Chapter 44

I sit on the edge of the cliff, staring into the darkness below. The air is still, the stars twinkle brightly, beautiful and calm, the complete opposite to the tornado that rages within me. I gaze down at her mini-dolly in my palms, a tiny thing that feels like a cruel reminder of what I've lost. It's been a week since we rode off this cliff, and there is still no sign of my Little Dolly's existence. The dull ache inside me is almost un-fucking-bearable, her last words haunting me every moment of the day, tormenting me.

"Promise me you'll take every single last one of them out."

I will do it. I have to. I fucking want to. I have already found where Kyro is, and it's only a matter of time before I get my hands on him. I'm just waiting for the perfect opportunity. He thinks Dolly is dead, so he's living his fucking life as if there are no repercussions for what he has done, as if he is untouchable, as if this is now over, but he is so fucking wrong.

His focus has slipped, but if he thinks I am not going to make him pay for this, he is gravely mistaken. He clearly does not have a fucking clue how much Dolly meant to me. How obsessed I was with her. I just wish she had trusted me; trusted in the words and actions I showed to her. I wish she didn't do something so fucking stupid. Now it feels like it was all for nothing. I'm hoping, somewhere, she is still here, and she actually survived. I'm hoping she is lying low, but I can't keep my hopes up for much longer; it's fucking killing me.

The waves crash against the rocks below, a constant memory of that fateful night and I clench my fists, the mini dolly digging into my palms. I have to channel this pain, this fucking rage, into something meaningful. I have to make Kyro pay for everything he's done. For every scar he left on her body and soul. For every moment of fear and torture she suffered. For stealing the future we could have had together.

I close my eyes, the memory of her voice, her touch, her smell, her smile temporarily filling the void within me, but it's not enough. It will never be e-fucking-nough. I won't let her sacrifice be in vain. I'll take every single last one of them out and when I finally stand over Kyro's bloodied body, he'll know the true meaning of vengeance.

When my phone vibrates in my pocket, I pull it out and gaze down at the lit-up screen to see it's a private caller. I answer and stay silent, pressing it to my ear.

"Hell, we have made a decision and before we go ahead, we would like to offer you the opportunity first," a voice says, calm and confident.

I lie back on the cold grass, staring up at the stars. "What?"

"Since Kyro gave the go-ahead to rain terror on Oddity when it was open to the public, we have made the decision to put a hit on his head. As you know, having even our own associates go against us or wreak havoc on our grounds is not something we can tolerate or take lightly."

I sit up quickly, listening carefully as he continues. "Oddity is one of the best cleaners we have in the society, and he could have uncovered us by being so fucking reckless. He must be killed before he exposes Oddity for what it is."

"I agree," I say, gazing over at the sea.

"We're giving you the chance to carry out the hit, or we can hand it to someone else," he offers.

"Fuck no. I'll take it," I declare, knowing Kyro was already dead anyway, but I don't want the society to do it before I do.

"Seeing as he knows what he has done is wrong, he has contacted us in hopes to plead for mercy tomorrow night."

I straighten up, my interest piqued. "And?"

"And we have permitted it under false pretences."

"You've set him up?" I ask, a dark satisfaction creeping into my voice.

"Exactly. While he is on the way here, it would be a good time for you…" he trails off.

"No problem. I'll be ready," I respond..

"He also believes we have told you to hold off until his mercy plea, so he will not see it coming."

My natural suspicion raises. "All this for a man who has been your associate for years and years?"

"Yes. He has been around for so long, Hell, that he should know better than to be so fucking stupid," he retorts calmly.

I nod, although he can't see me. "I'll be in touch," he says before hanging up.

I wait a few seconds longer, staring down at my phone. I can finally end this, but it means nothing if my Little Dolly isn't here with me to witness his downfall and demise. I stand up, brushing the grass off my clothes, and take a deep breath. I slip my phone back into my pocket and make my way back to my bike, my mind racing and conducting my wicked plans.

I ride across the field, the wind whipping past me, almost at my underground chamber. When I am close enough, I cut the engine and jump off, my boots hitting the ground with a thud. I walk to the doors, pull them open, and descend the steps. Once inside, I head straight for my empty torture room, intent on grabbing a gasoline can.

I stop in my tracks as soon as I notice something lying delicately on the surgeon's table. A single black, thorned rose. My heart rate picks up, pounding against my ribs like a fucking drum. I rush forward, my breath quickening with each step. I reach out for it, allowing the thorns to prick my fingertips, and a small grin stretches across my lips.

"She's a-fucking-live," I whisper, a relief and confusion rushing through me. The rose is a message, a sign that she's out there. The dark petals and sharp thorns have always been a perfect symbol of her—dark, dangerous, and fucking beautiful.