Queen of The Reapers by Jessa Halliwell

Twenty-Two

Two Days Later

I studyhim as he cuts two juicy slices off a lemon and carefully sets them on the edges of our ice-filled glasses. He wraps his fingers around the ice-cold bottle of Pellegrino and just as he begins twisting the cap off, a surprise hiss of gas escapes the bottle. He jumps back a little before a hint of a smile touches his lips. He feels silly for his reaction and as a soft blush stains his cheeks, he slowly shakes his head.

It’s a minuscule sign of his humanity, but that doesn’t stop me from envying him for it. I hate how numb I’ve become. How I never let anything hurt me. I hate that the second I feel pain coming, my gut instinct is to run. And as much as I try to deny it, isn’t that what I’m doing right now? Running?

He finishes splashing the bubbly concoction into our glasses and gently places the bottle on the mosaic tiled table perched between our lounge chairs. He takes a step back and offers us a gentle bow, almost as if to say “All yours.”

“That’ll be all, Charles.” Melanie says, stabbing a stainless steel straw into her glass before wrapping her ruby red lips around it. “Thank you.”

I offer Charles a sham of a smile to thank him, but it’s the only thing I can muster. It pales in comparison to the genuine smile on his face, but he accepts it anyway and retreats back into the house.

“You know, most people would kill to lounge by a pool like this and here you are, looking like someone killed your goddamn puppy.”

I let out a half-hearted laugh. “Is it that obvious?” I’m normally good at hiding my emotions. At shielding myself from the rest of the world. But even after 48 hours to fester, this cut hurts more than anything I’ve ever felt before. More than losing Alex.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” She prods. “To get away from them for good.”

“It was.” I stammer. “I mean it is. I just… You’re probably the last person I should tell all this to. Your father is the leader of their rival for god’s sake.”

Melanie takes another slow sip of her sparkling water before responding. “I’m not my father, Stevie.” She says, taking on a more serious tone. “And despite what you may think, The Reapers have always been good friends of mine. I care about them, and strangely enough, I care about you, too. You can talk to me. And I mean, it’s not like you have anyone else to talk to.”

“You’re right.” I say, exhaling a deep breath. “Okay, honestly? It still doesn’t make sense to me. Why would Ezra kill my sister?”

Melanie pulls off sunglasses and glares at me. “Babe, he’s Ezra. He’s been through a lot of shit. Does he ever have a reason for acting the way he does?”

“I don’t know.” I say, gnawing on my lower lip. “Something still doesn’t sit right with me about the whole Ezra thing. After Alex disappeared, he was out nearly every night. If his end goal was to get closer to me, why the hell would he distance himself so much? Why not cozy up to me while I’m freaking out about Alex? I mean, for all he knew, I’d never find out who took her. So why not take advantage of the alone time?”

“That’s a good point.” She says, sipping on her Pellegrino. “But you found his jacket. If that’s not him being caught red-handed, I don’t know what is.”

“Yeah.”

“And you said it yourself, he confessed.”

Did he?

“I mean, he said her blood was on his hands.”

“And that doesn’t strike you as a confession?”

“Not really.”

Melanie sets her glass down, leans back into her lounge chair, and closes her eyes to soak in the sun's powerful rays.

“You know what I think?” She murmurs. “I think you’re looking for a reason to forgive him. You want Ezra to have a conscience, to think and behave like a normal person would. But babe, he’s not normal. There’s nothing underneath the beautiful shell but a cold black heart.”

Mel’s phone dings and I’m literally saved by the bell. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I’m searching for the good in Ezra that just isn’t there.

Out of nowhere, Melanie drops her phone, and the sound of it crashing against the ground jolts me from my thoughts.

I stare at Melanie, but she doesn’t make a move to pick it up. She just sits there, staring off into the distance.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, studying her sullen face. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“I’m fine.” She clips, slipping on her sunglasses as her lips form a tight line. “My fingers were still slippery from the pool. No big deal. Should we head back inside and grab some food?”

The way she’s acting is strange, but I just place the blame on too much time in the sun and follow her back into the house.

“I wasn’t expecting this, you know…” She says, taking a seat on one of her kitchen barstools.

“Expecting what?” I ask, cocking a brow as I take a seat on the opposite side.

“To like you.” She confesses, keeping her eyes on the marble countertop. “I thought you were a bitch and when you asked to come here, my gut instinct was to tell you to fuck off. But in the last couple of days, I’ve realized we have a lot in common.”

“What changed your mind?”

Melanie hesitates. “I got a text. One that I should’ve dug deeper into, but I was mad at you and I didn’t give a fuck about what he had planned for you. But now I do.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, cocking my head at her.

“Dimitri’s coming for you. He’s planning on taking you home. I think it’s his way of forcing the guys to owe him a favor.”

Her phone dings and my heart jumps into my throat.

“That’s him.” Mel says, standing up from her chair. “I’m sorry, Stevie.”

I jump up from my seat and stop her. “Just don’t let him in,” I stammer, “or tell him I’m not here.”

Melanie lingers at the counter and gives me a sad smile. “I know you don’t fully understand this yet,” she says, buzzing him in through the gate on her phone, “but no one says no to Dimitri Evanoff.”

Time stands still as I watch in disbelief as Melanie slides the front door open and Dimitri steps through the door. His powerful body stunts Mels in comparison and I mindlessly wonder if that’s how insignificant I look when I’m next to The Reapers.

This man has gone from enemy to ally to whatever-the-hell-he-thinks-this-is, so swiftly it’s hard to know what to feel about him. But regardless of our complicated past, if he’s here to take me home against my will, he isn’t a fucking friend and neither is Mel.

“You’ve had your fun.” Dimitri says, looking down at me. “But it’s time to go home, Kroshka.”

“No.” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “I’m not ready to face them yet. It’s only been a couple of days, I need more time.”

“Sweet naïve, Kroshka,” he chastises, shaking his head as his large hand grabs a hold of my jaw and squishes my lips, “that isn’t your home anymore. Your home is with me.”

I stare at him, horrified as shock overtakes my body. What the fuck is he talking about? I try to jerk out of his hold, but when I do, he squeezes me even tighter. Painfully so. I start kicking and punching and flailing against him, but it's pointless. I’m helpless to fight him off.

“Wait.” Melanie calls out, seeing the exchange going on between us. “That wasn’t part of the plan.”

Dimitri slides his hand around my throat, turns his head, and glares at her. “That was always part of my plan.”

Melanie's eyes flash from him to me and then back to him. “No.” She says, shaking her head indignantly. “I’m not letting you take her.”

Dimitri laughs, and as he does, he crushes my throat and lifts me up in an expression of his power. “She belongs to me now.” He hisses, staring at me as my vision blurs. “And I’m afraid you don’t have a say in any of this.”

“Charles!” Melanie screams and the next five seconds happen so fast I can barely keep up.

Charles charges into the room with his gun drawn and ready for war. The look on his face is cold, dark, and lethal and he levels his gun at Dimitri with deadly precision. Charles is fast, but Dimitri is faster. Before Charles can pull the trigger, Dimitri uses his free hand to whip his own gun out and fires a bullet straight into the center of Charles’ stomach.

Melanie releases a heart-wrenching scream as she watches his body slowly crumple to the ground. She levels her teary eyes at Dimitri and with no warning; she leaps for him.

Melanie crashes into Dimitri and all of her rage and pain explodes out of her as she forces a powerful kick straight into his balls. Dimitri curses on impact and drops me to the floor as Melanie continues to punch and kick and slap and claw at him. I gasp for air as I try to scramble to my feet and try to help Melanie. This man is a fucking lunatic and he’ll kill her if I don’t stop him.

The two of them are tussling now, struggling over control of Dimitris’ gun. I race for Charles’ gun, but I only make it two steps when I hear a loud bang go off. I snap my head around in time to lock eyes with Melanie as she collapses to the floor. As blood blooms across her chest, she looks at me with so much sadness in her eyes it hurts. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Run.” She croaks, glancing towards the front door.

And I do. I bolt for Melanie’s front door and I don’t look back. They need help, and the only way any of us are getting out of here alive is if I escape. As my heart thunders in my chest, my bare feet pound against the cold tile, and I race for the exit. I can’t focus on anything else around me. All I see is the door and I’m so close, I’m afraid that if I blink my eyes, it’ll disappear and I’ll realize it was all just a figment of my imagination. But I make it, and it is real. I reach for the handle, and the second I feel the cool metal graze my fingertips, something hard smashes against my head and everything goes dark.