Page 15 of Inevitable Destruction

He knows what they did to my father. How he died. Why he fucking died. And he still chooses to go to the cemetery, sit at their headstone, and fucking mourn them after five goddamn years.

I let out a growl of frustration and pour myself another full glass of whiskey. I toss it back and slam the glass down. My mind swims, along with the room, people, and music around me as I vividly picture Dominik.

I wish I could force him away, but ever since I saw him a few months ago in that small mental health hospital, he’s constantly been at the forefront of my mind—him and how I can make him fucking pay.

Yeah, that’s all I want. Revenge. For my father. And for my pain.

* * *

We step over the threshold into the tiny room of the mental health institution. The nurse who brought us quickly disperses, leaving us alone with Essa Monroe to speak to her. Jamie’s body tenses at the sight of the small girl on the floor, having fainted from what I presume to be a panic attack.

The girl must be terrified of cops if she has that kind of reaction to us.

At the sound of her waking up, Jamie tenses beside me but takes a step forward. The girl’s eyes lock on Jamie, and Jamie gives her a tentative smile. She’s always been good at that—making people feel better. Me on the other hand? I couldn’t give less of a fuck. We came here to give her news about her parent’s deaths, and that’s it. Who gives a fuck about the mental repercussions? That’s her problem.

News flash—people die, even parents. Get the fuck over it.

The boy holding her helps her to her feet, and he wraps his arms around her. Essa leans back, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head before grabbing her hand and bringing it to where his arms are wrapped around her middle. So, he must be her boyfriend.

His eyes are practically glued to the side of her face as he lifts his head. When he manages to tear his eyes away from her, his gaze lands on me in what I presume is meant to be a menacing glare, but I don’t see it.

All I fucking see is a younger, prettier version of Alexander Reed, the man who murdered my father.

I narrow my eyes, taking in every tiny fucking feature from his shaggy, curly black hair and green eyes down to his full lips. He has a slightly upturned nose and sharp jawline covered in a five o’clock shadow. He could be his father’s younger brother from how closely they resemble one another.

I don’t fucking like that. I don’t like it one fucking bit.

Something sour settles in the pit of my stomach, swirling and tightening my gut the longer I keep my eyes on his face, but I can’t make myself look away.

In my peripheral, I see the girl whisper to him, her lips moving the tiniest amount, coming together at the end. Whatever she said was short, but it has his dark green eyes dragging away from mine and back to her.

I release a quiet breath when our connection is broken. Anger floods my veins, and I lock my jaw, grinding my molars together as they speak softly to one another.

No fucking way this is happening right now. I did not just run into who I assume is the Reed’s fucking son, Dominik. Not after all this time. Not after I’ve grieved my father’s untimely death and moved on.

My fingers curl into my palm, and I dig my blunt nails into the soft flesh, literally swallowing my anger down my throat in a ball of white-hot pain.

Jame must sense some sort of tension in the room because she finally speaks to the girl. “Ma’am.”

“Yes?”

“You’re Essa, right? Essa Monroe?”

Who I presume to be Dominik straightens, and I watch his arms tighten around Essa. “Why do you want to know?” He speaks for her, and I fight a snarl, my lip curling at the sound of his deep voice, loud in the small room.

Jamie responds to him, not the least bit perturbed by his venomous tone. “We have some news we have to give her, as long as she gives us confirmation.” She nods in Essa’s direction, and the girl finally fucking speaks for herself.

“Yes, my name is Essa Monroe.”

See, wasn’t that fucking hard, was it, little girl? I’m surprised she knows how to talk at all with Dominik Reed here, speaking for her and fucking protecting her.

“Thank you, Essa,” Jamie replies, calm and matter-of-fact. She’s always better at speaking to people, especially in these types of situations, so I just let her carry on, content keeping my mouth shut and glaring at the man I can’t keep my eyes off of.

“My name is Jamie Knoxx, and I work for the Le Grande police department. There was a murder that happened over in Portland about a month ago that many departments from all around were looking into. There have been no suspects, or even evidence left behind, and was eventually declared accidental. But just yesterday, the bodies were officially identified.

“Their names came back as Benjamin and Sierra Monroe. Their next of kin as Holley and Essa Monroe. We ran the names and hospital records, and while your names didn’t show up, descriptions for you did, and we were hopeful you were who we were searching for.”

Jamie takes a subtle deep breath, and I feel her body release the tiniest amount of tension. She hates telling people these things. It makes her feel… I don’t know. Probably guilty or some shit like that. I wouldn’t know because I don’t really give a shit either way.

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