Page 6 of Fatal Fantasy

“Emory General,” he answers, and I nod, racing to Ty’s side, taking his hand in mine.

“I’ll be back, brother. You’re going to be okay,” I whisper, his limp body not responding to my words, but if he’s still in there, I know he heard me.

This may very well be the last time I see my brother alive, but with the war still going on, there’s other people I need to check on.

Racing through the parking lot, I jump in my car, ripping off the paneling until I reach the wires, striking them a few times until the engine roars to life.

Stepping on the gas, I peel down the street with reckless abandon, taking the turns at the highest speed I can possibly go without crashing into a guardrail, my heart thrashing in my chest.

I’m racing toward the smoke, confirming my theory that Carter’s ruthless attack wasn’t just on Emory, but directed at the Masseria’s as a whole.

The gate to my childhood home is blown through, and the beautiful house my mother took pride in decorating is on fire, dark clouds pouring from the second floor windows.

“Dad! Dad, are you here?” I scream, pushing through the front door, and running down the hallway toward his office.

Thankfully, I was able to convince my mother and sisters to leave, and I’m only searching for one body.

A loud crash comes from upstairs, the house starting to cave in on itself, and I will myself to move faster, picking up the pace before finally reaching the office.

A few hours ago, I was ready to leave my father’s Family, to completely erase the Masseria name from my existence, but after an attack of this magnitude, we’re going to have to stick together now more than ever.

“Dad! Call out!” I scream, busting through the door with my shoulder, it popping off the hinges as smoke invades my lungs for the second time tonight.

A window behind his desk is broken, like this exact room was targeted, and it looks like a bomb went off in here.

The two bookshelves are toppled over, the books themselves scattered around and some are smoking, the others on fire.

The desk, chairs, and couch are all singed, but I spot a black loafer under the wreckage, and my heart falls out of my chest.

Only one person wears that specific shoe, and would be sitting on the opposite side of the table, but my hands won’t move quick enough as I throw the debris in every direction.

Just as I suspected, Tyson’s father is laying face down on the ground, and I move closer, pressing two fingers against his pulse point, but after a few seconds I realize he’s gone.

Not only is Tyson on his deathbed, but his dad is dead too, and this night keeps getting fucking worse the more I keep moving.

Still, I can’t stop now, needing to account for everyone, and finally, I see something resembling a body trapped underneath a pile of rubble from the fallen ceiling.

Digging him out is no easy task, but the flashes of this evening’s events race through my mind, and every time I think about Carter, I find another reason to continue on, using my anger as motivation.

“Dad, can you hear me? It’s Junior, it’s your son!” I yell, carefully assessing his body without hurting him any further.

Shutting my eyes, I hold his wrist, praying there’s a pulse, and although it’s faint, it’s there, meaning that there’s a chance someone will survive this night.

Stumbling through the room, I find the landline and call for an ambulance, but the weight of the world lands on my shoulders, and I slide to the floor, holding my head in my hands.

A few hours ago, I was in bed with my entire universe, on the cusp of escaping the madness and running away into the sunset.

Now, there’s nothing but ashes covering the places that were once sacred, and I’m left with only one option: find and kill the person responsible for this – the only person I’ve ever loved.

Carter was the only thing I’ve allowed close enough to hurt me, and I gave her the access to the most important things in my life, allowing her to destroy the very world I was content living in – until she came along.

If this night has a silver lining, it’s that I’m reigniting the obsession of my most fascinating subject, except this time, she won’t be able to fool me.

I’ve seen her true colors, figured out her real motives, and like the coward she is, the only thing she did was run away from the fucking mess she left in her wake.

Behave yourself, little ice princess, because I’m fucking coming for you.

In this motel room, the days blend into the nights, and my eyes never get a chance to fully adjust to the sunlight, as I stare at a computer screen for hours on end, wishing my brother were here to lessen the burden of this tech shit I can never figure out.