Chapter 22 DEVIL [FLASHBACK]
Chapter 22 DEVIL [FLASHBACK]
The zipper shrieked across the room like a warning shot.
I stood in the doorway, barefoot, still in the oversized tee I stole from Steccy’s closet last month. Her closet now looked like a war zone—half of her clothes on the floor, duffel bags wide open, drawers yanked so hard they hung loose from the dresser.
Steccy spun around like I’d caught her robbing her own apartment. Her eyes were rimmed red, hair a mess of tangles, and for the first time in years, she looked… small.
“I’m leaving,” she said, voice sharp and shaking. “Today.”
“No good morning?” I leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed. “Not even a ‘hey, I think we’re royally screwed’?”
She picked up her laptop, shoved it into her tote. “He knows about Brazil.”
I stared. “What?”
“The orphanage,” she whispered, like the word itself might summon him. “He said if I don’t pay, if I even think about running again… he’ll burn it down.”
The silence stretched between us, snapping tight.
I pushed off the frame, slow. Walked toward her, each step deliberate. “You’re telling me… that last night, while I was drinking myself half-blind at a bar full of men who probably kill for fun, Zade Solenzara threatened to burn down the only place we ever felt safe?”
Her mouth opened. Then closed.
I laughed. Just once. Ugly. “And you waited until now to tell me?”
“He didn’t say it to you—”
“Oh, so that makes it better?”
She flinched. “Aubrey—”
“No,” I snapped, stepping closer. “You don’t get to say my name like we’re on the same side right now.”
Her chest rose, fell, rose again. “I was trying to protect you.”
“Protect me?” I shoved the nearest duffel off the bed. It hit the floor with a thud. “By dragging me into your debt? By making me lie, steal, and run—again and again?”
“I didn’t ask you to—”
“You didn’t have to!” I shouted. “You always knew I’d follow. That’s your magic trick, isn’t it? Be just desperate enough that I can’t walk away.”
She looked like I slapped her.
But I wasn’t done.
I pointed a finger at her, rage crackling behind my ribs like lightning. “All this started with you. The deals. The drugs. The fake IDs. You were the one who stole from the wrong man. You were the one who signed both our names on that account. You were the one who got in bed with devils thinking you could outsmart them.”
Her chin quivered. “I didn’t think it would get this bad.”
“Well, guess what?” I hissed. “It’s worse.”
She dropped onto the edge of the bed, hands in her hair. “He was calm, Bree. Calm when he said it. Like he was ordering coffee. Like torching a building full of nuns and orphans didn’t even make the needle move.”
I stood there, breathing hard.
My pulse rang in my ears. Not just from the fear, or the betrayal, or the sick churning realization that we were now Zade Solenzara’s newest game pieces.
It was something else.
Something colder.
He hadn’t even spoken to me. Barely touched me. Barely looked at me. And still… I could feel his fingerprints all over this mess.
He didn’t need to scream.
He was the scream.
Steccy sniffled, hugging her knees. “He said if we run again, he’ll find us. And he’ll make sure we never sleep again. That the nightmares will be real this time.”
I swallowed hard. My voice, when it came out, was low. “Why’d you even come back here?”
“I didn’t know he’d find us this fast,” she whispered.
I sat beside her, my hand twitching to slap sense into her—or maybe just shake the fear out of her eyes.
“You really think you’re built for this?” I asked. “For making deals with men like that? Because news flash, honey, you’re not a con artist. You’re a girl who still cries at Pixar movies.”
She looked up at me, a mess of guilt and shame and something close to grief.
“I was trying to give us a better life.”
“Well, you gave us a death sentence.”
Her shoulders trembled.
I inhaled sharply, forcing down the storm in my throat.
“Where was he when he said that to you?” I asked.
“In the hallway. Just after Matteo—after everything. He waited till you were gone. Said I needed to learn the meaning of consequences.”
A bitter laugh rose from my gut. “He’s poetic. Great.”
Steccy turned to me, her voice cracking. “What do we do, Bree?”
I looked at her.
And for a second, I didn’t see the sister who dragged me into hell. I saw the girl who used to hide under my blanket during thunder. The one who stole crackers from the pantry just so we could eat after lights-out. The one who once swore we’d leave Brazil and never look back.
I saw someone I couldn’t abandon.
Even if I wanted to.
I stood up, arms limp at my sides.
“We survive,” I said flatly. “The same way we always do.”
“And Zade?”
My jaw clenched.
Zade was a problem I couldn’t solve. Not yet.
But I could feel him watching us from the shadows even when he wasn’t there. Like his eyes had taken root in the walls.
Like his voice would echo in my head even if I covered my ears.
“I’ll deal with him.”
Steccy looked up, hesitant. “You’re sure?”
No.
Not even close.
But I forced the answer out like venom through gritted teeth.
“Yes.”
Because if the devil wanted war…
He picked the wrong girl to provoke.