51. Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty

The last few hours have been a blur. The last clear thing I remember are the words Banks said to me on the phone.

"He's the one who killed your brother."

I'm really struggling with this.

Sev lied to me. He looked me right in the face, and he lied. He put on some bullshit expression to make it seem like he felt bad, delivered the news of my brother's death, and didn't even flinch at lying about it. When I asked questions, he made up some bullshit excuse about seeing it on the boards. He never faltered. Never wavered. Not for a second did I think he was the one to do this. I should have known it was him. That's what he does. It's who he is. Why didn't I question it more?

I'm pissed at myself for not being angrier over him killing Jackson. I should be mad about that, but I can't find it in me to be. I guess I am a little. But since finding out about Jackson's death, I've had time to think it through. He wasn't the same person I knew from when I was little. He was a bad person. A person this world doesn't need. He spread evil. Did vile things. Being my brother doesn't make him being a bad person go away. It doesn't dissolve his crimes. What he did isn't okay because he's my brother. They're unforgivable regardless of who he is. Maybe Jackson didn't deserve to be killed, but the law wasn't doing its job and who knows how many more innocent people he'd have hurt before someone else got to him? This was inevitable. So yeah, I guess I'm pissed Sev killed him, but I understand why he did. It would have been awkward for a while had I found that out. I'd have been mad. But I'd have gotten over it once I had time to think it over. It's been barely two days and I've already accepted Jackson's fate.

But lying? That shit has me furious.

How will I ever trust Sev knowing he can lie to me so easily? That he didn't even care about doing it? That I didn't even question it. That I had no fucking idea.

What else has he lied about?

That's the problem. That's the question that'll haunt me every time I look him in the face. Every time he speaks, I'll question the truth. Every time he tells me something, I'll wonder what he's leaving out. He ruined anything we ever could have had. Over a lie. One fucking lie.

He's gone on about how much he knows me. How much he thinks he knows me.

Does he know me at all?

If he did, wouldn't he have known I'd want the truth? That this is something I'd have understood? That a lie is something I cannot forgive? Maybe he doesn't know me as well as he thought he did. As well as even I thought he did. He tricked me. He's the son of the head of the Bratva. He's one of the most lethal assassins in the world. He was hired to kill me and Jackson.

Hell, everything he's ever done or said to me is probably all because of that. Killing us was too easy. May as well make a game out of it, right? Spice it up a little. I'm disgusted with myself for falling for his bullshit so easily. It barely took anything at all for me to walk right into his trap. It was so fucking easy.

Pathetic. I'm fucking pathetic.

I've been lying here in bed, in one of Reese's many guest rooms, staring at the ceiling. I can't get this shit with Sev off my mind. It's infuriating how since he's popped into my life he's all I think about in one way or another.

Recalling what Reese said, about the way he was with Josie when he first met her, actually made me feel better about moving forward with Sev. I'd considered having a conversation with Sev about what is going on with us and if he's only in this for the game or if it's more.

We've never had a serious conversation about it. It's been a bunch of him chasing me and me pushing him away. Even the last few times when I gave in there was never a discussion about us being anything more than what we are. When I said I was moving to California, he didn't argue. Didn't tell me not to go. Because he didn't care. This was just a job for him.

A glance at the clock tells me it's almost three in the morning. My stomach rumbles and the leftover pizza in the kitchen is calling my name. I get out of bed and make my way through the dark house until I'm in the kitchen. I dig the pizza out of the fridge, eat three slices and down two bottles of water. I drank a lot of alcohol earlier. And though I sobered up quickly after the phone call with Banks, I'll feel it tomorrow if I don't hydrate now. When I'm done, I wash my hands and head back to my room, desperate to shut my mind off and go to sleep.

I'm just inside the door when there's a hand around my mouth and another around my abdomen.

"I've missed you," Sev whispers in my ear. He's holding me, but not tight. He isn't expecting me to fight him. Which is why I do. And I do it hard.

A sharp elbow to the gut gives me enough space to step out of his grip, whirl on him, and slug him in the face. He groans, falling back into the wall. I'm on him right away, forearm against his throat, putting all my body weight behind it.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I growl in a low whisper.

I know I'm across the house, but I don't want to wake up Reese. I vaguely remember him putting the pieces together about who Sev is and that he was at his wedding. That the same person who was hired to kill me is the one who's in love with me. Kind of remember him saying something about us talking about it tomorrow, but I couldn't gauge his mood over it. Is he mad? Impressed? No clue. The last thing I want is for him to run in here and do something stupid.

"I came to see you," he says, sounding hurt. "You left me at my house."

"Usually when someone leaves without saying a word it's because they don't want to talk."

He frowns, and I don't miss the pain in his eyes. "I just thought—"

"Thought, what? Of more lies to tell me?" I bait.

"I haven't lied to you."

I shove my forearm harder into his throat. He grunts.

"Try again," I seethe, holding his gaze.

I see it the moment he gets it. The moment he knows that I know. But it goes away as quickly as it was there.

"I didn't lie t—"

I slide my hand into his back pocket, pull out the switchblade he keeps there, flip it open and hold it against the hollow of his throat, just beneath my forearm. I get it all done so quickly he can't react.

But then I remember who he is. Who I learned he is today. That has me hesitant for just a moment, but the anger is blinding me. I don't care who he is. He pissed me off. He… he fucking hurt me.

"Lie to me again, and I will shove this knife so far into your throat it'll come out your ass."

"Okay," he says, swallowing hard.

I see the honesty in his eyes, but I can't believe it. I can't fall for his tricks again. The man has lied to me. Kept things from me. He tricked me. And he's doing it again right now.

"Say it," I demand.

He grits his teeth, looking away. I press the knife into his skin. A drop of blood pools there and drips down, disappearing when it soaks into the collar of his black shirt.

"Fucking say it," I repeat. I want to hear it. Want to hear him say those words. Tell me the truth.

Sev swallows hard, then in a husky whisper, admits, "I killed your brother. I killed Jackson."

The words are… shattering. I expected to be relieved. Thought knowing the truth would help, but it doesn't. It only tells me that he did in fact lie to me. It cements my worst fears.

"You fucking lied to me," I grit out shakily.

"I had to," he says.

I shake my head, scoffing. "Nah. That's not you. You only do whatever the fuck you want to."

"Exactly," he says through clenched teeth. His hands go to my hips. My eyes fall closed, but I can't give into him no matter how good that feels. "I knew if I told you the truth I would lose you, and I was so close to having you."

"Then why the fuck did you do it?"

"I—"

"And don't fucking lie to me."

"Okay, I won't. I swear, I will not lie to you about anything ever again."

I want to believe him. Fuck, I want to believe him so badly. Despite all this bullshit, I missed him too. I like the way he feels against me. The way he smells. The way he fucking looks at me. But I can't believe anything that comes out of his mouth.

He shifts his eyes around the room before settling them back on me. "This would be a lot easier without the knife at my throat."

I scoff. "Don't act like you can't get out of this."

"I can, Justin. That's the point. I could have stopped you from taking the knife from my pocket but I didn't."

I hesitate, holding his gaze before stepping back. He's right. But it's all part of his game, I'm sure. I flip the knife closed and shove it in my pocket.

Sev lifts his shirt to use the bottom to wipe at his neck.

"You'll live," I snap.

He steps toward me, but I hold up a hand, so he stops.

He sighs before explaining. "This is the truth. I was hired to kill you and your brother. And I fully intended to do that when I came here. Until I saw you. Everything between us has been the truth. I've never lied to you about anything except Jackson, which I felt like shit about, but I was scared."

"I don't want to hear about how you were scared. Tell me why the fuck you did it," I seethe.

"Because my father is the head of the Bratva, and he isn't a man you say no to. You and Jackson should have been dead a long time ago, but I couldn't fucking do it. My father has been breathing down my neck. Threatening my life, which I don't give a fuck about, but I knew he'd get the job done whether I did it or not. That night I killed those three guys? I went a little nuts."

"Oh, so you're admitting it now?" I bark.

He shakes his head, frowning. He stares at the ground for a long moment, just taking breaths.

"I know I'm not normal, Justin," he starts, bringing his gaze back to mine. "There's no way I could do all the shit I do and be normal. I lost my mind. I was not in the right headspace to make clear decisions. And I had a moment where I figured if I just did it, it would be over with. Because why shouldn't I? You didn't want to be with me. Every chance you got you told me I was delusional. Crazy. Annoying. I had a moment where I didn't think we were going to be anything, so I reacted. That's why I disappeared. I was ashamed of what I did. The moment it was done, I took off. That's what I should have done in the first place. I should have thought it through better. I fucked up. I know that now, but I've also known for a long time that I couldn't kill you. That I'd have to kill my father instead."

Those last words have me rearing my head back. "You're going to kill the head of the Bratva?"

He nods. "That's what I decided. The only way I can get out of killing you is by killing him, and I don't give a fuck about him or anything he's doing." He moves toward me and this time I don't stop him. "I went to you with the intention of telling you the truth. I wanted you to know what happened. I almost told you. I swear, I really did. But you were hurting. You were willingly coming to me. I know it was wrong, but fuck, Justin. Do you have any idea how fucking in love with you I am? I couldn't risk losing you."

I frown, shaking my head. "You don't love me, Sevastian."

"I do. I really fucking do," he says, his voice cracking.

I keep shaking my head. "You don't know wh—"

"Don't fucking say it," he growls, pointing at me. "Do not fucking tell me I don't know what love is just because I do fucked up things. I've heard it my whole fucking life. I've been treated like nothing but a killing machine from my father. Do not look at me and tell me what I am capable of feeling. I know what the fuck I feel. If you don't want to believe that, it's on you."

I don't know what to say to that. Sev told me there was a fine line between love and hate. There's also a fine line between love and obsession.

"I think you believe you love me, Sev, but if you did, you never would have lied to me."

"It's why I lied to you, Justin. Don't you get that? I can't fucking lose you."

I step back, shaking my head again, but holding his gaze. "Can't lose what you never had, Sevastian. I'm not yours. Never have been."

The look on his face is absolutely devastating. A lead weight rests on my chest as I watch him. He blinks a few times, looking away from me. "Right," he says quietly, his voice monotone. "You're right." He takes a step back and turns to leave, but before he goes, he faces me again.

"Federico Farina is dead, by the way. Everything he was after, now belongs to you. Congratulations. You're the head of the Farina family."

Then he walks out. And the farther he gets, the more my heart aches for him to turn around and come back. I'd break if he did. I'd give in. So another part of me wants him to keep going because I don't know if I'm strong enough to fight him anymore.

He doesn't come back. I'm not sure how long I stand here, staring at an empty hallway. He doesn't come back. And I don't think he ever will.

I sit on the bed and something digs into my thigh. I glance down at my pocket, remembering I shoved his knife in there. I pull it out, flipping it open.

I should toss it out the window. Throw it in the trash. This thing has done nothing but cause me pain, yet I can't imagine not seeing it anymore. So I close it and tuck it under my pillow, then lay down and hope like fuck I can get to sleep before the sun comes up.