His Return, My Ruin
For a heartbeat, I allowed myself the ugly, honest pleasure of seeing the predator become the prey.
Isaac rolled onto his side, coughing up a spray of crimson that ruined his pristine blue shirt. His nose was a jagged mess, shifted unnaturally to the left. Jaden dropped to one knee, the fabric of his designer jacket straining against his broad shoulders as he rained down a series of short, clinical punches. They weren't flashy; they were efficient. Each blow was a calculated sentence of retribution.
This was the Jaden I had buried in my memories—the machine of war, the man who knew exactly how much pressure it took to break a human spirit. He looked possessed, a silver-eyed demon of my own m
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