Page 120 of Babalon

“I’m Grant Kline, I’m going to be your attorney through this interrogation and moving forward.”

“Sounds good.”

He comes close, but I guess someone filled him in because he didn’t get any nearer than the foot of my bed.

“Do you understand that anything you say, can and will be held against you in a court of law?” Whitlock queries.

“I understand.”

“I will advise whether you should answer questions. Based upon my experience, we may…” Mr. Kline begins.

“Don’t bother, Grant, just have a seat. I’m going to spill everything. There’s no use holding anything back. I’m guilty.”

“Nadia, I don’t think it’s wise to do that.”

“It wouldn’t be wise if I planned on pleading not guilty but I don’t. I survived Darkwater, Bluitt is going to be a cakewalk.”

Seven hours later, we have went through my accounts of everything, every tiny fucking detail. Distribution of a controlled substance within a government facility, arson, and one count of sexual assault of an inmate of the state of Michigan. Those are the charges the state is aiming for, and while I’m not the judge, they may look favorably on me for cooperating.

Hopefully.

“Due to your condition and the inability of the CERT team to get to you, the state is willing to give you time to finish your treatment here at the hospital. You will then be escorted to Darkwater to gather your belongings and turn over all your equipment. Your locker has already been searched, your vehicle towed off the property and confiscated. We ask for your cooperation in searching your apartment after we leave the prison.” Whitlock informs me.

He walks over, standing just a few feet away, thumbs gliding over the screen of the cellphone he brought with him until they stilled, and he held the thing in front of me.

Kace’s warm voice fills the space. My lungs feel like they are going to collapse, my throat tightens as I listen.

“I—I’m sorry. I need you to know that there wasn’t a moment where you were not the center of my whole fucking world. You may have come from a broken family, lost in a way that others may never understand, damaged in the eyes of people you needed, but you must know that you will always be everything to me. My entire night sky. It’s okay, okay to be angry at a world that did you so wrong, to hate the very people who made you who you are, and I will love every broken piece of youwith every whole piece of me. While this isn’t what we planned, know that you will be my choice every time. Your love, your pain, your life over mine.”

I couldn’t stop the tears as they roll fat and hot down my cheeks. My shoulders shaking with the sobs that rack me. How much more will I have to endure before I feel what little is left of me fade away? Kace didn’t sound the same, he had a wheeze that I couldn’t ignore, the added sounds of dripping water a simple backdrop. He sounded tired, in pain, and barely hanging in there, but it was Lucien’s comment at the end that answered the silent question between Whitlock and I.

He’s gone.

Break

Hey love, let’s take a music break. Get our bearings back.

Take a deep breath for me.

<3

Chapter thirty-three

Lucien

“Who’s the girl?!” the officer screams at me, and all I can manage was a laugh. In fact, everything that has transpired gives me a tickle in the ribs as if I were just a boy again and her fingers were skirting over my skin. Skin that used to tighten and pebble in droves of goosebumps.

With my forehead pressed against the floor, the little bit of dry dirt below my lips puffed out as I breathed and continued laughing. I can feel the blood soaking into my jumper, even more so when the officers yank my arms behind my back and cuff them. Then drag me over to the opposite wall where I can see the whole scene before me.

Nadia still restrained to the cell bars, her body lying limp, lines bisecting the globes of her backside, and the spray of Nathan's life force staining her pretty, alabaster skin. What a wretch, but she did so good. I know she is ready for me now, ready to be together—just her and I.

“Someone get a fucking medic in here and get her picked up. Jovi, remove her restraints and check for a pulse. Einar, drag this dead fuck out of the way,” he barked, kicking Nathan, then using his boot to push him away from Nadia.

Can’t they see it? Don’t they know that she’s my alter, the feminine side of this tattered coin?

“Wakey-wakey, Nadia. It’s time to show these people who we truly are,” I cooed, watching her from afar.

I long to touch her.

---