26. ~Skylar~
Adrenaline was thrumming through me.
My whole being was electrified.
On edge.
Primed.
Ready.
Jett had thought he could get inside my head, get under my skin, by coming back to the place where it had all begun with him.
The fight club where we’d met.
Where things in my life had taken a majorly fucked-up turn.
Not long ago, his tactic would have worked. It would have made me rage and lose control, becoming a merciless animal driven by violence and the bloodlusting need to inflict pain and punishment at all costs, consequences be damned.
But I was different now.
I was better. Getting there, at least. It wasn’t something that would automatically switch off over a few weeks. It would require consistent effort and therapy to heal properly.
At least, I was at a place now where I could control my actions, where I could adhere to strategy and maintain reason.
Where I wouldn’t lose control.
“He’s carrying a shit-ton of weight on his back. As strong and as resilient as he is, there’s only so much anybody can bear before they break, and I’m fucking worried about him. We need to take some of that burden off him. You with Damien. And you by proving that you can handle this Jett shit when the time comes.”
Caleb’s words to Bastian and I concerning the heavy burden that Caspian was carrying.
And I would take some of that weight off him by handling this.
I wouldn’t fuck it up, I wouldn’t cause him further grief. I wouldn’t cause any of them further pain and worry.
They’d done so much for me, given me so much. Their understanding, their support, their love and adoration. It was my turn to reciprocate through dealing with this the proper way tonight.
As I continued to stare out at the fight club, specifically the apartment building attached to the side of the venue, I felt an approach.
I turned to see Caleb returning from conferring with his team.
He smiled at me, his hand slipping into mine and giving it a comforting squeeze. “Almost there, darling. They’re moving into position now, preparing the explosives to breach the two steel doors at the east and west ends of the site.”
I nodded my understanding. “Jett has added two more bodyguards.” I pointed at the two pacing up and down the wraparound balcony of the apartment.
“I’m aware. It won’t be a problem. I’ll clear the way of the additional two. You make a beeline for the apartment interior itself. Jett is yours, we’ll handle the obstacles.”
“You trust me to go in there with him on my own?”
“You’re in a good place. Stable and focused. Our sessions have been working, you’ve been open to them, put a lot of effort in too, which has enabled you to make great progress. Your blocks are firmly in place. So, yeah, I trust that you can do this without going off the deep end.”
He smiled at me and eased away to pull his balaclava on.
I sucked in a breath and shored up my focus, cracking my gloved knuckles, then shifting in my Onyx gear, the leather like a second, protective skin, the familiarity rolling over me, and the power I always felt when I wore it to go into battle.
Moments later, it happened.
The thunder, the creaking and decimation of metal, as Caleb’s team breached the doors.
Our signal.
“Let’s move,” Caleb said.
He led the way, both of us bolting toward the wooden stairs that led up to the apartment building. The explosions had alerted the two big-ass guards on the balcony and one of them started running down the stairs, the other moving tight to the apartment door.
Caleb bolted up the stairs and tackled the guy making his way down, slamming him down painfully onto his back.
“Go! Get that motherfucker,” he called to me.
I leapt over their tangled limbs and sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
The guy up there ran at me.
I sidestepped him, then kicked him away. As he stumbled near the stairs, I spun into a spinning kick that sent him crashing down them… right toward Caleb. The bastard was absolutely done for.
I pulled my tactical knife from my holster, then ran at the door, shoving my boot into it.
It gave way under the brutal assault, ripping open and smacking against the interior wall.
As I cautiously stepped inside, I rapidly took in the bachelor apartment.
The place was run-down, one ratty brown couch positioned in front of a small flat screen hanging on the wall, then a double bed with rumpled cream sheets in the far left corner. There was a bathroom straight ahead, the door open. And that was the extent of it.
I’d barely taken another step inside when a rush of movement caught my attention.
In the next second, I was body checked into the wall beside the door, the door itself kicked shut. As I jarred painfully against the wall, my wrist was snagged against it, trapping my knife-wielding hand at the side of my head.
A blur of motion caught my eye and looked to see a syringe coming toward me.
I snagged the offending wrist.
“Nice block,” a hauntingly familiar voice came.
And then he was there pushing his weight into me.
Jett.
His creepy eyes burned into mine, excitement brimming.
His platinum-blond hair was spiked as usual but looking even more wild and crazy. Thick stubble covered his jaw, and he was clad only in a pair of red shorts, his bulky ripped chest on full display.
“I knew you’d find me here. Knew you couldn’t resist.” He pushed against my hand holding off the syringe, making me grit my teeth with the effort to keep it from penetrating my throat. “Come on, be a good girl for me and take a little nap. We can’t get reacquainted here, it’s not secure enough.”
“I’m here to end your miserable life, you psycho!”
“Is that what you’ve been telling yourself as you’ve killed your way through my recruits in a desperate bid to get to me?” He scoffed. “Come on, sugar, let some of that delusion go, yeah? It’s been two years, we’re beyond that now, aren’t we?”
“You took my mom from me! You took my life!”
“And it worked. You embraced that fucked-up side of you that I love so fucking much, exactly what needed to happen for us to be together for the long-haul.”
Son of a bitch. He was just… beyond.
I ground my teeth, reminding myself that I needed to keep control and refuse to allow his provocations to determine my actions, to throw me off track again.
I’d worked too hard to allow it.
The boys had worked too hard for me.
I wouldn’t lose myself again, least of all because of this motherfucking piece of shit.
I slammed my knee between his legs, the idiot having left himself open as he’d spewed his so-far-removed-from-reality bullshit. He grunted and lurched, and it was all the opening I needed to wrench the syringe from his grip, then toss it into the wall, crushing it to pieces, the threat of him sedating me along with it.
With that hand now free, I delivered a brutal uppercut to the underside of his jaw that had him wavering. I hooked the back of his knee and wrenched his leg out from under him.
It broke his grip on my knife-wielding hand as he had to throw his hand out on the carpet to break his fall.
I smashed my boot into his face, sending him sprawling onto his back.
I went in for another kick, but he swiftly rolled to his side out of the way. And then he twisted and flipped back to his feet.
“Damn, gorgeous. Wanna play first? By all means.”
I spun my knife in my hand. “This ends tonight.”
His face twisted. “The fuck it does. You’re right where you need to be. Fucking finally. On the precipice. I can see it in your eyes. You’re isolated now too, and you’re fucking well obsessed with me. You see? It all comes back to me.”
I smiled inwardly.
He couldn’t read me anymore.
He was way off the mark and he couldn’t tell at all.
“Your intel is flawed. I’m not alone.”
He frowned. “Of course you are. It’s not just intel either, it’s you always been closed off, locking yourself down. Something you know only I can force you to change through my harsher methods. You need me, you see. You always fucking have.”
“I’m back with my men.”
“What? No. That’s not what I’ve heard or—”
“Yes, your source of information has been very helpful to us too.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Damien Thorn… he’s with you?”
“He has been from the beginning. With us.”
“He played me?”
“You were so desperate that you fell for it all.”
“No!” he bellowed, then lunged at me.
I sidestepped his attack, then threw my fist. It plunged into his face, making his head snap to the side.
He hissed and angrily wiped a trail of blood off with his bare arm.
“Fucking cunt! You’re screwing up everything!”
“You did that all on your own,” I bit back as he went for me, but I brought my arm down, deflecting the attempted blow. I shoved my hand into his chest, knocking him into the back of the couch. But he used the impact as momentum to spring back at me, snagging my wrist and yanking the blade free. He tossed it into the arm of the couch, the thing embedding there deep, protruding from the rough fabric.
And then he tackled me into the bathroom.
I cried out as my back hit the hard porcelain sink.
Then he was on me, wrapping his hands around my throat, trying to choke me out. “You’re like me!” he roared. “Not letting you go!” He dug his nails into my flesh, making me gag from the insane pressure.
I reached out behind me and snatched up the first thing I could find—a razor.
I sliced it across his face, blood spurting.
He screamed and fell back, pressing his hand to it and the flesh I’d scraped away.
As he reeled, I pushed off the sink, trapped him in an elbow lock, then hauled him around and drove him face-first into the mirror.
It shattered around him, all over his face and hair, sharp shards digging into his skin.
He shoved his head back and smacked me in the face, forcing me back.
As I stumbled, he lunged and me and drove me out of the bathroom, right onto the main apartment floor on my stomach.
I twisted my legs and managed to kick him off me before he could obtain a stronger hold.
As I staggered to my feet, he bolted forward, coming for me again.
I darted out of his reach just in time.
Hearing him cursing me out and roaring, his footsteps drawing closer, I dove for the blade in the arm of the couch, ripped it out, and spun to face him just as he was right upon me.
I snagged his shoulder, jerked him into me, then drove the blade through his chest.
He choked and froze, eyes shooting wide.
The door flew open in the next second and Caleb rushed in, his gun at the ready, rapidly taking in the scene.
I kicked Jett off me and watched him collapse onto the apartment floor.
“You all right?” Caleb asked, noticing my mild injuries.
“Fine,” I breathed, fighting to catch my breath. “I’m fine.”
He was there in the next second, tucking me into his side, not saying anything else and knowing that I needed to see this for myself, to make damn sure Jett was really gone.
I couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch, unable to take my eyes off him as the light in his eyes faded and his life slipped away moment by moment, my knife buried deep in his chest.
It was done.
Hewas done.
The torment was finally over.
As I stareddown at the corpse of the man who had caused me so much pain and loss, made me feel powerlessness, tried to make me into his victim, a voice carried toward me, diverting my attention.
I looked out to see the team leader, Caleb’s second, walking up to him as he smoked out over the balcony of the apartment.
Sven Nielsen.
He pulled his balaclava off and for the first time I saw his face.
Caramel-brown eyes shrewdly focused, his jawline obscured by a thick dark beard which contrasted sharply with his shaved head. He was a big guy, a whole lot of bulk, like Caleb. He looked to be in his thirties.
As he reached Caleb, they slap-shook.
“Thanks for doing this. I know it’s outside your normal purview and not facilities-related.”
“You called, I came. Simple as that, Cal.”
Caleb regarded him intently. “But?”
“Just a reminder. I know you’ve got your personal shit you’re dealing with, but we can’t wait forever. We need to move on this thing.”
Caleb nodded. “Gather the necessary intel. Recon the target, then prepare a tactical plan.”
Sven smiled. “Will do.”
Another slap-shake and he took off back down the stairs.
Caleb butted out his smoke, then walked into the apartment, looking between me leaning against the wall and Jett’s fallen form. “Done taking it in?” he asked hopefully, and a little worriedly.
I pushed off the wall and walked to him. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
He wrapped his arms tightly around me. “Let’s get out of here, wait outside for the cleanup crews to do their thing.”
“Thank you,” I murmured against his chest as he led us out of the awful place.
“Anytime, darling. We’ve got you. We’ve always got you. It’s over now.”
His words sank in, hitting me deeply.
Oh my God.
It was. It really was.
I couldn’t believe it.
Jett Bane was finally gone.
It was finally fucking over.
I was free.