Even then, surrounded by the peers he had conditioned to know him as the cold-hearted creature he instinctively was, he couldn’t keep his face from cringing. His expression tugged back in a permanent flinch as he watched his girl, slipping into the never ending nothing. He wanted to change her, but he couldn’t—he wouldn’t. If it came between her neck and his, he’d save his own, but it didn’t change the depth to which he felt for her.
Ruth, terrified, held onto her, still quite bent on the idea that she could make it through. She blatantly ignored James’ soft words, believing her to be more than just a dead body after death. She was still Aly—her life wasn’t there, but it was there.
Just when Ruth went to take a deep breath, to relax and reassure her, she died. Simeon’s facial struggle dropped and he looked the other direction. Ruth gawked down at her still face, waiting for something to happen—to hear her heart again. It never came.
Vera immediately attacked Simeon, and he glared over at her with his jaw tight. His eyes were steely. Ruth continued to stare down at Aly, brushing her matted hair.
“You insolent, mewling quim,” Simeon hissed. Then, beyond his better judgment, he lashed out, grabbed her by the throat and pinned her up against the side of the mammoth building. No doubt she could take him down, what with her impressive age, but he wasn’t looking to win. “You do not know the first thing about this—all of this!”
He paused, leaned in closer, and bared his teeth. “You’re not one to judge, when your own state is corrupt.”
He pounded her against the wall then took a few large steps back with his long limbs. “Warren was the one who had me kill Ruth,” he stated boldly.
Ruth finally looked up.
“He arranged the entire affair,” he claimed. “We struck a deal. I kill Ruth on his behalf, he give me something in return.”