Page 12 of Fire Bound

Life was never this hard. The fighting is starting to become exhausting. The light at the end of the very dark tunnel is nowhere to be seen yet. With each person we eliminate, there’s another one standing between us and Sterling. How he brainwashed so many people to follow him like some kind of fucked-up god, I’ll never understand.

He’s just another power-hungry male, desperate for control. There isn’t a line Sterling won’t cross to achieve his goals. His limits are nonexistent, as are his morals. No one with a conscience would kidnap women and forcibly impregnate them with modified embryos in an attempt to build the perfect genetic creation.

Sterling thought he’d created the perfect beings with Jax and Isabeau, but his perfect masterpieces turned on him.Big time. No one wants Sterling dead more than those two. Except maybe me. I want him dead so I can get my fucking life back.

When Beau slows the car down, I pull my mind away from the dark thoughts that consume me when I think of Sterling. Confused, I look out the window to see where we are and when I see the familiar wrought iron gate, my stomach sinks.

“I didn’t know if you wanted to go home or back to the hotel,” Beau comments from the driver’s seat.

Behind those gates sits the home I was raised in. Up until a month ago, I still lived there. At twenty-two, almost twenty-three, I should have been dying to move out, but I wasn’t in a rush. I was going to finish school and then figure out what I wanted to do.

A month ago, I couldn’t get away from the house fast enough. I had to get away from it before it truly made me lose my mind. I would lay there at night and think about how different it all was and how nothing is ever going to be the same. I couldn’t breathe there. The memories were suffocating me. The concerned looks from my parents were appreciated at first but grew irritating with time. The constant hovering and questions made me want to punch something.

I’d finally had enough and I left.

Without warning and without a word, I packed a bag and left. Went to the hotel and haven’t been back since. All I offered my mother and family was a text telling them I was fine. That’sallI could offer them.

I do miss the liveliness of the house. People are always there. My mom loves to entertain and insists on having all the events at her house. Pack members are frequently stopping by to talk to my dad, the now retired alpha of over fifteen years. The hotel is quiet and still, but I think that’s what I need right now.

“No,” I finally answer, tearing my eyes away from the gates that would lead me home. “I’m not ready to go home.”

Beau nods once, her face unreadable. “Okay,” she relents. “That’s fine. Just let me know when you are.”

Isabeau isn’t someone I’ve ever felt close to. She’s standoffish, hard to bond with, unlike Winslow, but right now I’m really thankful she’s the one here. She won’t push me like the rest of them. “Thank you, Beau.”

We drive away from the gates. She doesn’t say a word as she drives down the road that cuts through our small town. Not until we are two miles away from the hotel does she glance in my direction. “I’m not sure there’s a right or wrong way to mourn. The concept is foreign to me and truthfully, it doesn’t make complete sense to me, but I do know that at some point you have to let go. Or it’s going to drag you down with it.”I already know this.“If this is what you want, I’ll be on your side and support your decision. Your family will fight it, but I’m not going to tell you what you can or can’t do. You’re an adult and you can make your own choices.”

I shift uneasily in my seat, not sure how I’m supposed to respond to that. She’s giving me what I want, but why does it still feel wrong?

“You just have to decide if this is really the path you want to go down. Take it from someone who chose the wrong path and had to fight like hell to get off of it, you should really think about what you’re doing, Remington. Sometimes there’s no going back. Some choices have lasting consequences we can’t undo no matter how much we want to.” Beau’s past is covered in the blood of her victims. Ransom is the only one who truly knows what all Beau’s done, but I know it’s not a pretty sight.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I admit with a sigh while leaning my head against the window. “Everything I do feels wrong.” The guilt isn’t allowing me to move forward. It’s like quicksand. Each movement I make only sucks me farther into it and seeing Jax today made me sink deeper. I’m barely keeping my head above the surface.He makes me feel all the emotions I’ve triedtoohard to repress.

Beau pulls into the parking lot of the hotel and parks the car in a spot close to the entrance. Turning her head, she tells me, “I’m not going to sit here and tell you that I relate to what you’re going through. I’ve never had to grieve someone like you have. When my brother and Nessa died, I only felt relief. I know how that sounds—”

Horrible? Reprehensible? Shameful? Take your fucking pick.

I can’t help the laugh that escapes me as I listen to her. I lose myself in the hysterics, laughing until I can’t breathe. My hand awkwardly undoes the seat belt across my chest so I can double over and laugh even harder. It’s not funny, no part of this is funny and that’s why as I laugh, sad tears run down my face.

“Remington.” It takes a lot to rattle Beau, but right now as she watches me lose my fucking mind, there’s concern in her voice.

I make the mistake of looking at her and the look of worry marring her usually impassive face only makes it worse. I laugh until they turn into choked sobs. I haven’t cried in months. “It’s not funny,” I gasp while I try to steady my breathing so I can calm myself down. “I know it’s not funny...” My hands wipe away the tears streaming down my face. “But it is.” I snort another unwelcome laugh. Angry with my sudden outburst, I slam my hand against the dashboard in frustration, before throwing myself back in my seat dejectedly. “Fuck!” My hands clutch my head, my fingernails digging painfully into my scalp.

“I don’t understand what’s happening.”

You and I both.

Wiping my tears away, I clear my throat. “Yeah, I’ve been saying that a lot myself lately.” Grabbing my hotel key card from the cup holder, I reach for the door handle. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Remi.” Isabeau reaches out and grabs my arm before I can leave.

Looking over my shoulder at her, I say, “I never thought I’d have something in common with you, but here I am.”

“You’re being annoyingly vague.”

With a sad smile, I admit, “You’re not the only one who felt relief.” With that, I tear my arm from her and escape from her vehicle. I can’t breathe until the doors of the hotel lobby close behind me.

The building that once stood here has been resigned to nothing but charred rubble. What’s left of it is almost unrecognizable, but I know what the burned establishment used to be. Nicolai used to bring me here.

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