“What?” I bark, stilling the axe, wishing it was Emmett’s fucking head I was about to cleave in two.
Kerri, at a safe distance a few feet away, throws up her hands in startlement as she backs away. Her fear pisses me off even more. Of all the people on this whole goddamn planet, she’s the last person I want scared of me. “I’m going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?”
My brows slam together as I pull my mind out of that filthy, roach-infested house. I exhale a frustrated breath and lower the axe.Christ. One swing and I would have killed her. See? This is the reason I’m better alone. Because once the bad shit fucks with my head, it’s over. I’m lost in it. Blinded to everything around me.
I can hurt someone.
Hurt everyone.
“No, I don’t fucking want anything.” I toss the axe to the ground and storm toward the cabin, leaving Kerri bewildered.
Don’t care. Not at this moment, when rage is a cancer inside me. Kerri calls my name, but I ignore it. Ignoreher. I find myself in the bathroom, with her voice adding to the frenzy building, burning. It’s a new layer to my inescapable torment.
“Havoc.” Her voice is barely a whisper from the other side of the door. “Are you okay?”
Goddamnit.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”Fucking liar.I’ve never been fine. Will neverbefine. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself against the sink. “Go away, Kerri.”
Kerri must know I’m full of shit. I couldn’t give less of a fuck as I open my eyes and face my reflection. Stare at the monster I’ve become. The beast my past created. When Discord and I find Emmett—and we’ve been looking—we’re going to kill the motherfucker. Gut him and watch as life slowly pours out of his pathetic body.
Because the only way we’ll find peace is when the devil takes his due and frees us from our demons.
I roll up my left sleeve. With a steady hand, I slip the knife from its sheath looped around my belt. Shame and guilt and relief war inside me as I drag the blade across the flesh of my forearm. The shallow cut isn’t deep, but it provides enough pain to quiet the rage. The thin line weeps into a beautiful mess that drips on the white porcelain sink.
It’s not enough.
Not nearly enough.
Still a prisoner of the past, I slide the blade twice more across my skin. I hiss in a breath when I dig too deep on the second pass.
More.
It’s never deep enough to carve out the memories of what Emmett did to Discord. Of the horrors I witnessed. Of the brutal beatings we suffered. What our mother allowed to happen in her home.
Vomit crawls up my throat when I make a third slice. This one is good. It bleeds out the disgust of how Alice slept beside that man night after night. How she fucked him after he…
Sheer force of will stops my hand from making a fourth cut. But barely. I drop the knife in the sink. It hits the porcelain with a clatter, and when I spin, my fist hovering in the air inches from the drywall, I pull back because I don’t need Kerri to hear me punch a hole in the wall.
Not that I need to explain myself to her. I don’t answer to my brother, to my friends, or even to Crow.
No-fucking-one.
So why do I hide the damage I do to myself like it’s shameful?
Because it’s private. Mine, and for me alone.
Given how the Death Star is a safe house, there is, of course, a full stock of first aid products. I make use of the antiseptic and gauze. Yank down my sleeve, and by the time I finish, I’ve wiped the bathroom clean and deposited the bloody rag in the laundry bin.
I step out of the bathroom and find Kerri standing in the kitchen eating straight from a package of cookies. She takes my measure, her eyes asking a million questions she doesn’t dare voice. Instead, she holds the bag out to me. “Want one?”
No, but I’m tempted to eat her instead. “Never took you for a binge eater.”
“I’ve spent my entire adult life worrying about staying a size two.” She woofs down another cookie. “If I’m going to die, I might as well enjoy the life I have left.”
Kerri’s casually spoken statement takes a giant shit on my already rotten mood. I demolish the space between us. Slam my palms on the counter, one on each side of her, to cage her. She flinches, and her perfect lips part on a startled breath.
“Do you think I’dallowyou to fucking die? Do you think I’d allow anyone to get close enough to kill you, Duchess?”
