Page 12 of Dust to Dust

Was he fucking serious?

Even though the man in front of me was my father, my maker, we shared no fatherly-son bond. I was nothing to him but a mere possession; and a way to further the King's name and empire. Not any more. The day was coming when my father would be put down. I just needed answers to questions that pertained to Nova. I would not risk Nova again. Anton was one of those hidden secrets. I needed to know what Anton and my father had in motion and how Nova was involved before I killed the two of them.

"Now is not the time." My father stressed.

Damian stepped up to my shoulder; we presented a united front together. Nova's body shifted in my hold, causing my eyes to check her. Her breathing slowed even further. My father was right, now wasn't the time. I needed to get Nova to a doctor. I didn't know what Anton had cut her with.

During the weeks I found out Nova was Elsa, I wondered if Nova genuinely wanted me to find out who she was pretending to be? Sure her body had changed, her soul, heart, and mind too. Her hair was now black, and her smooth skin now had scars and tattoos. Those eyes were eyes you'd never forget. Nova went to such lengths but didn't think to wear contacts? She wanted me to figure out who she was so she couldn't kill me. She came to me as a cry for help. Nova needed me to save her from the pits of hell she had been suffering in. Without a second thought, I'd cast myself into the fires to save her. I needed to get her out of the firing line and into safety.

"I need to speak with Anton. I'll call a meeting with you later." Dad said as he sat back in the desk chair.

Damian tried to speak but my father would not allow it. My father snapped and slammed his fist down. But I wasn't the young boy who was scared of my father anymore. "I said not now!" My father seethed. "I gave you the women you wanted; don't make me regret it. Leave." He warned.

Just then, the elevator down the hall dinged, footsteps sounded, and uncle Elijah joined the show. Damian and I were outnumbered now. It was only Damian and me against my father, uncle Elijah, and Anton.

"Fine," I hissed. Damian held his knife in his hand down by his thigh. Although Damian was vastly different from his father, they shared similar abilities. Like the skill to disappear and reappear like a superhero. Last I knew, uncle Elijah was in Europe. So how the hell did he manage to show up here?

As Elijah's cold eyes scanned the room as he entered. I held Nova closer to my chest as Damian took the lead, acting as my cover as we exited the room. The door to the office closed, and the answers I needed were again sealed off to me.

* * *

Two months ago…

There she is.

My lost love, the girl I killed, and the woman who now has some vendetta against me.

Not that I could blame her. A tornado of questions spun around as they barreled toward me. The winds scooped me up and shook me to my core.

The stalked had become the stalker.

Thirty yards away from the coffee shop Nova was sitting in, I was perfectly hidden behind a tree, pretending to be on my phone, but I used the camera and zoomed in to watch Nova. I had all my bases covered now. Sitting inside the coffee shop was Ben, one of my men. Ben was seated with his laptop at a table across from Nova and her date.Oh, babygirl, I can’t wait to get my hands on you now.

With the aid of Ben, I had full audio and could hear everything single line Nova was telling the soon-to-be dead man she flirted with. If the guy could shut the hell up and stop talking about himself, he’d noticed how uninterested Nova truly was. She nodded and agreed, pretending to be into the conversation, but her eyes scanned the area and continued to watch the door.

What did you go through, babygirl? How did you become so lethal?

Nova continuously scanned her surroundings, making mental notes of all the exits. She kept her back to the wall and had a full view of who came and went. Once in a while, Nova pretended to itch her ankle, but that was a nervous tick. What she was doing was touching the knife she kept tucked into her boots. None of her dominant traits had been inherited; they were learned, which was more worrisome. I knew the horrors of my past, nightmares embedded into my mind that allowed me to become the lethal man I was today. That meant that Nova had been through similar training. She must have been broken down, abused, and manipulated into a monster.

No longer able to watch her talk to another man I stalked forward. The lion has spotted its prey. Nova could run, and she could hide; but now that I knew Elsa was alive and somewhere buried deep within Nova, I’d stop at nothing to have her. Nova might be a monster, but she was crafted from the same foundation Elsa was made of, which meant the girl I loved was still there, buried between the cracks. I’d continue to let Nova play her little game, but along the game, I would break Nova, and when she crumbled, I would dive into the depths and extract the girl that first captured my soul.

I’m coming for you, Elsa.

Chapter 11

There was a chill in the air and staleness in the room, which told me the room was not used often. I had woken up alone, but I knew where I was. Back at Titan's campus mansion. My cage. The cream colored walls that held me in were the exact shade of cream that would make a person go insane after a few hours of staring at them.

We're already off our rocker Nova, so those cream walls don't affect us.Ghost joked.

I laughed out loud because who the fuck cared if I talked to the dead girl inside of my head? My plans had been figured out, and dissolved. Was this what I wanted after all? Did I always want Titan to figure it out? No, Nova had a plan. I had a plan. Or was Ghost in control from the very beginning, was this game her idea of showing me that in the end, I always needed Titan in my life?

We will never know,Ghost responded. Her voice held an upturned note at the end. She knew all the answers; at least, she thought she did.

I continued to rock back and forth on the bed to soothe myself. Without my flavored lipgloss or combat boots to organize, rocking was the only thing I could think of. Elsa used to rock herself to sleep back in prison, so if it worked for her, then it should work for me, right?

After another hour passed, I released my arms from around my knees. The inside of my arms was wrinkled and red from my firm grip. A tingled sensation of rushing blood danced down my limbs as I unfolded them straight. When my palms pressed into the bedding, I noted how smooth and delicate the fabric was.

It's much softer here, so unlike the bed in jail.I whispered to Ghost. My hand pushed deeper into the memory foam mattress. A part of me hoped it would swallow me whole so I didn't have to face any truths.

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