Page 72 of Edge of Control

“Luke, what do I do? What can I do?”

He answered me with more purrs.

My options were slim and lessening by the minute.

I could take a train to Brooklyn and show up at Marielle’s right now. Would my father be there? Would I be able to handle seeing him?

Or I could go to Jace’s instead. I could confess, cleanse my soul. He’d turn me in. I was sure of it, even though I desperately wanted him to do the opposite. But how would he ever be able to understand my actions? I couldn’t expect him to. Couldn’t expect anyone to. From the outside, I appeared crazy. I was a lunatic. But from the inside, I could see all my actions were justified. I dealt vengeance in a world that didn’t protect the innocent, only the rich, the connected, the ones who deserved protection the least. I evened the scales. Did it for my sister, for everyone who suffered at the hands of Pressure Point.

Yet… was it my place to deliver any kind of punishment?

Of course it is.

If I didn’t do it, then who would?

But Jace… he’s going to figure it out. And if he does…

I’d want it coming from me. I’d already bared nearly my entire soul to this man. He pulled out parts of me that I was never expecting to share. Our connection had grown exponentially since that first night at Chained. He’d driven me to the brink of passion, taken me to new heights, made me fall in love, for fuck’s sake. He fixed me. Pieced together the broken parts of me with his kind heart, his generous spirit, his overflowing sexuality.

If there was anyone who deserved the truth, it was him.

No matter the consequences.

The decision became clear. It solidified inside me like freshly poured cement, hardening around my ribs, my lungs. I kissed the top of Luke’s head.

“I love you, buddy.” I found myself crying. “Thank youfor everything.” He looked at me with big green eyes that had no idea I was potentially saying goodbye to him for the last time. I picked him up and held him against my chest. The sun began to break across the sky, painting the greens of the park in a soft purplish-blue, light reflected off the skyscrapers surrounding it. More tears escaped. I held Luke tighter. How’d I get here? How’d I been so unlucky at my hand in life? I thought I’d be able to make it out alive—whole, happy—but I was a fool. My tragedy had already been written in the stars. There was no way to change this ending.

Nothing I could do but submit.

I gently placed Luke back on the ground. I went inside, grabbed a piece of paper, and hastily jotted down a note for Billie, explaining that I was going away on a last-minute trip and needed him to care for Luke while I was gone. I folded the note around a spare key. I put my shoes on, closed the balcony, filled Luke’s food and water, and left before I could second-guess this.

Every step toward the subway station felt like walking across burning hot coals. The sounds of the city were extra loud. It was as if everyone around me was yelling, their voices and their laughter amplified as if they were using megaphones, rubbing their normal lives and bright futures in my face.

But I had made this bed, and now I had to lie in it.

The train rattled across the track. The wind rushed in through the slightly open windows. It sounded like a monster waking up from the depths of hell. I squeezed my hands, feeling my bones protest. The pain was nice. It wasreal. Not like the anxiety and panic that tried to regain its grip on my throat.

The closer I got to Jace’s stop, the more calm I began to feel.

The train came to a screeching halt. I walked out with the flow of people, getting lost in the crowd of men wearing suits and holding briefcases and women in pencil skirts and tourists in joggers and kids in uniforms. I passed a busker singing an Adele song, her voice bouncing off the tiled walls of the subway station, her guitar case full of dollar bills.

Beautiful voice. Angelic, almost.

Fitting, considering I was walking toward my own funeral.

I climbed the stairs up out of the station, down the street, making a left, another left, a right. There was Jace’s building. Maybe I should have called him. Maybe I should have just kept walking.

I went into the building. To the elevator. It took forever to reach the ground floor. I started feeling anxious again, tried not to let that scare me.

The elevator brought me up to his floor. I stepped out into the narrow hallway. A water stain darkened the ceiling. The carpet also could have used a deep clean. Someone fried bacon inside their apartment, the greasy smell drifting out into the cramped space. I stopped outside of his door.

No noises came from inside. I willed my hand to raise, to close into a fist, to knock hard on the door.

Noone answered.

I knocked again.

Nothing.

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