Page 136 of Sins of the Hidden

My delivery bag hung empty at my side as I fumbled with my apartment keys. My legs ached from climbing four flights of stairs to Mrs. Henderson's apartment. The elderly woman's delight at receiving her weekly raspberry tarts was the only bright spot in days that stretched endless and gray.

I hadn't left the apartment in days before today, not wanting to face anyone. The bruises around my throat had finally faded to pale yellow shadows, barely visible unless you knew where to look. The cut on my shoulder had healed to a thin pink line beneath my sleeves. Nyla and Joslyn had tried calling, but I refused to answer. Knowing them, they'd get Faith and Victoria to come drag me out and demand answers without V around, but I knew I had to talk to them again soon.

The lock clicked open, and I pushed the door with my shoulder, eager to collapse in bed and pretend the outside world didn't exist.

I stopped cold in the doorway. My fingers clenched the keys so hard they cut into skin, sharp points grounding me as the dark object took shape. Not furniture. Not a shadow. A body—huge, motionless—stretched across my living room floor like a crime scene.

V.

The delivery bag slipped from my grip, hitting the floor with a dull thud. My chest constricted, ribs squeezing inward like a fist. No air. The keys clattered from my numb fingers, metal striking hardwood in sharp bursts that made me flinch.

He was on his back, one arm flung across his chest, the other stretched out beside him. His mask shifted slightly, revealing just a glimpse of his jaw. Beside him, a small pill bottle lay open, tablets scattered across the hardwood like tiny white bones.

His bat rested a few feet away, alongside a knife.

My throat closed. Oh God. Oh God. My knees wobbled, threatening to dump me onto the floor beside him. The walls seemed to breathe, pressing closer with each frantic heartbeat. I gripped the doorframe, knuckles white, fighting the urge to run.

Forcing my legs to move felt like walking through concrete. Each step toward him sent fresh waves of nausea rolling through my gut.

"V-V?" My voice quivered like a broken string. What was he thinking? What if he was—no.Don't think it.

His eyes opened slowly, pupils already dilated. The single overhead light cast harsh shadows across his face, carving valleys where there should be expressions. He struggled to sit up, pushing himself up on his elbows. "You didn't..." he paused, words coming slower than usual, "...choose me."

The room seemed to tilt beneath my feet. My hands shook so violently I had to clasp them together to stop the tremor. "What?"

"I understand." The words slurred slightly at the edges, his usual crisp diction already compromised. His arms trembled with the effort of holding himself upright.

"Understand what?" My voice cracked on the question, climbing higher with each word. "V, I don't know what you're trying to?—"

"You want... out." Each word required visible effort. His elbows finally gave out and he collapsed back to the floor. "Here's your out."

My stomach dropped, bile rising sharp and fast. My gaze darted to the knife and bat, then back to his masked face. The metal seemed to glow under the harsh light, edges too sharp, too real. "You mean..." My voice came out as barely a whisper. "You want me to..."

He said nothing. Just waited, blinking slowly like even that took concentration.

"This is insane." The words burst from me, high and panicked. I wrapped my arms around myself. My whole body shook now, uncontrollable tremors that made my teeth chatter. "You're asking me to—I can't—I could never?—"

The trap closed around me, crushing my lungs. If I took the bat, if I hurt him, I'd become something I'd sworn never to be. If I refused, what did that mean? That I was choosing this? Choosing him?

There was no right answer. No clean escape. Just the slow suffocation of options collapsing around me.

My chest heaved, each breath a struggle against the panic clawing up my throat. The apartment felt smaller, walls pressing in from all sides. I backed against the counter, needing something solid behind me, something to stop the world from spinning.

"I'm not..." V struggled with the words, trying again to prop himself up but managing only to lift his head slightly before it fell back. "...normal. No one... taught me."

"I don't want to hurt you!" My voice broke completely, dissolving into something raw and desperate.

"You should." The response came out flat, matter-of-fact, though his voice continued to thicken.

I moved closer on unsteady legs. My pulse drummed in my ears, each beat a warning I ignored because I couldn't process what was happening, couldn't understand how we'd gotten here.

"W-What are these?" I pointed at the scattered pills with a shaking finger, my voice barely audible through the terror.

"Pills." His gaze didn't waver, though his eyelids looked heavier. "One for... the night I..." he paused, struggling to organize his thoughts. "Took your name. One for... choice. One for tonight... so you could..."

The fragmented explanation made my stomach flip. "Y-You drugged yourself?"

"Only drug... works on me." His pupils had expanded further, the powerful sedative working deeper into his system. He blinked once, slowly, like his eyelids weighed too much.

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