Inevitable(4)

“You’re so right. I know nothing of love. Nothing about it,” he said taking a couple steps back as he headed for the door. “I can tell you love will only get you so far. If you love her as much as you say you do, you will heal. There is no way Mack would kill her—you and I both know it. He took her for a reason.” Jared’s voice was almost reasoning with me, and I forced myself to continue to stare at the wood grain in the floor.

We were in Jared’s home and everything in it represented him… I’ve said it before, and I’m sure I’ll say it again… he was right. Gritting my teeth, I forced out the words I had never said to anyone. “Thank you… for helping me.” I lifted my face, my eyes landing on a photo on the wall. It was one of him and his mother before she was killed. Just like mine.

He looked similar to her. Dark hair and eyes. Beautiful as ever. It made me wonder how he had even started working for me. He was one of the good ones, and to be caught up in this drama wasn’t fair to him. I owed his family more than that.

“Zerro, get better, get the girl, and be happy. You have nothing to thank me for.” He completely dismissed me and turned around to walk out of the room to leave me be. As much as I thought to be alone was the right thing, I knew it was wrong. Thoughts of Bree came to the surface, and I wondered what she was going through. How much longer could she hold on? Was she still alive? It was those thoughts that reminded me I love her. I would do whatever I could to apologize to her for my actions. I refused to allow her to think the last memories of me were of some evil monster because, though it may be true, I’m also someone else. I’m a lover... and I love her.





“How does your leg feel?” Jared asked as he set a bowl of soup in front of me. It had been a few days since I had started walking around again, and I was just getting used to moving around more and more. My muscles ached, and sometimes I felt like I might collapse, but then I would think of Bree and all she must have been going through.

“It’s fine,” I responded, dipping my spoon into the broth of the chicken noodle soup. It smells delicious and my stomach growled in approval. Though I was hungry, a tinge of guilt burrows itself into my mind, and I dropped the spoon into the bowl. I couldn’t eat not knowing what was happening to her. It didn’t matter what was said, or what had taken place. The way I treated her… There was simply no excuse. I should’ve known better.

“You don’t have to feel guilty about eating,” Jared chimed in. I couldn’t force myself to look at him. I didn’t want him reading my thoughts. I was supposed to be the King, the man who ran everything with an iron fist. Instead, I ran nothing. My empire had crumbled, and everything that meant the most had been stolen from me.

“It’s not guilt,” I lied. I was on the verge of losing my temper again. I was tired of being caged, being told what to do, and how I needed rest. What I needed was Bree. I didn’t care about anything else. I would get my revenge.

“Well, that’s a crock of shit.” He laughed, setting his spoon down on the table. I didn’t know where to go from here. There was nothing I could say to help me. I needed to take action.

“Call it whatever the fuck you want. I don’t care. I needed to figure out a plan, and then I needed to implement it because I would get her back, and I would gut Mack. No one lied to me and got away with it.” Simply admitting he had pulled the wool over my eyes angered me. It made me feel weak in the eyes of my people, and I wasn’t weak.

“Whatever. Do what you need to,” he said, frustrated with me, I was sure. I couldn’t blame him, but I was tired of being caged. I was tired of being told what to do, and to that I needed to rest. My leg was better, my chest no longer hurt, and the pain was a distant memory. All that mattered was Bree. I would blaze a trail of fire across the world to find her. She was mine, and I would make it known to the world.





Bree



“Get up you stupid bitch.” I heard the voice before I could register what was happening. Cold water fell on me, dousing any further movements. I was strong, really strong, but this shit was wearing on me. They kept me in a fucking hole, thrown in here since day one. Every time they came to torment me, they wore masks as if they thought I didn’t know who the fuck they were. I didn’t know who they were, but I knew they worked for Mack. Mack. Just saying his name caused my blood to boil.

I had very little given to me, and I knew there was a purpose behind this. They didn't want me to get comfortable. They didn't want me to feel at home, and I didn't. Food was sent down in small rations, just enough to keep me from starving to death. Crackers, peanut butter sandwiches, and small bottles of water quickly became my only meal throughout the day.