ZADE
I’m angry.
So fucking pissed. I could feel the blood roaring in my veins, my pulse pounding so hard that even riding—the one thing that usually calmed me down hadn’t done shit.
Anastasia held me tightly from behind, and even though I knew it was because of the speed, I could tell there was more to it. She was holding onto me like I was her lifeline.
Despite this, I was seconds away from being buried by my own rage, but I needed to stay calm.
The cigar didn’t help; numbing my mind didn’t fucking help, and I was seething seeing Anastasia so torn apart.
When I caught her breakdown in that study, I had never felt so fucking scared. And when she sobbed her heart out in my arms, my raging eyes were on the name scribbled on the wall.
"W-When I saw the wall, I-I heard voices," Anastasia began in a whisper. "I heard the laughter of two little girls."
I felt her shiver under my hold before she used the back of her hand to wipe her tears.
"Annabeth and I."
"When you were kids?" I asked, already sensing where this was going.
She nodded. "A memory from years ago."
"What happened when you were little?"
"N-Nothing bad. We used to play around with the endings of our names. I called her Beth, and she called me—"
"Stasia," I finished for her, and she nodded once more.
Fuck.
I was hoping it wouldn’t be what I thought it was. But everything clearly pointed to this.
Someone did this. Someone was fucking with my little kitten’s head, and that name on the wall was what finally cracked her.
"I-It had to be Annabeth. She did this. She killed Father."
"No," I replied flatly. "It wasn’t."
There was a criticizing look in her before they grew angry in milliseconds. "Yes, it was. She called me Stasia when we were little. The only person who could have known that name was her."
"Ana—"
"She fled the manor undetected. She knows the ins and outs of that manor just like I do."
"..."
She exploded, her anger fueled by the fact that I didn’t believe her. "How else could you explain what’s happening? C-Can’t you see it’s been her all along? She had Shane in her pocket, and she must have used him to get to me through Clara. She wants to destroy me as much as she wanna destroy you!"
I flicked the half-smoked cigar and pushed to my feet. Her chin tilted, eyes burning into mine with anticipation and hope that I may believe her.
But there was nothing to believe. Annabeth’s corpse still burned in my mind like a fresh memory.
"It wasn’t her," I affirmed.
She took a step back like I had slapped her on the face. "You don’t believe me?"
Her trembling voice crushed me, but I replied anyway.
"I want to, but I can’t. Not like this."
"Y-You think I’m crazy, is that it?"
My jaw clenched. "That’s the last thing on my mind, kitten."
"You wanted me to talk to you, right? I did, yet you don’t believe me when I say Annabeth’s alive!"
"She’s not alive, Anastasia. The sooner you accept that, the better."
"Why? Because you’re her murderer?"
"Yes."
"H-How do you explain the name on the wall, then? Who else could have known that name? Not even Jacob does."
"This is the wrong time to bring up that name."
She shook her head, defiance striking her gaze.
"This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t kept digging into the past. That was the reason you went to see your father, wasn’t it? Whatever reason could there be? I’m all ears."
She ground her teeth before forcing herself to speak. "I lost a part of myself, Zade. Do you expect me to just move on like that?"
"Yes."
Disbelief crossed her gaze. "What’s so wrong about me trying to remember?"
"Everything!" I exploded.
Anastasia froze. I let it slip... my anger... and it was too late to take that back.
"She’s never coming back. Whoever did this, I’m gonna find them. You understand me?"
"Who said I wanted her back?" She seethed at me. "She tried to kill me, didn’t she? Why would I want her back?"
She said that, but I could see right through it. She was torn, caught between what she wanted to believe and what she feared was true.
"Time to go home." I grabbed the helmet, but right from the corner of my eye I caught her walking away.
"Anastasia..."
When she didn’t answer me, I dropped the helmet, and it took just three steps before I could grab her arm and force her to face me.
"You should believe me!" she yelled. "Because if no one does, then who will? I know what I saw, Zade. I know what I saw. Just tell me I’m not crazy."
I pulled her into my arms, and even though she fought to push me away, I didn’t let her go.
"I-I-I-I can feel it, Zade." She sobbed uncontrollably. "S-She’s out there."
The thunder boomed, and I looked up. The sky had darkened, thick clouds emerging.
"No, she’s not."
"I-I wanna ask her why... Why did she try to kill me? W-Why would she do something like that?" She clenched my shirt tightly.
"The dead can’t answer that."
She pulled away from me. "Then give me an answer."
God, seeing her like this was killing me in a way I didn’t know was possible. It took me right back to that moment when I’d watched her from afar.
On the surface, I acted normal. My usual self. The version of me I wanted everyone else to see.
I never let anyone know what I was really feeling. It was how I coped when I had too much shit to handle. I focused on everyone else, so I wouldn’t have to focus on myself.
"I wish I had the answer."
I wish I could give them to you.
~☆~
I killed the engine, and Anastasia climbed off the bike, dropped the helmet, and walked away.
All my instincts kicked in to go after her, but I didn’t move.
When I felt the raindrops hit my skin, I rode into the garage and parked my bike before exiting the space.
As I walked down the hallway, the rain poured outside, thunder booming as the window rattled against the wind.
I made a turn toward the next hallway leading to my office and found Elliot pacing.
At the sight of me, he halted, burying his hands in his pockets. "I heard about Ana’s father. Is she okay?"
"I don’t know." I pushed the door open and walked into my office.
"What do you mean you don’t know?"
"I don’t know how to tell you this, little brother, but when you marry, you’ll understand what I’m saying..." I leaned against the table and folded my arms. "I need you to look into the killer."
"What exactly am I looking for? The cops are all over it already."
"I don’t need the cops to find them. We have to find them. The bastard who thinks he can mentally torture my wife and get away with it."
Elliot narrowed his eyes. "I’m sensing there’s more to this."
"Yes, there is!" I snapped.
Elliot blinked, and the disbelief in his eyes was temporary. I was snapping out more than usual, and even I was amazed by how much I did.
So much for keeping my rage in.
"What?" I asked with a chuckle. "Haven’t you seen me angry before?"
"What happened?" Elliot asked stiffly.
"What happened is that Anastasia thinks her sister is still alive and has something to do with Roman’s death."
"But that’s not possible."
"Exactly my thoughts."
But as much as I don’t wanna dive deep, I found myself doing that. I was suddenly on the same boat as Anastasia. Hell, I don’t think she was crazy. I don’t wanna even entertain that fucking thought.
But there was a fact, and the fact was Annabeth was six feet under. Skeletons can’t rise from the grave, this wasn’t some fantasy shit.
"I need you to find out who did this... and when you do, I’ll peel the skin from their bodies." I rounded the table and sat down on the chair. "Suspend everything if you have to. Just focus on finding out the killer."
"Something we both agree on."
He left.
The door closed behind him. I leaned forward in my seat, unlocked the drawer, and pulled it open. Inside was a blue diary with a worn ribbon attached to it.
I took it out and flipped it open. A name was written on the first page.
Anastasia.
This diary came into my possession after Anastasia’s car accident, and it had been with me for the last two years.
Ever since the hunt, when I knew there was a possibility she could remember, I thought about giving this back to her.
But the more things played out, the more I wanted to lock this away forever and throw away the fucking key.