Sink With Me

“Moe?” Karma’s grip tightens with a shaky breath. “But you–you said you put him somewhere safe?” Her words fade into the deafening sound of blood pounding in my ears.

Date: 5-17-2024

Time: 0721

I can’t breathe.

Red.

There’s so much of it; it stains Sam’s clothes as applies pressure to his wound; it wraps Dutton’s knuckles; it streaks Cordelia’s skin, and it clouds my vision.

There’s a ringing in my ears, making it hard to hear Dutton and Karmas bickering while I reel from everything.

Never underestimate your enemy. I did worse than that. I let a siren lure me in with a sweet song I thought was meant only for my ears. She should’ve just killed me. It would’ve been easier.

“What do you mean?” Moe’s shaking voice snaps me from my haze, tearing my eyes away from Sharkie to where he’s standing firm with a pistol in his hand. Karmas distracted, fully focused on the being that looks so similar to her, pressing the blade deeper into Cordelia’s throat making the stream quicken. He wasn’t supposed to see her. I’ve tried so hard to keep this hidden.

Fucking red.

Slowly, I tilt my weapon away from Dutton in Cordelia’s direction. Even in the low lighting, I can make out the bruises that line her skin and the ash that sticks to her fatigues. Her chest heaves, desperate to take in some air as each drop of cells stream down the blade tainting Karma’s hand only to fall back onto my siren’s body.

She deserves every second of everything to come.

She could’ve told me. It would’ve been a hard pill to swallow, but I would’ve done it. For her. I would’ve understood, I could’ve forgiven her and ended all of this with her by my side. A loud crack of thunder pulls me from my thoughts to focus on the small tremble in her body.

I should’ve killed her.

The shot cries out, creating yet another mess that has spots erupting in my vision, making me lightheaded. If she is ever going to hurt, it’ll be by my hands and mine alone.

“Moe.” Dutton whispers, and my hand tightens around my pistol as I cock a new bullet into the chamber slowly turning it back in his direction. “I know you were young, but we loved you.” He continues crouching to set his gun on the ground. I align mine with his head. Dutton raises his hands into the air in surrender, but he doesn’t deserve mercy. How does he even dare to say he ever once loved him when he threw him on our front porch without a second thought? He doesn’t know love or else he’d be as broken as I am.

“Look at her. Look at what he did to your mother.” Dutton barks. My head jerks in Moe’s direction, locking eyes on the way his hand shakes causing his other to join it.

“Put it down.” Moe yells at me, darting the weapon in my area and my already tense shoulders tighten. Not him. Cordelia slides subtly against the concrete floor from where her body toppled over, her shoulders shifting drawing my attention to the movement. The knife Karma was using is missing, so I can only assume she’s trying to get free.

“Okay, settle down. It’s okay.” I speak calmly, lowering my pistol to the ground, standing, mirroring Dutton’s movements. “Breathe Moe, remember what mum used to tell us? Calm, cool–”

“Your mom! Not mine. My–” He stutters, darting his line of sight over to the flaming red hair sprawled across the floor, then back to us. “Mine is dead. You’re not my brother, so stop acting like it, Caspian.” Each word he says raises in volume, swaying with the unsteady stance of his body. I should’ve told him the moment I found her file connected to Dutton’s, he was old enough to understand. I couldn’t though, not with her connection to my siren and mainly because I’m selfish. He’s all I had for the longest time; I didn’t want to lose him to the wrong side.

“Go on, boy!” Dutton yells, and Cordelia stops moving. Moe brushes a hand through his hair, disheveling the already chaotic mess. Her lip’s part to speak, but I shake my head. There are too many voices in his head right now. I can see the internal battle raging in his head with every shift of his facial features. I already knew what she was going to say, just like she should know how I feel. Judging by the shine in those deep blue depths, I know she does. I always said I wanted to make my mark on her, but it wasn’t her skin I wanted to bear my brand.

Taking a deep breath, I draw Moe’s attention to the movement. He grips the handle hard enough his knuckles turn white, raising his hand to slide a bullet into the chamber, refusing to let his gaze stray from the steady rise and fall of my chest. Nodding my head, I accept the motion. I always said he learned fast. I’m proved right when his breathing calms and his facial features harden. I don’t see the man beside me or the woman lying on the cold concrete floor when he studies the target straightening his shoulders; I see all the early mornings filled with breakfast by my mother’s bedside while she smiled ear to ear at hearing his newest accomplishments. I see the crinkles in the corner of his eyes mirroring my father’s when we wrestled in the sand.

“You’re right. She wasn’t your mom, but you’ve always been my family. Blood or not.”

A high-pitched whine fades into a broken sob, and I flinch, reliving every bat of lashes over ocean eyes, nimble fingers tracing scarred skin early in the mornings when it was assumed I was asleep, stifled laughs, and stern glances.

How can something so destructive be so beautiful?

“Caspian?” The soft voice calls me home, just like it always has. Opening my eyes, I run my hand down my chest expecting to feel a warm wet heat coat my fingers only to find the rigid outline of my vest. An audible breath of relief comes somewhere from my right, but I focus on the stiff body ahead of me.

Moe stands with his shoulders straight and his breathing heavy. Blood pools around my boots from where it’s rapidly flooding out of Dutton’s chest. I hate how fast he’s had to grow before he had the chance to be a kid. Taking a deep breath, I move slowly to pick up my weapon and tuck it into the back of my pants, praying he doesn’t get trigger-happy.

“Are you okay?” I ask quietly, and those gray eyes dart between mine with each step I take closer to him. I’m not concerned about the little fish. She could’ve killed me, she could’ve killed him knowing she broke free long before anyone could notice, but she didn’t. Moe nods, lowering the pistol, giving me enough leeway to clasp a hand on his shoulder and force his focus on me.

“I’m going to tell you what our father told me the first time I ever killed a man, okay?” I whisper, pausing to pull the gun from between his fingers.

“You need to learn that no matter what, this blood will forever stain your hands now. No matter how many times you wash them, it’ll always be there. This is what it’s going to take to keep the world safe. Harmony if you will…” I can’t help but smile through the words, feeling as if my father is saying them to me again.