Nightshade

by McAdams, Molly

  A few seconds later, she slowly rounded the corner out of my bathroom, her hips swaying like it was as natural as breathing for her.

  “Beck,” she murmured, lifting a shoulder lazily. “I’ve only ever come to watch him. But sometimes you or Lily or others are with him. During meetings, for example.” Her lips twisted in a wry grin as she settled against the wall. “I’ve been watching people—spying on them—for as long as I can remember. All my mom’s drug dealers. Her boyfriends. My brother.”

  My brow pulled tight at the casual mention of the last person, but I didn’t ask.

  “It’s just what I do. I become nothing. But I hear and see everything.” A grim look passed over her face but was gone within a blink of an eye. “Then when I was fourteen, this young guy, who was built like a tank, came into the game and was able to put real fear into every other drug dealer in the city. It didn’t make sense. Of course, my mom went to him because she thought she could trick him out of more drugs. And trick him, she did. Or, at least, she thought she did.”

  “Beck.”

  A breath of a laugh tumbled from her lips. Her head tilted in confirmation. “Soon after, Momma started getting drugs for free and thought she’d hit the jackpot with Beck. But it was only because I had to pay for what he’d given her. But he kept telling me he’d protect me, that nothing would happen to me. And he said it like he had that power, and I wanted to know how. So, I hid in the back of his car one night and ended up here. Found out more than I ever wanted to about the men behind the bags with skulls and Celtic knots, but I kept coming back. I needed to know everything about the people trying to kill my mom.”

  “She’s killing herself, Jessica.”

  Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Our lives have been ruined because of him. Don’t you dare tell me what is or isn’t happening in my life because of the men in this damn house.”

  I rubbed at my jaw and sighed, knowing there was nothing I could say to change her mind. “And what have you done with what you’ve heard here? What are you going to do?”

  “Keep it for when I need it. Take it to my grave.” She shrugged. “Whatever comes first.” She tapped her head as she pushed away from the wall, grinning softly. “I have a lot of secrets stored here. For example, I was hiding in the room over four years ago when you told Beck everything you and a recently deceased Aric O’Sullivan had been doing with the Borellos to take down a certain Mickey.”

  I stilled, my breathing slowing as my mind automatically went through every way to stop her.

  To stop the threat.

  “And yet,” she continued when she was just inches from me, her raspy voice dropping lower, “that’s the first time those words have left my lips. Probably the last too.”

  “It needs to be the last,” I said on a growl.

  She gave me a look far from reassuring and turned to saunter toward the window. “Good night.”

  My mouth opened to remind her we were on the second floor, but I bit back the warning.

  She’d been getting in and out of this mansion for a decade—she’d already been in and out of my room to hide my wallet. I was sure the balcony was nothing.

  But I couldn’t stop from asking, “How are you getting back to Raleigh?”

  Jessica glanced back at me, an amused look on her face. “I got myself here, didn’t I?” When I only continued to watch her, she sighed. “I have my ways, Nightshade. As you pointed out earlier, I am a whore.”

  I’d never wanted to apologize for something more in my life. I hated that I felt I owed it to her. My hands fisted and my jaw clenched to keep from saying a word.

  Her eyes darted from one to the other, not missing anything, and then slowly met my stare. “Does it bother you when people call you an assassin? No. Because it’s what you are.”

  “It’s what I was raised to be,” I said through clenched teeth. “There’s a difference.”

  Her gaze drifted to the side and got a faraway look. “Sometimes it feels it was inevitable for me too.” Without another word or warning, she disappeared through the window and onto the darkened balcony.

  I followed after her . . . to see how she did it, to watch her, to stop her . . . when suddenly she was there.

  Her hands in my hair, her mouth at my ear.

  My hands automatically went to her waist, gripping the rain-soaked shirt and pulling her closer. My body vibrated, having someone in my arms like this, that monster inside raging and begging for something I refused to feed it.

  “What if it was her? What if it was her who couldn’t be what you needed? Who couldn’t handle what you are. Who ruined the relationship.”

  I went still.

  There was no beast. No ache in my chest. Just the feel of Jessica in my hands as her words echoed in my mind.

  “Because since she left, you’ve changed. I’ve never seen a driven man so lost. But I’ve also never seen you so human. So, what if it was her?” Her lips ghosted across mine, and then she was gone.

  I was born to be Holloway’s assassin.

  I was raised to love and protect Lily O’Sullivan until I died.

  And I had . . . I’d tried.

  I hadn’t understood what went wrong—where everything had shifted.

  I got it now.

  Because being everything Lily needed was my greatest purpose. Those words had been engrained in me from the time my old man handed me my first blade.

  Whenever she needed me, I was there.

  Her wants and needs and dreams. Her enemies. They were all mine.

  Until they weren’t. Until my wants and needs turned into my own.

  That was the moment I lost her.

  No matter how I viewed it, no matter my reasoning . . . it became painfully apparent that Lily was only my purpose when she should’ve been my life.

  I’d thought she was.

  “What if it was her? What if it was her who couldn’t be what you needed? Who couldn’t handle what you are. Who ruined the relationship.”

  Jessica had been wrong . . . and so right. I hated that a girl as infuriating as her could give me clarity on something I’d agonized over for months.

  Lily had never been meant for me. But I could’ve gone my whole life without realizing it if I hadn’t stopped being what she needed.

  “How can anything be for me when I don’t want this, Kieran? You and I never wanted this. But you changed your mind and left me to slowly suffocate in this prison alone.”

  While she might’ve understood me, might’ve loved me in a way that came with knowing my darkness over a lifetime, she still hated what I was.

  “I never wanted Nightshade, Kieran. I wanted you.”

  And the relationship . . . we’d ruined that together. In our own ways.

  “You’ve been saying ‘what about us,’ and this is what you’ve been doing?” Her betrayal burned deep, the knife in my back making it difficult to breathe. I swiped a vase off the end table. “Fucking what about us?”

  “You left me,” she screamed. “You broke my heart and your promises and left me here. There was no us left.”

  I’d thought I was destroyed over losing Lily.

  Now I realized the hardest part of her leaving was because I’d failed my purpose.

  Failed her. Failed us.

  Failed at being what I never should’ve been.

  Hers.

  I was only a street past where Beck always stopped me the next night when I felt eyes on me.

  And there wasn’t a soul on the street with me.

  That I could see anyway.

  Head high.

  Shoulders back.

  Lips twisted.

  Eyes laughing.

  I pretended to adjust my bag on my shoulder. When my hand ran back across my body, I slipped the knife from my bra and flicked the blade free.

  Despite the urge to, I didn’t run.

  I ran from no man.

  But every instinct inside told me danger was surrounding me and closing in on me.

&nbs
p; Something so terrifying that chills skated across my skin.

  Then again, I liked danger.

  My shoulders shook with a laugh that ended with a sharp inhale, my steps faltering when a man with a look that could drop you to your knees suddenly appeared in front of me.

  “We’ve really got to stop meeting like this.” I tried to make my tone teasing, but I was still attempting to catch my breath.

  He held out his hand, a look of frustration on his irritatingly handsome face.

  “You’re as loud as a bull.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk. “Is that why you were scared?”

  Not.

  I scoffed and closed my knife. Once I had it hooked onto the center of my bra again, I dug through my bag until I found what he’d come for. I took the last few steps toward him and slapped his knife into his hand but held on when he tried to pull away.

  “Is there anything you don’t miss?”

  His eyes raked over my body, making me ache. Making me want to steal another taste because last night had been everything, and not nearly enough.

  “No,” he finally said. “Stop taking things.”

  Can’t. “But it’s just so fun.”

  “Beck said you don’t steal.”

  “And since he suddenly knows so much about my life, why don’t you tell me what else he said?”

  But he only continued to watch me with those eyes that were at once threatening and burning in a way that made me hate him.

  I wasn’t weak.

  I didn’t want him.

  I craved nothing from no man. They did nothing but ruin you.

  He was no different.

  I released the knife and danced away from where he was standing. “As always, Nightshade, it’s a pleasure to see you.”

  A few feet later, he was falling into step beside me. “Do you walk through here every night?”

  “Oddly curious. First you found out where I lived, now you’re trying to find out my routines. Borderline stalker, if you ask me.” I would know.

  “It’s not safe here.”

  My lips twisted into a wry grin. “Why, Nightshade, are you worried about little ol’ me?” I pressed a hand to my chest and let loose a wild laugh. “I’m capable of protecting myself. Even from assassins like you. But thanks for your concern.”

  I skipped forward, my heart beginning to race for all the wrong reasons when he somehow ended up directly next to me again.

  Nothing about his presence scared me.

  Every part of me wanted to mold myself to him.

  But he couldn’t be here. He couldn’t make it back to the trailer with me.

  Curling my lip, I twisted around to walk backward and said angrily, “You can go.”

  “I’m fine where I am.”

  I forced a huff from my chest. “If this is because of what you said last night, stop. I don’t need you making up for what’s true.”

  He slanted a glare at me. “I’m not. I’m making sure you get home.”

  “Ever the gentleman, Nightshade,” I said teasingly, then took a step toward him, planting myself directly in his path.

  He stopped so suddenly and lithely, it both amazed and frustrated me.

  “If you’re worried about me seeing your trailer. I’ve seen it,” he reminded me.

  My jaw locked so tight to hide the trembling, it felt impossible to speak.

  My chest ached and tears pricked the backs of my eyes.

  Weak.

  How could I forget?

  “What if it all went wrong so you could find what’s been waiting for you?” I asked softly.

  Leaning up on my toes, I brushed my mouth against his, my stomach swirling with heat when he responded with a kiss of his own after a moment. I allowed myself one more brush of my mouth against his. One more gentle, yet hungry kiss. And then I pulled back.

  Need and anger raged in his eyes as he studied me, the conflict something I knew so well.

  “Thanks for the offer.” I dropped to my heels and started walking backward. I forced a wicked smirk and lied, “But I’m not going home.”

  His face fell before he was able to slip back into that mask of frustration.

  “Nightshade,” I murmured as I turned, and finally let everything overwhelm me.

  My wants and needs.

  My pains.

  Most of all my fears.

  And the worry that I wouldn’t have the ability to handle any of it.

  “What do you think it would be like not to come back here?” I asked Jentry a couple days later as we walked up the driveway from school.

  “What’s the point wondering?” he asked with a frustrated look. “This is where we always come back to. No point dreaming about something better.”

  Yes there was. Of course there was.

  Everything was better than this.

  Every kid at school had it better than we did.

  They all made fun of us. The teachers gave us funny looks. They talked about Jentry and me like we were different. They singled Jentry out because he was angry like Daddy.

  There had to be something better.

  “Jess?”

  I looked up when I heard Momma call my name. I was surprised that she was out of the house, but more than that, I was worried.

  Daddy would be extra angry if someone saw the bruises on her face. They were worse than mine and Jentry’s. And I needed to do what I could to keep my Momma safe.

  “Hey Momma,” I said when we got closer, trying to keep my voice quiet so neighbors wouldn’t know she was outside.

  “Jess, it’s time. It’s finally time. We’re leaving. We’re leaving this place. We’re getting out of here.”

  I turned toward Jentry and found him watching me with a look like how I felt.

  Had she heard us talking?

  “Uh, Momma . . .”

  “Come on, honey. I already have the car packed up. We need to go now. We can’t wait another minute.” She looked around quickly, like Daddy might jump out at any second. “Let’s go. Now!”

  She grabbed my arm and started towing me behind her toward the car, and it was then I realized that this was really happening.

  No, I must be having a dream.

  But it felt real because she was holding on to a place where Daddy had hit me and it hurt.

  Momma let go of me when we neared the car and told me to get in, and I turned to reach for Jentry who was right behind me.

  “Momma,” Jentry said. “Where are we—?”

  She turned when she realized Jentry was following me, her scream as loud as when Daddy was hurting her that I had to slap my hands over my ears.

  “Get back,” she screamed and shooed him away. “Why would I try to save you when you’ll only turn into your daddy?”

  “Momma,” Jentry whispered and reached for her.

  “Don’t you touch me. It’s inside you,” she said, her voice as soft as his now. “You can’t escape that evil. Any good you touch will be tarnished.” She pointed at Jentry then pointed at the house. “You’re just like him.”

  I stared at Jentry when Momma turned from him and didn’t look away even when she opened my door and tried to push me inside.

  “We can’t leave him,” I cried out.

  “Get in the car,” she screamed, pushing and pulling on me no matter how hard I tried to get back to my other half. “You’re being weak. Stop being weak, Jessica.”

  “Jentry, come on!”

  “See nothing,” he whispered to me as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. “Hear nothing.”

  “Jentry, no.”

  Momma shoved me into the car and slammed the door behind me, and I turned in the seat to look out the back window as she lifted her shaking hand in Jentry’s direction again. “Everything you touch you ruin . . . everything.”

  He dug his hands into his eyes to wipe away his tears when she turned from him, then looked at me.

  “Be nothing,” he mouthed.

  I nodded as I s
obbed. I hated that I wasn’t strong like my brother.

  I made a promise that I would come back for him.

  And until then, I would see nothing. I would hear nothing. And I would be nothing.

  I stared at the large, brightly lit sign, boasting the name of the bar in front of me.

  The Jack.

  It was the place to go if you were legal—as Aric had constantly reminded me when he was still alive. Legal being key, since the owner was a stickler.

  Not that it’d stopped Aric or Beck.

  I never once joined them. I hadn’t had a need to.

  I didn’t drink. I already had a monster waiting for any opportunity to take over my mind.

  I’d lived in Wake Forest my entire life, but I hadn’t set foot into the massive bar until half a year ago when someone had finally given me reason to. Nearly every night since, I’d found myself there.

  But even with how many times I’d been there, a shudder ripped through my body as I stepped through the doors.

  Like a demon passing through the doors of a church. It shouldn’t be done.

  And what I was doing—it shouldn’t be done.

  Deep down, I knew that.

  I couldn’t convince myself of that.

  Because other than going to his house and killing him in his sleep, this bar was the only way to get to him.

  I eyed his sister slinging drinks behind the bar as I moved smoothly through the crowd of people, headed for the booth I sat in every night.

  It gave me a view of the bar and was set far enough in the shadows that no one would notice me unless they were looking directly at me.

  Once I was in there, I waited to see if he would show. As I did every night.

  My number four.

  Dare.

  One hour. That was all I let myself have in this place with my wants and plans before I forced myself away.

  Most nights, he didn’t show when I was here—if he came at all.

  One night he’d had Lily under his arm.

  It’d taken every ounce of willpower I possessed to walk from the bar instead of killing him right then in front of her.

  Sometimes I still thought it might’ve been easier to get it over with then. But I had my plans for him—just as I had with Bailey and Finn. Just like I did for Mickey.