Twelve
The dead eyesof Knight across from me met my own. I shifted uncomfortably but didn’t look away, even though I wanted to.
Ever since he'd been captured and imprisoned with me in Russia, I'd had this never ending guilt every time I looked at or even thought about him.
And he was constantly in my circle, moving in and out of the craziness going on around us, making it impossible to forget. And yet, we were never alone so that I could express my thoughts to him.
Though we didn’t speak much, he was always in the back of my mind, like a loaded gun to my head.
We were on a boat, anchored a few miles off the shore of California, waiting for the signal from Torian. He was going in as bait, with plans to attack the carrier ship with a small team to distract Coulter and Bourbon's attack from the other side.
Bourbon was sitting next to me, dressed in all black and loaded up with weapons, as silent and calm as the dark sky above us. His hand was on my leg, and the only notion that he was nervous was the slight squeeze on my thigh.
I was also nervous but eager. I’d literally had a three hour argument with both Coulter and Bourbon to be able to show up tonight.
They wanted me to stay safe in the apartment.
I needed to be there to see Dimitri take his last breath.
The man had killed my whole family, had taken away my inheritance, and currently had the tip of my finger in his private freezer. Was it wrong to need the satisfaction of watching him die?
I didn't think so, and it was frustrating that Bourbon didn’t understand that. I’d argued that I’d stay close to Bourbon's side, that I would do anything he asked, but still, he’d refused.
Surprisingly, it was Knight who’d spoken up for me.
In the end, it had been Knight’s determination to bring me in on this that had convinced Bourbon and Coulter. Knight had promised he would stay with me the whole time, once again, giving up his freedom for me.
Bourbon had been surprisingly open this past week, and every confession from his lips made me more and more addicted to the god-like creature I worshipped and adored. He was no longer Gothel, the person keeping me hostage against my will, but rather, my King, the capturer of My Heart, and Destroyer of My Soul.
Still my captor because, when it came down to it, he trusted Knight over me.
And that fact, despite everything else he’d done for me, wrecked me.
After everything I’d been through for him, he still wouldn’t let me all the way in.
I was split in two, half of me wanting to rip my heart from my chest and lay it at his feet, while the other part needed to build my walls as high and as thick as they would go to protect myself from him.
And now, as I sat next to the man I loved, Knight and I stared each other down. All the words I wanted to say to him were stuck in my throat.
Why did you come after me? Why did you put yourself at such great risk? For me.
As far as I could tell, he held no great regard for me, and he'd barely said more than a few words to me since we'd returned.
But tonight, he was saying it all, without even moving his mouth. His haunted eyes spoke volumes.
My throat was suddenly full. I had no doubt that what he'd gone through was much worse than mine own imprisonment. I would never be able to repay him for what he'd done for me, but I determined to at least try to do something that would give him some kind of retribution.
“Diesel.” The radio squawked out Bourbon's code name and he straightened, pulling it to his mouth. Only then did Knights' gaze shift from me to Bourbon, alert and prepared.
I didn't understand much of their coded talk but I did understand that Torian was ready to attack.
After Bourbon's confirmation, there was a flash of light arcing across the sky like a diamond glistening into the dark shadow across the sea. The resounding boom told me it had hit it’s target, lighting up the ship for a second, where it had earlier almost been undetectable, except for the absence of light against the sky.
I jerked upwards, my heart suddenly pounding like mad. My fingers tingled with unspent energy, the need for revenge simmering through my blood. My stomach was simultaneously churning with fear. We could all die tonight.
It didn’t take long for our boat to unmoor from the dock. My hair whipped my face as we flew across the ocean. The radio garbled again as they communicated. In the background I could hear the sounds of large, echoing booms, then the pitter patter of responding guns.
Bourbon's hand on my thigh grew tighter and I lowered my hand, clenching it on the gun on my hip.