Page 135 of Hate Me

Caleb butted out his smoke, then walked into the apartment, looking between me leaning against the wall and Jett’s fallen form. “Done taking it in?” he asked hopefully, and a little worriedly.

I pushed off the wall and walked to him. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

He wrapped his arms tightly around me. “Let’s get out of here, wait outside for the cleanup crews to do their thing.”

“Thank you,” I murmured against his chest as he led us out of the awful place.

“Anytime, darling. We’ve got you. We’ve always got you. It’s over now.”

His words sank in, hitting me deeply.

Oh my God.

It was. It really was.

I couldn’t believe it.

Jett Bane was finally gone.

It was finally fucking over.

I was free.

27

~Sebastian~

It was kind of morbid.

All right, majorly morbid.

Celebrating somebody’s death.

And not in a post-funeral way with a wake or anything along those lines where you celebrated their life and everything.

No, it would’ve been a full-on celebration of somebody dying.

I understood where Caleb had been coming from when he’d suggested it, but fortunately, he’d taken my advice to heart and let go of that initial idea. Plus, he’d thought of it on the way home from their op when he’d still been on one of his bloodlusting highs. Despite him being in control now when unleashing all of that, it was still a part of him and it always would be. At least now it wasn’t taking him over and he could live with it and keep it just to those sorts of operations that only happened once in a while. It didn’t impact other areas of his life now. Or worse, take it over completely.

He still needed it, though. That much had been made clear when Cas and I had listened in as we’d been in contact with him and Sky over COMMs during their mission. I knew it meant Cas would likely start up The Jackals again once his war with Elijah Bane was over and done with and he’d had time to decompress and take a proper break that he so desperately needed.

So long as Caleb could maintain that level of control like he’d exhibited tonight—and Sky had too—I was all for doing that. It provided a good outlet and, most of all, I really liked delivering justice and doing something to help the city like getting twisted shits off the streets.

Anyhow, instead of pretty much dancing on Jett’s proverbial grave, we were celebrating the fact that the brutal final chapter of that aspect of Skylar’s past was finally done with.

Without it weighing her down, she could now fully and properly look to the future.

With her hopes and dreams.

Her career.

Us.

I walked back to the den after taking a quick trip to the bathroom following downing way too many of the special cocktails Caleb had made. All sans alcohol, of course.

I’d told them that I was fine with them drinking, that it didn’t tempt me to do the same. Not at all at this stage of my recovery, actually. But none of them would have it, or even hear of it. It was heartfelt and sweet that they were being so considerate, especially when a celebration was at hand. But soon they’d have to move past that and operate normally, allowing me to accommodate to them indulging in a drink here and there while I was around. It was actually part of the process for me. Soon I would need exceptions not to be made around me, for things to go on as normal for the rest of them.

Well, what passed for normal with the four of us.

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