She shrugs my way. “Whatever you need, whenever. I’m yours.” She takes off, and Rory tells the driver to take her to the estates.
“The estates?” I bet she forgot where she lives, and now I’m wondering just how much champagne she’s had.
“Yup.” She pulls a mirror out of her purse, reapplies a fresh coat of shimmering pink gloss, and gives her wild mane a quick tickle with her fingers before snapping her gaze my way, her affect suddenly blunted and cold. “I thought I’d pop in and see the boys.” She gives a quick wink.
The boys are at the Landon house at the moment, in the room next to the one she’s sleeping in. It’s not a shocker she doesn’t notice. My mother and Logan have been doing all the heavy lifting. And when no one is looking, I’ve been sneaking them juice boxes, hugs, and kisses—much to Chloe’s chagrin. But I don’t say a word to wayward Rory. I’m not calling her out. Nope. In fact, I’m eager to see what she’s up to.
The driver drops her off in front of Emma and Barron’s house and speeds away. I wait until we’re around the bend before asking him to let me out as well.
It’s icy out. The fog lies over the island like sporadic webbing, and the air holds the scent of fresh ozone, letting us know the promise of rain is imminent.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a text from Ezrina.
Done it. Your afterbirth aged just right has become the panacea we’ve needed to hide the markers permanently. Wes says we put this formula into the vault. Consider it done. Sleep tight, my friend.
“It’s done.” I pant out a smile. I shove my phone back into my pocket and brush all thoughts of this new victory to the side a moment. Rory is out on the sexual prowl, and I need to put the kibosh on this good time before things get coital between her and Gage.
I do my best to cling to the bushes, ducking in the deepest shadows that night has to offer. Rory is wily, so I need to outplay her at every turn. I crest the bend just in time to see the lights flicker on in the old Walsh house, my house, the one that the monster who was once Gage Oliver resides in.
“Oh my God,” I say as a plume of white fog dances from my mouth. She’s paying him a visit. I highly doubt they’re about to plot their next move. And I can testify that she has enough hard liquor in her to give the Factions right back to him in my own skin. But I have a suspicion she’s giving something else away entirely. My body.
My feet carry me in that direction at a quickened clip.
She has no damn right to do that.
He has zero right to even look at my body, let alone have his way with it.
This is rape.
This is an outrage.
I’ll take them both to the mat with the Justice Alliance.
A deep-welled anger bubbles up inside of me. This is a massacre of my person, of my privileges, of both my human and Nephilim rights. How dare my mother look the other way.
Damn bitch.
A shard of lightning jags its way to the island, touching the field just shy of the Harrisons’ estate.
I race up to the red door that I loved so much, and now I see it for what it’s stood for all along—rage. The doorknob won’t move. I’d bust it down with my foot, but I’m going for something a little more dramatic.
Whoa, Messenger. I just woke up and this is what I find? Tread lightly. I don’t need my face rearranged by your twisted twat of a sister. I work hard to retain my youthful glow.
A dark huff of a laugh escapes me.Don’t worry, Chloe. We’re the ones doing the rearranging in this scenario.
A blue flicker of light catches my eye near the olive tree sitting in the middle of the front lawn. Twin electric blue butterflies swim in and out of its branches as if beckoning me to it. I head over and implore all the anger, all of the Celestra strength that Chloe has to offer as I do my best to kick it down. After three good thrusts with my legs, a satisfying snap erupts. I tear the damn thing from the ground, lifting clots of dirt along with it and I waste no time in charging for the door.
A horrific scream erupts from me as I crash the tree, roots first, into the door, and red splinters shoot off in every direction as the door that once brought me so much joy gets decimated into matchsticks.
Take my house and defile it, and I will burn it to ash.
I will destroy my own body before Gage gets to have his way with it once more. My God, they’ve probably made this a nightly event ever since Logan cut her off. She’s so damn randy.
I’ll give her something to get excited about.
“Shit!” Gage’s voice comes from somewhere deep in the house, and I leap frog over the branches and split wood to find them both standing at the mouth of the living room ogling my way with a look of clear shock.
Their clothes are still on, but their hair is a little mussed so I’m not letting them off the hook so easily. They were probably just getting started.
