Page 180 of Stand: Part One
And between those jagged cracks, fury seeped through to glue them back together.
Matt had done this. This was his fault. I’d stupidly assumed he was going to be a part of that fight, but he had only used it as another play to separate Darren from Daniel, giving him the chance to attack without Darren’s interference. And still, he fucking failed.
Jackass.
But it wasn’t without casualties. While Daniel had survived, a bullet had grazed his skull deep enough to cause brain damage. What kind, we didn’t yet know, but it would eventually manifest once he woke up from surgery. For all we knew, he could be a completely different person. Maybe he’d finally grow a fucking conscience.
Thankfully, by some miracle, Ella had made it out unscathed. Her nannies had all been killed in the attack, so she was currently being cared for by Darren’s staff until a new nanny could be secured. But she didn’t know where her mommy and daddy were and had been asking for them.
I felt like such an idiot. Matt had even warned me that trust didn’t exist in this world, yet I chose to work with him anyway. And what did it accomplish? What did I get out of it? Absolutely nothing.
In fact, Darren was actually stronger for it now that Miguel was officially out of the picture. And I had put myself in an even worse position when I’d gotten caught ignoring Darren’s orders to run so I could ensure my own escape like a goddamn moron.
What a colossal fucking disaster that had been.
And now I was going to pay for it. I could feel that sinister dark cloud hovering just beyond the horizon, slowly creeping toward me so it could rain down a storm of hellfire.
Just another Tuesday.
I didn’t know why I continued to allow myself to hope, but some part of me still stupidly clung to the idea of freedom. Of living my life without every bit of it being controlled by a sadistic bloodthirsty psychopath who fed off my tears and screams.
His oppression was a weight that was getting harder and harder to carry, my entire body so close to caving in just to relieve some of the pressure. But if I did that, I feared I’d be stuck under his thumb so tightly I’d never be able to move again.
I’d never been more grateful to have the entire bed to myself last night after I’d been dropped off at the estate. By the time the sun rose this morning, my pillows were soaked with hours-worth of tears.
I’d long ago accepted that crying was therapeutic now. A necessity. A form of survival and self-soothing. Keeping my feelings pent up was just a disaster waiting to happen. I needed to expel them as soon as I possibly could.
Between my crushed hopes of escape and wondering what had gone wrong, I had been fearing the worst—that the reason I hadn’t found Jason was because he’d already been killed in the fight. I just hadn’t come across his body yet. And neither had Darren.
For all I knew, Jason could have been buried under all that debris, and I would never have known. He could have perished in an explosion that would have decimated his body beyond recognition.
Would Darren’s men even know his body if they found it? Would his body even be recognizable? Would they even care to check the dead left behind? And if they didn’t look, then there was no way in hell Darren would ever find out that Jason had been involved, and neither one of us would ever know if he was still alive or not.
And not knowing was absolutely killing me inside.
I had no idea what to do now. I felt lost. Everything just seemed so goddamn hopeless, and I felt fucking useless being trapped in this house again. I’d have to figure something out—find some way to cause chaos on the inside. Maybe keep Darren distracted somehow.
But given what I knew was coming my way, I had no idea what kind of stamina I’d have afterward.
Fuck, my body shook just thinking about it.
“Jaden? What are you still doing here?”
Turning my head, I looked back to see Sid standing near the doorway with a concerned expression on his face. When I confirmed he was alone, I turned back around.
“Someone should be here with her when she wakes up,” I answered.
“That’s sweet of you,” he replied, stepping farther into the room, stopping in front of Katherine’s bed. “She’ll be alright though. It’s Daniel I’m worried about.”
I almost scoffed. Fuck Daniel.
“How is he?” I asked, feigning concern to mask my morbid curiosity.
Sid exhaled deeply like he was exhausted. “Incredibly lucky,” Sid replied. “The bullet grazed the frontal lobe, so he won’t lose any major bodily functions.” Sid paused like he wanted to say more but chose to ponder it instead.
“I sense there’s a but somewhere in there.” My eyes rolled up to meet his gaze, his chin tucked in his hand as he stared down at Katherine.
“I have no idea what kind of person he’ll be when he wakes up,” he mused with a sigh. “The frontal lobe is responsible for cognitive function. Our emotions, decision-making, self-control, and behavior are all controlled by the frontal lobe. And a small piece of it is now missing. The consequences of that could be devastating for a man like him.”
