Page 38 of Bitter Pills


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It was always meant to come to this. I knew the moment I saw Alessandro and Grace walking around Sydney that this couldn't last. It was too dangerous. Loving me was a death sentence.

I refused to let anyone else from my life die.

I refused to let the Ringleaders murder more innocent people on my watch.

Sunshine, poor, poor Sunshine.

Her baby.

The only way out of this was death, and I was willing to die for the people I loved.

I found a car. Stole it. The old Nissan smelled like cigarettes and body odor. The seats were cut up, and it groaned whenever I tried to push it to highway speeds. I didn't care. I let it carry me away from Grace, away from Alessandro.

I drove. My mind felt like a broken mirror, the reflection too jaded and cracked. I stole a phone from a teenage girl wearing shorts that showed off her thong at the gas station. My heart knew what needed to be done far before my brain did. While sitting in the front seat, I reached out to the Ringleaders. I found failure at the press of a button. I gave myself up for them, I told them to find me. And then I drove far, far away.

The trade felt like my only option, and I wanted some relief from the pain I felt. I had to save them. I had to fix this.

I followed the sun. I thought of my best friend. Of her calm, reassuring smile. Her heart. Her kindness. Her sass. I thought about how she grew. How she found love in the four men who she ran from. The only relief I felt was that she died with the men she loved.

My mind fluttered to memories of us in our loft apartment, sharing what little we had and finding family in each other.

"Why did you save me that day, Nix?" she'd asked while munching on popcorn.

I looked at her and grinned. I couldn't really give her an answer. "I suppose it was fate. I just felt like I was supposed to, you know? I've always trusted my gut. It's never steered me wrong."

"I'm glad you did," she'd replied.

"Me, too."

I did my best to remember it all. Every smile. Every moment. All of me wanted to rebel, every memory was a painful declaration. It felt like saying goodbye as I swam through the many nights we spent together, cuddling, holding one another, and accepting each other for who we were. I didn't want to live in a world where I would miss her, even if it was a privilege to have someone so wonderful to miss.

She shouldn't have died. My gut was telling me that I was to blame for this. My gut was telling me that I had to turn myself in before anyone else died.

If only Grace and Alessandro had just stayed the fuck away. It was selfish of me to blame them, and even more selfish to take this road alone. I just didn't see another way out of this. Gavriel was a monster of a man. If the Ringleaders could kill him, then what hope did Grace and Alessandro have?

I was at war with myself. Part of me was thankful for this time with them. I got to leave this earth knowing I had one last moment with the people who owned my heart. I reconciled with the boy who taught me how to love, and then I reunited with the woman who taught me I was deserving of love. The three of us could have been great. We were on the cusp of something difficult but great. We could have had it all.

But the Ringleaders fucking ruined everything.

They stole everything. My life. My friends. My lovers. My morals. My future. My talents, home, and soul.

Sunshine didn't deserve this. But at least we would be together once again.

People didn't understand our friendship. It was love at its core. It was a partnership unlike anything else. I would do anything for her. I left five years ago for her. I left for all of them.

And it didn't do a fucking damn thing. They still died. They still suffered.

I continued to drive. The night sky watched me scream and curse and sob. The road became blurred with my tears. Time felt like a pendulum—sporadic and sparse. My voice sounded tormented. I didn't even know my throat was capable of making such demonic sounds.

It wasn't until I noticed a truck following me that I pulled over. They were too close to be a civilian. The armored windows and bulletproof tires felt out of place. I got out of the car and put my hands up.

The headlights from my stolen Nissan provided the only light as a hooded figure got out of the truck and stalked over to me, gun raised and trained on me. "Nix Bailey?" he called, his accent American, his tone deep and sinister.

"The Ringleaders send their highest regards, eh?" I asked maniacally, my voice broken. I tilted my head up to the night sky. No sunshine, only the moon. Seemed fitting I would die without her namesake staring at me.

"Get on your knees," the voice said. I looked at my killer. He was tall with broad shoulders. Dark denim hung low on his hips, and the hoodie he wore kept his face in shadows. I obeyed. I had no fight left in me.

He started digging in his pockets while pulling the safety back on his gun. I watched in resignation as he pulled out a cell phone and aimed the camera at me. "My employers want proof of death, and I'm not in the mood to ride around with a body in the back of my truck."

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