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ChapterOne
Greyson
Numbed,I continue reading the tragic moments of our lives.
Events I can’t even remember.Enya Carlton was a psychopath.If they hadn’t drugged me, I could’ve fought them.But no amount of self-defense training prepared me for the hell I lived through, nor the one I’ve been enduring every day since then.
When I read the book’s last words, I’m ready to jump out of my skin.Leave the body that holds so much agony permanently.
The pain is unbearable.So fucking unbearable, it pierces me with an intensity that defies words, but no one can see it.Nothing can make it better—one thousand five hundred and ...does it matter how many days I’ve been clean?
What’s the point when every breath I take is more painful than the next?
I could easily drown my pain with a bottle of tequila, scotch or ...any alcohol would do at this point.There are many other ways too, like finding a dealer somewhere in Seattle who’ll sell me enough heroin to make everything go away permanently.
Suddenly, Sanford’s piercing scream shatters the stillness.“Silence ...Silence killed her,” bringing me back to reality.His words hit me like a sledgehammer, resonating in my ears.My head is about to explode with all the information swirling around in my head.
“Grey, do you need your sponsor, a therapist?”Sanford asks, but I can’t seem to react.
This won’t give me any fucking closure.Seriously, how can this help me at all?
Can I take this to my therapist so he can help me sift between the reality I lived, and the hallucinations created by my mind due to the drugs they pumped into me?
My gaze loses focus, drawn toward something only I can see, something unattainable and painfully distant.And then ...well, there’s the part where she gave up.
She.
Gave.
Up.
I can’t believe it.She had so much light within herself, and even in the worst days, she found the beauty beneath the ugliness.
But even she couldn’t come back from the hell we lived through.I hate it, but I understand her.I understand her desire to simply give up.It’s something that happens on a daily basis.Some mornings, I wake up questioning if it’s even worth it to leave the warmth of my bed and face another day.
Our ballerina couldn’t hold onto anything else and left us.If The Organization had protected her, we could’ve prevented her tragic demise.Well, not me, but San could’ve saved her.I’m utterly useless, too fucking weak to help anyone.
And now that I’ve learned she’s gone, I don’t see the point in carrying on.I was so weak I couldn’t save her then and ...
“Grey, please.”Sanford’s pleading voice tries to get through me, but I can’t seem to snap out of my thoughts.“Talk to me.”
“I can’t ...I can’t breathe,” I gasp, my breaths coming out in ragged pants.“I thought she was safe ...tucked away in some forgotten town under a marshal’s protection or ...”
“Why do you think Enya had to write this?”San hits me with a question that helps me stop my current train of thought.
She wrote it because there was nothing left to fight for.She was about to give up and ...I put myself in her shoes.Her sister killed herself, her father died, and even the scumbag who she loved is gone.There wasn’t anything left to hold onto.
“Aerin,” I whisper her name for the first time in years.“Aerin wanted everyone to know the truth, and so she did.I think ...I think she might have done it as an act of redemption and after that she took her own life too.Either after she handed over her diary or finished writing her biography.She couldn’t bear the weight of her loss, her guilt.”
“Breathe, Grey.”Sanford closes the distance between us, his hand soothingly rubs circles on my back.“None of this was your fault.Or mine.Enya was disturbed, a casualty of her parents’ neglect.”
A harsh scoff escapes me.“My uncle runs one of the best intelligence agencies.He managed to save me but left her behind.You were there and didn’t take her with you.She was ours to protect, and we failed her.What the fuck is wrong with that picture?”
Sanford shrugs helplessly.“He tried, Grey.Sometimes, there are limits to what we can do within The Organization.The agencies have more weight than we do.”
“And how do you know that?”I challenge him.
“You think I didn’t barge into his office the next day demanding he get her out?”Sanford admits, fatigue etched in the lines of his face.“He nearly fired me on the spot.I was put on leave until a therapist certified that I was fit to work for The Organization.”
