Page 164 of Buried in Blood
Only one of them survives.
46
Harmony
I don’t run far.
Not because I’m stupid. Not because I want to get caught.
Because I’m not done yet.
My boots crunch against the gravel shoulder of some nameless road, the motel’s glow long gone behind me, swallowed by trees and time. The gun is still in my hand—still warm. My fingers won’t unclench.
I shot him.
Ishothim.
I should’ve finished the job.
The cold cuts through my jacket like needles, but I don’t stop moving. One hand clutches my duffel. The other grips the gun like a lifeline. My heart won’t slow down. It’s pounding a rhythm I don’t recognize—fear, rage, freedom. Maybe all three.
The highway is empty. Just the way I like it. The sky above is blacker than sin, with no stars to watch me unravel. I keep close to the tree line, ducking between shadows, always listening for tires on gravel or the low growl of Damien’s laugh echoing through the dark.
But there’s nothing.
Not yet.
Ipass a faded road sign:Grand Junction — 3 miles.
I could hitchhike. Steal a car. Find a train and vanish.
But I don’t.
Because I need to see them again.
Evelyn.
Astra.
Reese—No.
Not him.
Not now.
My legs burn, lungs raw with cold air and adrenaline. But I don’t slow. I can’t. Not until I’m somewhere safe. Somewherefamiliar. Somewhere with light.
It’s not about safety. Not really.
It’s about proof.
Proof I still exist outside of him. That I’m not just his branded toy. His ghost. His weapon.
I reach the edge of town just before sunrise. The streetlights here flicker, fighting against the coming dawn. A bakery opens on the corner. A kid on a bike flies past me without looking.
And still, I walk like I belong. Hood up. Eyes down.
There’s a library two blocks over. A coffee shop around the corner. And just beyond that, the neighborhood where Evelyn used to live. Where Astra crashed on her couch the winter after everything with Lucien went to hell.
