Afterlight (Fanfiction) ✓

chapter sixteen

Jay

     I was drowning in a sea of conflicting thoughts. The girl had lied to me, deceived me in the most visceral way possible, yet here I was—still alive, still breathing, and still struggling to understand why I couldn't simply let her go.

I knew the truth now. She was Chloe Romano. Not some innocent traveler caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was part of the Romanos, a name soaked in blood and betrayal. Yet, despite the lies, the betrayal, and the war that had followed, I couldn't just erase the fact that she'd stayed. Stayed, knowing full well who I was, who she was to me. She'd stayed, and in some sick, twisted way, I had let her.

Damien had been right. Romanos lived in a world of lies, where truth was nothing more than a shadow. She'd made me believe she was someone else, someone harmless. A girl with no past, just a young woman seeing the world. But the world wasn't kind to people like her. People like us.

And despite everything, I couldn't shake the image of her face when I found her, helpless and broken, just a girl with a sad past, trying to outrun the ghosts that chased her.

But now I had to follow orders. Damien's orders. It was the only thing left to do. She was better off somewhere far from me, away from all of us, away from the mess we'd made of our lives. Maybe Dean's place was safer for her than here, with the chaos, the bloodshed, the lies.

The thought hit me like a punch to the gut. Rage sparked inside me, hotter than anything I'd ever felt. The anger, the helplessness—it was all there, swirling in a pit deep in my stomach.

I forced my feet to move, climbing the stairs with a strange lightheadedness pulling at me. My body ached with every step, reminding me that I wasn't just broken inside. Damien watched me, silent, his eyes cold, his gaze never leaving me.

I stepped into the bathroom and turned the sink on, splashing cold water onto my face, letting the icy chill sting against my open cuts. The water ran over my skin like a river of regret, but I couldn't stop it. I just stood there, letting the cold numb the pain, trying to wash away the turmoil inside. After a minute, I turned the water off, patting my face dry with a towel. But no matter how much I wiped, the weight of what I had to do still lingered.

I bent over to pick up my gun, the cold metal a harsh reminder of the life I'd been forced into. The weight of it felt too familiar, too suffocating.

"Look who finally realized what's important," Damien's voice cut through the silence, smooth and condescending. I didn't bother responding, just straightened up and reached for my jacket, the black leather heavy in my hands. I shrugged it on, the fabric making a soft rustling sound as I slid my arms through.

"You're going to kill the girl?" Damien's voice held a note of surprise, his gaze sharp and calculating as he watched me.

I didn't look at him. "What does it look like I'm about to do?" I sighed, the weight of the question pressing down on me.

I didn't have the answers anymore, not for this. I didn't know what I wanted, or what would happen if I walked out of that door. But it didn't matter what I wanted, what mattered was what I was told to do.

Damien's approval came in the form of a nod, his smirk widening. "Good for you," he said, his words laced with the venom of someone who had already won. I threw the keys to my motorcycle into my jacket pocket without another word.

I closed the door behind me with a soft thud, stepping into the cool night air. The weight of the gun in my pocket was almost comforting, a reminder that I had a mission to do. My boots hit the ground with purpose as I made my way around to the side of the house, where my motorcycle waited for me.