Chapter 11: Pieces of the Past
The letter was heavier than it should have been. Every letter was like a sword cutting into me as Veronica's calligraphy moved gracefully in loops and curves across the page.
I apologize.
I couldn't breathe because it kept repeating in my head like a broken record.
The cold night air did nothing to relieve the oppressive weight on my chest as I sat on Lucas's cottage porch. Even the moon's light seemed empty as it hung low, smearing silver striations over the black sky.
"She is no longer there."
The words, which tasted harsh on my mouth, spilled out before I could stop them.
Lucas sat next to me, his wide shoulders tight and quiet. He just peered into the darkness as if it contained answers we couldn't locate, without saying anything at first.
He spoke after a while. "I don't think so."
With burning eyes, I turned to face him. "What?"
His face was inscrutable as he looked into my eyes. "Veronica was a persistent person."
I felt a glimmer of optimism, or maybe denial. "But the note—"
"Could have been forged," he interrupted. "Or coerced."
My heart was racing as I swallowed hard. Although I had considered it, it seemed true to hear Lucas speak it out.
"What are you saying?" I muttered.
He put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. I'm suggesting that we need answers. actual ones.
I experienced anything other than sadness for the first time since receiving the letter. Willpower.
"Where should we begin?"
Lucas gave me a quick look, his eyes piercing and black. "Her last known location."
---
We were standing outside Veronica's former apartment the next morning. The structure was dilapidated; the windows were dirty and the brickwork were chipped. The Veronica I knew didn't feel like her.
My fingers lingered over the doorknob as I halted at the door.
"Are you alright?" Lucas questioned quietly.
Even though I wasn't certain, I nodded.
The apartment was chilly and empty inside. Every surface was covered with dust, and Veronica's favorite perfume, lavender, hung like a ghost.
Lucas began to walk carefully and intently as he searched the cramped area. I trailed after, tracing the edges of her desk with my fingertips as I turned through books and papers. It didn't seem right.
Until I discovered the picture.
It lay wrinkled and faded under a pile of old magazines. Veronica was standing next to an unfamiliar guy with towering, pointed features and black eyes that were filled with an unidentified substance.
My heart skipped a beat.
"Lucas," I called.
In a matter of seconds, he stood beside me, his eyes darting to the picture. He clenched his jaw.
"Who is he?" I inquired.
Lucas took a while to respond. Then he said, "That's Darius Black."
I was shivering at the name.
Lucas went on, "He's with the Golden Claw Pack." Or was. He allegedly went renegade last year.
I looked at the photo. Veronica had a sincere grin, yet there was something strange about her eyes. I had never previously sensed this tension.
How come she would be with him?
Lucas tightened his jaw. "We're going to discover that."
---
Following the narrow path Darius had left behind, we were in the center of the city by late afternoon. Underground clubs and bars were locations where people knew too much and didn't ask questions.
Eventually, we located a bartender with keen eyes and an even sharper tongue.
Wiping down the counter, he said, "Are you looking for Darius?"
A couple of bills were slid over the bar by Lucas. "All we want to do is talk."
The guy gave a snort. I wish you success in your endeavor. He's hiding out along the docks, as far as I've heard. dislikes having company.
Lucas nodded firmly, and we departed.
The weight in my chest increased as we continued to walk. I was tormented by Veronica's laugh, her defiance, and her unwavering belief that she could manage anything.
However, what if she was unable to?
"What happens if it is too late?" My voice could hardly be heard above the cacophony of the city as I spoke.
Lucas paused and faced me. "We're not." I was grounded when his hand briefly touched mine. "We'll discover the reality. I swear.
Clinging to his words like a lifeline, I nodded.
---
The air was heavy with secrets and salt, and the docks were silent. We approached the deserted warehouse where Darius was allegedly hiding with caution, the darkness engulfing us.
Lucas motioned me to remain back with a raised hand. He advanced soundlessly, his footsteps hardly audible.
My heart was racing as I waited, and every second seemed to drag on forever.
Then there was a shout. A battle.
I didn't consider it. I just ran.
Darius's arm was pressed over Lucas's neck as he was pushed against the wall inside the warehouse.
I immediately picked up a corroded metal pipe from the ground and swung. Darius fell back with a growl as it struck his side.
Lucas quickly got back up and tackled him to the ground. Fists flying, they fought until Lucas gained the upper hand and pinned Darius to the ground.
"Where is Veronica?" I stood over them and demanded.
With blood dripping from the corner of his lips, Darius chuckled. "Do you believe she is the victim?"
My breath caught.
"What do you mean?"
He rasped, "You don't realize how deep she was in." "Veronica wasn't just a naive young woman who happened to be in the wrong place."
I grabbed his collar and knelt. "Tell me."
His grin was dark and twisted. She and I were collaborating. We intended to eliminate both packs.
His words struck me like a slap, and I froze.
"That is untrue," I muttered.
"Is it?" His smile became bigger. She desired authority. And she understood.
Lucas aggressively hauled him up. "Where is she?"
Darius' smile dimmed. "It's too late."
My heart stopped beating.
"What do you mean?" I suffocated.
With a malicious glimmer in his eyes, he drew closer.
"She is still alive. You'll wish she was, however, when you discover her.
The words reverberated in my head, icy and definitive.
Veronica was still alive.
However, she wasn't the sister I believed to be mine.