VANESSA

I get off the plane, and I take a bus to the stop closest to my house. I really truly intend on going home, but as I hop off the vehicle, my legs carry me in the opposite direction.

Soon, I find myself in the bar that I've been going to a lot recently, and I order my favorite fruity drink. The bar keep gives me one, but I ask him to take it back and make it stronger.

I need a strong one tonight.

He smiles as he hands over the drink and watches when I take a swig and scrunch my facial features. I let out a breath. "Thanks. It's perfect."

He nods and moves on, leaving me alone on my bar stool.

One of my fingers mess with a curl as I take sips and ponder the last week.

Sometimes, I'm outspoken, but I have a right to be, right? I mean, everyone has a right to speak their mind, so me saying that the team should be more merciful really wasn't the cause of Felix's near death, was it?

I recall the way Ajax stared into my soul. He knew it was my fault. He knew.

Because it is my fault.

It is my fault that Felix's heart almost stopped beating. It is my fault that the whole team is feeling unimaginable grief and pain. It is my fault that Felix now has a scar in his stomach to remind him of the agony he felt.

It's my fault.

Blame is a tricky thing, but I guess it belongs to me this time.

My heart cracks, and to make it feel better, I down the whole glass of liquor.

The bartender glances my way and I lift my empty glass, signaling for another one. He smoothly moves to get me more, and while he's working on it, a man sits beside me.

This man looks to be around my age, with a sharp mustache, sharp jawline, and sharp gray eyes. He has beautiful curly brown hair and a mysterious look to him as if he holds everyone's secrets.

Any other day I'd strike up conversation, but I find myself thinking about how he's not like Ethan.

I take another glass from the bartender, mentioning a thank you. The man beside me says, "I've seen you in here before. Are you single?"

"No." I shortly reply, taking another swig. This guy is a weirdo.

I'm about to tell him to leave me alone when a sudden wave of dizziness rolls over me. "Whoa. This drink is strong."

He nods. "Mine is too."

He lifts up his glass, but the smile on his face makes me regret mentioning anything to him.

I take another drink, but my vision goes slightly blurry, and I push the glass away.

Man, am I a lightweight or what?

"Here," the man says as he climbs to his feet. "I'll help you get home."

No, I think, but no words escape my wet lips.

He helps me to my feet and laces his arm in mine.

Shit, this man is about to rape me.

I try to break from his grasp, but his grip is strong. I attempt to speak, but my words are a slurred storm.

The floor sways beneath my feet, the walls circling around me.

Did he... roofie me?

I try a bit harder to break away, using every ounce of strength I have, but he easily brings me closer and closer to the door. He says, "Hey, it's okay. I just want to get you home safely."

I grumble something as he opens the door. The cold night air slithers into the depths of my soul. Chill bumps arise on my skin like a warning sign.

A person snatches both of our attentions from behind us. This man says, "Excuse me, sir, but do you know this lady?"

Thank God, I think as the man and I face a stranger.

The stranger is huge, with a light brown crew cut that is short on the sides and fades into longer hair at the top. He's huge— 6'2 and all muscle. He appears to be a couple years older than me, with thin lips and wild green eyes.

"No, but she's a little drunk. I'm just making sure she gets home safely." The man gripping my arm replies reassuringly.

The newcomer hesitates. Then, he peers down at me. "Ma'am, do you trust this man?"

It takes me a second to shake my head because my mind is all jumbled, but when I do the man holding me lets me go. "You know what, lady? I was trying to help, but fuck you."

He charges off, and I nearly topple over. I'm so unbalanced and my head is throbbing. I just want to go home.

The nice stranger catches me, allowing me to balance. He chuckles, saying, "You are wasted, aren't you?"

"I think he roofied me." I tell the man, my words all running together. "I need to call the police."

"You're fine now." He reassures me. "But if you'd like to, I'll call them up."

I glance into his eyes, and I see his certainty. "It's fine. I just want to go home."

"Okay." He nods, guiding me outside. "Do you live nearby?"

I nod, but my mind is getting worse. Confusion settles over me as I fear that maybe I don't live close.

Do I? Is this my favorite bar, or a different one?

I grab my head with my free hand, a headache pulsing from under my skin. "Jesus."

The man frowns as he flags down a cab in the chilly night air. "Are you alright ma'am?"

"Fine." I lie, my stomach churning horribly.

I'm suddenly glad this man is with me. I wouldn't make it home alone on the streets.

A cab screeches to a halt beside us, and the stranger's green eyes flicker with joy. "Ah, here we go. Slide on inside."

I follow his command, but as soon as I stumble to get my seatbelt on, I realize something that makes sickness rise in my stomach.

I told him I live nearby. I don't need a cab.

The stranger grins as he slides inside the vehicle with me. He automatically tells the driver where to go, and the cab lurches off the side of the road.

He doesn't know my address. Where is he taking me?

He smiles down at me when he sees my worry. My body feels so horrible, and I want to just scream, but my mouth is no longer working. My heart isn't either.

The man gently pulls me close and lets my head rest on his shoulder. But as he pulls his hand away, I realize he accidentally rubs something wet under my nose. It's sweet-smelling and immediately makes my eyes droop.

Oh, shit. He's the one who drugged me.

I need to tell the driver right now!

I open my lips, nothing but a desperate breath escaping me. The man who I rest on wears the most taunting grin of all as he says, "Oh, honey. Close your eyes. You look awful tonight."

And then he reaches down and closes my eyes for me in the most gentle way—it sends shivers down my spine.

The problem is, I can't open them back up.

Whatever he did to me is going to knock me out.

I open my mouth again, but I feel his large hand shut it. "Shh... Time to rest now."

•••

My eyes open to darkness. My heart beats evenly, safeness surrounding me as my eyes adjust and I realize I am home.

My mom isn't here, but it must be early afternoon because light dimly filters through my windows.

I blink away a horrible headache as I wonder to myself what on earth I did last night to get this bad of a headache.

I sit up, and then confusion whacks me in the face.

Wait—wasn't I in London? How did I get home?

My brain aches as I try to recall. After a few minutes, I remember part of the flight home. It's so blurry, though, like it was just a dream.

And then what did I do after I landed?

Did I come straight home?

My brow furrows as I sit up. I must've gotten drunk or something because I haven't had a headache like this since I turned twenty one.

I shake my head at myself in disappointment. I should've just come straight home. What was I thinking?

I take the covers off me and shuffle around through the dimness. I glance down, barely able to see myself.

I'm still in my clothes. Was I too drunk to change?

And... And is that vomit on my clothes?

I make it to the bathroom and flip on the light, only to have my heart drop directly into my gut.

Vomit isn't on my clothes. Blood is.

Blood is everywhere.

Blood stains my hair and my skin on every inch of me it seems like. My neck and hands and legs and arms are all doused in the dark crimson liquid.

What the fuck did I do last night?

The four walls of my bathroom begin closing in around me.

Did I kill someone?

My heart races right out of my chest as I rush forward and shove my hands under the sink. The bloody substance barely washes away, and it stains the counter.

A metallic odor strikes me, and I can do nothing but surge toward the toilet and vomit. Oh, my stomach dislikes all of my confusion.

I vomit over and over again, my throat stinging and eyes watering.

While I'm bent over, I ask myself, If I didn't kill someone, how did I get blood all over myself?

My gut sinks.

I had to have killed someone.

It's the only answer. How else would've I gotten home safely?

Or maybe it's my blood? Am I dying?

I rip off all of my clothes, jumping in the shower as soon as I start the water. It's freezing, but I take the pain as I scrub my body from top to bottom. Blood runs off my skin and swirls down the drain.

I scrub my body until there's no blood left, and until I have an answer.

I'm not bleeding. This isn't my blood.

But it's a shit ton of blood. Whoever's it is, is dead.

I killed someone.

The water trickling down my skin is ice-cold, so when I slip out of the shower I am trembling. I can't feel my heart—it's somewhere in the drain, drowning with the crimson substance.

Numbly, I dry off and wipe the counters down.

Then, I grab my phone off my nightstand and dial up Ethan.

He picks up on the second ring, saying, "Hey. Did you make it in okay?"

"Y-Yeah." I say, so many questions rolling around in my head.

"Good." Ethan replies. "Cause I heard Ajax kicked you off their flight. I'm sorry about that. He can be a dick when he's angry."

"He's fine. It was my fault." I tell Ethan, and he pauses.

"Don't let him get in your head." He says smoothly. "It's not your fault. Trust me."

I do trust him, but I know he's wrong. I just say, "Okay." Not having it in me to argue.

"Yeah, so do you want to grab dinner tonight? I was thinking that we could go on that date." He says, his voice cracking. The ends of my lips lift slightly, excitement entering my numb heart.

"Yeah. Let's do it." I tell him.

"Okay." The happiness that sprouts on the other side of the line brings lightness to the air around me.

I wrap my arms around my naked body. "Is this a wear-your-heels kind of event?"

"Damn right it is." He chuckles, and my cheeks turn rosy. He knows I love wearing heels and getting all prettied up. Maybe it will help me get my mind off... whatever... happened last night.

I mean, I called him to ask him if he knew anything about me being all bloody, but if he hasn't seen me since I've landed, he wouldn't know.

The only person who supposedly knows what happened last night is me, but I don't remember a damned thing.

"Alright. See you then." Ethan replies, and I nod like he can see me.

Sheepishly, I reply. "See yah."

•••

I stare at Jerome's office door. It's been closed for the past fifteen minutes, and I've been frozen like a statue. Really, all I want to do is bolt out of here, go home, and not deal with any of this drama today, but I need to tell him that I quit.

I killed someone, and that's unacceptable. That's unbelievable. That's—horrible. I... I can't go on like this. Maybe, Ethan and I can go on dates later, but I can't be a part of this team.

I'm going to miss Tony's charm, Drake's stubbornness, Felix's kindness, and Ajax's sarcasm, but I have to let them go.

I can't kill people. That's not who I am.

And I almost got Felix killed. I can't put any of them in danger. I can't be a liability.

I raise my hand to knock on the door, but it remains still when I realize I hear voices on the other side of it.

"That's a crazy story, Felix." Jerome is saying, shuffling around somewhere. "You should've shot her right away. Why didn't you?"

"Because I didn't want to." Felix replies. "I wanted to give the woman a chance."

Jerome goes silent for a moment, and Ajax's raspy voice fills the silence. "And because Vanessa mentioned something about us giving people chances."

I can hear Jerome sigh. "Do you think this is because of Vanessa? She's my daughter, but I won't have her endangering this team."

Felix's response is immediate. "No, sir. It was my decision not to pull the trigger."

There's another moment of silence. Jerome says, "Ajax, what do you think?"

I close my eyes, letting out a shaky breath. I know exactly what he thinks.

"It is her fault." Ajax says aloud. "No doubt about it."

Jerome says, "Okay, then I will have to fire her."

My heart drops.

Now, I have no choice but to leave this team.

Then, out of the stiff silence, Ajax says, "But sir, she also saved Felix. If Felix wouldn't have gotten a blood transfusion from me, he would've died, and that was Vanessa's idea."

Felix's voice is abruptly cheery as he adds on. "And she made sure nobody tried to dig the bullet out. I could've died if someone tried that."

The air goes quiet until Jerome says, "Okay. Then, she keeps a spot on the team. Do you both agree with that?"

"Yes, sir." Felix replies.

I'm waiting for Ajax to say no when he says, "Keeping her on the team would be a risk. A risk I don't want to take."

My heart stops working as I take a stuttering step back. He doesn't want to give me a chance? Not even one?

Jerome is saying, "Do you think it's fair to do a team vote?"

"I do think that's fair." Ajax replies, and Jerome says something in return until Ajax cuts him off. "But there's no point in summoning them. There will be a vote to keep her on."

"Why is that?" Jerome asks.

"Because they support her and see past her mistakes. But none of them stared death in the face and understood who was the person to blame." Ajax's tone is serious, and it breaks my heart.

Felix chimes up. "She's not to blame, Jerome. She's just a good person with a good heart who wanted to give people chances to be saved. That's who she is."

"Exactly why she's bad for this team, Jerome." Ajax fires back, but even though they're addressing Jerome, it sounds like the two are arguing. "She's a good person. A good person shouldn't be on this team. Only people who can handle the hard truth."

"She handled it. She just didn't like it." Felix fires back. "And she wanted to help."

"Nobody asked for her fucking help." Ajax says.

I lift a hand to my mouth, my lips trembling. I'm breaking this team up. No, no, no.

"We need it sometimes." Felix tells his brother.

"Boys." Jerome's stern voice cuts through the conversation. "Let's agree to disagree. Sorry, Ajax, but I'm going to give her another chance, and if you don't like my choice, see my superior. Good day, boys."

I back away from the door when footsteps grow loud. Panicking, I bolt until I'm out of the hallway and ramming right into someone. It's a stranger, and I quickly apologize before picking up speed again and racing to get outside.

I'm breathless as I make it to the sidewalk.

If Ajax doesn't have faith in me, why should I?

I close my eyes, recalling the blood.

No, I don't have faith in me.