The Pretty Psycho (St. Vasili’s Academy #2)

22. Vega

22

VEGA

Yolanda found me sitting on the floor, staring at the cracks on its surface, looking like a fucking ghost. Or at least that's what she said and how she described it. My mind was a foggy mess as she helped me up and led me out toward the bathroom, where she practically started drowning me in cold water, until I came back to my senses, capable of stringing together a proper sentence.

Now I wished she had just left me on that floor because thinking about what happened was not on my list of priorities. Hell, it wasn't something I even wanted to remember, not even a little bit. The fact that it still felt like something in my chest kept cracking, all the while Yolanda kept looking at me as if I would completely break any moment now, bothered me. It fucked with my head because I didn't want to be this person.

This weak.

This indecisive.

I couldn't blame Adrian for giving up on me. I couldn't blame him for telling me all the hard truths I really didn't want to hear. I was a coward. I was the worst kind of coward who couldn't let him go, but I also didn't know how to be with him without letting go of all these fucked-up thoughts inside my head.

I had no idea how to stop running.

I didn't mind taking on people twice my size in combat, but emotions… Emotions weren't something I ever had to deal with— I was never taught how —and everything that had happened over the span of the last couple of weeks was related to emotions. It would've been easier, and it was easier, when I simply knew what my mission was and who my target was.

This… This shit wasn't easy. Not even a little bit.

"Are you going to say something?" Yolanda finally spoke after what felt like an eternity of silence. I was sitting on top of the sink, staring at the ceiling as if it could give me the answers on what I should do. "Or will you keep ignoring the fact that I practically found you in a catatonic state?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, tough luck, buttercup. We are going to talk." My eyes cut to her, narrowing at the pissed-off look on her face. "I heard what happened."

"I said," I jumped from the sink and tried pushing past her toward the door, "I don't want to talk."

"Oh, you will." She pushed me back, surprising me beyond measure. "You're going to fucking listen, Vega, even if it's the last thing you do. And I swear to God, if you try to leave, I'll find a way to torture you. Somehow. There must be something you're not immune to."

My eyes widened, shocked by this version of Yolanda that I hadn't had a chance to see before.

"Now, I'm still pretty much hungover and having to deal with this shit is not something I had foreseen when I woke up this morning, but alas, we're here. So, you’re going to listen." She leaned against the door, her eyes glaring, filled with so much anger.

She was fully fucking pissed off.

"Why are you so angry with me?" I asked, unable to understand what was happening.

"Because you're a motherfucking idiot, okay? Because you have a man who would die for you, and what do you do, Vega? You run and run and fucking run. Isn't it tiring constantly running, dude? Isn't it tiring constantly trying to escape the things that do not suit your agenda?"

"Fuck. You," I seethed. She had no idea what it was like. She had no idea what it was like living inside the head that always whispered those dark thoughts, making me think I would never amount to anything. "You've no idea what you're talking about."

"You think!" she blasted, her eyes turning wild. "Do you really think you're the only one who was dealt a shitty hand in life, huh? Do you really fucking think that your past gives you an excuse to fuck up your entire future?" I… I had no idea. Fucking fuck.

I had no idea.

"You don't know anything," I mumbled. "And you don't get to talk to me about past fuckups when you haven't lived my life."

"No," she shook her head, "I haven't lived your life. But I have lived mine. I have been part of a family that didn't want me because my biological mother was not my father's wife." Holy shit. "I have been pushed around, molded to fit their image, spat at, cursed, beaten up, and fucked over in ways that you could never imagine." She was livid now, her anger erupting out of her with each word. "Our pasts might be different, but make no mistake, Vega—we're more similar than you might imagine. I might not be a professional assassin, and maybe I haven't been tasked with the things you were, but my burden is not lesser than yours just because you think you get the right to pity yourself every step of the way!"

Holy mother fuck.

Was that what I was doing? Moaning about my fucked-up life while thinking that I was this powerful person.

"Yolanda—"

"Na-uh, girl. Sit the fuck down and listen to me, because it is obvious that your stubborn ass needs to hear things this way." I obliged immediately, almost scared of her when she was like this.

In all the time I’d known her, which granted, wasn't as long as it sometimes felt, she had never reacted like this. Not to anything.

"Now." She took a deep breath, calming herself down. "I'd heard what happened earlier today." The tears automatically rushed to my eyes, threatening to spill simply because I could still see that image of Adrian and the girl in an embrace. "And I'm here to tell you that you're a motherfucking idiot."

"W-What?" I stammered.

"You're an idiot. For someone so smart, you can sometimes be so fucking stupid."

"I'm not stupid," I bit out. "He was kissing her."

"Was he?" She arched her eyebrow, her blonde hair flying around as she kept pacing from the left to right, across the bathroom. "Or was that what you wanted to believe, because it's easier leaving him if you tell yourself he's someone who would cheat on you or he's someone who doesn't care."

"That's not?—"

"No!" she screamed. "I am talking now and you're listening, and so help me God, do not fucking interrupt me."

I gulped audibly, unable to take my eyes off her. Who was this and what happened to soft and sweet Yolanda? Did I piss her off that much that she had to resort to this?

"The truth is, Vega, that you're so terrified of happiness you would do anything to keep living in the dark." Her words felt like punches straight to the center of my body, because even as I started shaking my head, trying to deny it, deep down I knew she was right. "You can deny it, shake your head, do whatever the fuck you want, but you are terrified of being happy. Because being happy means it could be taken away from you at any moment, especially in this fucked-up world we're living in, so instead of embracing it, instead of fighting for it, you're pushing it away, because you are so used to the darkness that it feels like your best fucking friend now instead of something you should fear."

"No," I mumbled, feeling my tears rolling down. "That's not… That's not true."

"Oh, but it is," she laughed darkly. "You know how I know? Because we're all doing the same thing! It doesn't matter what kind of fucked-up shit we went through, we're all so comfortable in the darkness that we would do anything to keep on drowning in that black tar instead of trying to push out and breathe that clear air. You." She pointed at me. "You have a guy who would literally die for you. You have a guy who would let you go if that made you happy, even if it meant complete heartbreak for him."

"Stop," I murmured. "Please, stop."

"Truth hurts, doesn't it?" she spat out. "I saw the surveillance footage, Vega. He was fucking pushing her away before you pulled her off of him. He pushed her and tried explaining to you, but what did you do? You ran off like your ass was on fire."

"Fuck you!"

"No, thank you!" She was breathing heavily, frustrated, angry, and I felt the same. She had no right to tell me all these things. She didn't know. She had no idea.

"You're so fucking stubborn, Vega, that you don't see the good thing in front of you. You're so fucking stubborn that you would rather push him away and fuck yourself up, rather than let him in and show him that the fear you feel is because you love him. You love him, you idiot."

"No!" I yelled out. "I don't love him." I couldn’t.

"Yes, you do."

"No!" I shrieked, my voice breaking. "I can't. I can't love him. I can't fucking love him!"

She pushed and pushed, until I could no longer take it. The box was open, the contents spilling out, and as if she knew which buttons to push, she managed to let me feel it all. And I hated feeling it all.

I hated feeling anything related to my mother, to my past, to Adrian.

"I was all alone!" I yelled. "I was all alone because she left me. She left me with them. She let them take me." My heart hammered in my chest violently, trying to escape my own body. "She left me with those monsters and then she died."

"There we go. Let it out, Vega. You're angry at your mother, aren't you? You're so fucking angry."

"Yes!" I spat out. "I hate her and I love her and I can't love Adrian because he would leave as well." There it was. The unspoken truth; the unspoken fear of mine.

Not many people got to experience my love, but the ones that did turned out to be the ones that had left me or had fucked me over. And I didn't want Adrian to be on that list.

"I can't have him only to lose him." I closed my eyes. "I can't."

"But don't you see?" she said, making me look at her. "You're already losing him, Vega. You're already pushing him away, punishing him, when it isn't his fault. He loves you, you idiot. He fucking loves you and you're punishing him for his love."

Was that what I was doing?

Oh my God. My hand flew to my mouth as the realization slammed into me like a freight train.

I was selfish. I hadn’t tried to understand him and see how my behavior could affect him. This whole time I’d been repeating the 'me, me, me' pattern, only thinking about self- preservation, fucking with his mind. I understood his reaction now. I understood Yolanda's reaction.

I was terrified of happiness, she was right. I was terrified of having it and then losing it. I was so fucking scared that this special little thing I could have with him would be stolen from me, which could destroy me. I wasn't strong enough for something like that to happen. I wasn't strong enough to feel and accept his love, only to have it taken from me.

"I'm sorry," I cried, sobbing, my vision turning blurry. "I fucked up."

"Well, I think both of you fucked up," she said unabashedly. “Look,” she said seriously. “I think you both have a lot of things to work through, but you gotta stop pushing each other. He’s pushing, you’re pulling, and then you switch those roles. It’s like a game you’re playing and I don’t think it’s healthy. I don’t think it’s sustainable.”

We were playing games. We were both fucking it all up, weren’t we?

"I need to find him," I said, jumping off of the sink. "I need to fix this. Help me find him."

"I can't," she mumbled.

"What do you mean you can't?" I didn't like the look on her face. I didn't like the fact that she looked to the side, as if she wanted to hide something from me.

"Your brother sent me to find you, Vega, because the rest of them were going into Wolfhole. A package was sent to the Academy. A package for Adrian."

"Oh no."

"His father has one of the teams, Vega," she murmured, her eyes plastered to the wall. "He has the Russian team held hostage and he wants Adrian to come into town."

"Please tell me he didn't go alone," I said, taking a step closer to her. "Please."

She looked at me, shaking her head. "He left shortly after reading the message. Jax, Dante, Arseniy, Vin, and Dimitri all followed after him, but I can't be sure that they caught up with him. He apparently snuck out and… Where the fuck are you going?"

I pushed by her and headed straight for the door. There was no time to spare, no fucking time to waste on talking about inconsequential things.

"Vega!" Yolanda called after me as I sprinted down the hallway and toward the armory. "Where the fuck are you going?"

"I'm going into town," I said, taking the tactical uniform off its hanger before removing my shirt and pants. "Are you coming?"

"Uh," she stammered. "I don't know if I'll be any good for this."

"For what?" I asked, putting on the uniform. "The combat?"

"Yeah?" She was eyeing all the different weapons, knives, and uniforms laying around. "I don't want to slow you down."

"You're not going to slow me down," I said, taking the car keys from the top drawer in the massive desk taking up the midsection of the room and tossing them to her. "But I need you to drive." Yolanda caught the keys, the look on her face almost comical as I took several knives and strapped them to my thighs and into my boots, along with a few guns.

If Adrian went all by himself into town, without waiting for the rest of the guys, then he was walking straight into the trap set by his father and I had a feeling he wasn't thinking clearly. Not right now.

"Vega, what are you going to do when we get there?"

"I'll tell him the truth," I said, as we rushed through the hallways and toward the garage.

"Which is?"

"That I love him." I grinned. I should've told him sooner. I should've told him how scared I was, but I wasn't brave enough before now.

Knowing he could be walking into a trap, though, that sent real fear rocking through my body, and I didn't want to lose him. I couldn't fucking lose him.