Page 36 of Wraith

Chapter Thirty-Four

The road is blurredin front of me. The double lines fading together into one as I drive down the highway to the one destination I didn’t want to make. I killedher.

She is fuckingdead!

No! She can’t be. The damn pill is just taking a while longer to wear off. The pill I had Doyle get for me, the one that was supposed to look as if it might be some form of birth control— if Roman questioned— but was actually a pill that would slow the heart rate enough to make a person think one was dead.And she fucking was.Choking her had been part of the plan, to make Roman think I had lost my temper with her, and he bought it. I knew he had to have cameras in my apartment, and was more than likely watching the whole thing. So I made it look real. Too fucking real.She was dead!Jesus, I killed her while trying to saveher.

Scrubbing at my jaw, I take the long dirt road that leads to the one place I picked out in case things went south, and they fucking had. Putting the truck in park, I pause behind the wheel wondering if I could have squeezed too much. I had to leave bruises but I didn’t think I did enough to block off oxygen for too long.Shit.I slam my hand down onto the wheel and shove myself from the truck, eager to get to the back.Maybe she woke up along the ride.My stomach sinks when I get there and find her still rolled in the tarp, unmoving. Not even a shadow breath.I fucking killedher.

I shake it off. Taking the makeshift body bag from the truck bed I cradle her in my arms, close to my chest. I failed her. I tried to get her out of the pit of hell and only sent her to the underworld. At least she was no longer under Roman’s sick game, under the one I had to play with her on his behalf.Fuck.Placing her down onto the cold ground, I unwrap the tarp from around her face and feel under her nose. Nothing. No shallow breaths. No pulse. Not a fucking thing. She isdead.

I sit there, kicking myself for being so stupid. What if Doyle had lied and this was all a set up. He promised to keep the request from Roman but could I really trust that? I didn’t even kill the man whom he thought I had. Neither one of us were true to our word. “I failed you, Lara. I’m so fucking sorry,” I tell her pale unmoving face. The tint of her lips slightly blue and skin now cold and clammy.I really fucking did killher.

Defeated, I resign myself to getting her grave dug. Wanting her found, I don’t dig too deep. Maybe she will be found and her family could be put at ease, maybe she will miraculously wake and leave this place. Be happy in life. The last thought makes me sick because I know it won’t happen. She is gone and it’s myfault.

The shovel sinks into the ground only an inch, the dirt is cold and unmoving. It takes me hours to get the shallow grave dug out. When I place her in I make sure to cover her face with the tarp, not wanting dirt to mar or taint her beautifulface.

A last whispered ‘I’m sorry’ and I’m back in the truck driving to the compound. The thought of leaving now that I have no leverage to keep me tethered to Roman sinks in, but I push it away. Right then and there I decide that all of it needs to crumble. Roman and his empire. It will all come to an end. One way or a-fucking-nother.

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