chaos.
That makes me reconsider insisting on my plan regarding 404, and more on calming him down. “I’ll make it up to you.” I don’t mean it in a sexual way. I’ll make it up to him every time I get a chance. I’ll be thereifandwhenhe needs me.
He doesn’t respond, just turns and walks away, expecting me to follow.
I walk behind him, much slower, as usual, and once I’m outside, I see him waiting in the car. I slip into the passenger seat, and he drives off before I even get the chance to close the door.
The drive back to his place is tense, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tension.
When we finally pull up in front of his house, he doesn’t even kill the engine, just drops me off since he’s got—and I quote—other business to attend to.
I’m seriously pissed off because he expects me to rot here all day instead of taking me along with him, but I don’t comment. I still have some self-preservation, which tells me to leave everything for later, maybe even for a few more days.
That doesn’t mean I’m gonna make things easier for him. As soon as I get inside, I remember the large stack of boxes filled with clothes and otherthingshe bought for me. Those would really come in handy right now.
It’s late when Ares gets back home, and I’m not surprising him with some dinner I would’ve busted my ass cooking all night and would probably end up killing us both. I made myself a sandwich a few hours ago, so I’m not hungry, and Ares doesn’t seem in the mood to eat. Or talk. Or acknowledge my presence.
He just strides to his bedroom, dismissing me entirely, like I’m just some ghost haunting his space.
The door closes behind him with a definite thud, echoing the finality of whatever happened in the warehouse.
I was planning a glass of wine and nice conversation where I would try to smooth things over, not that I’m the right kind of person to smooth anything. Still, I wanted to give it a try.
That’s definitely not going to work, so I might as well get ready for bed.
