“There’ll be an assembly later today, announcing the change in positions as well as honoring your late friend, Peyton was it?”
My jaw ticks, “Pierce, sir.”
“Ah. Yes. Pierce. Such a tragedy.” There’s a gleam in his eyes that doesn’t match his words. Something only those close to him would be able to pick up on. He’s a master at being able to say the right thing, and have people believe him. His put-on charm fooling even the most cynical thinkers.
“Now, in terms of your education, I thought I would pull some strings. It looks like you’ll need to retake your Intro to Business class, and with Peter’s recent passing, there’s a spot open for you.”
“My schedule is already full for the semester.” I grit out, my teeth grinding together as Wrath roils inside my chest, begging to be let out. My mind fills with an image of my hands wrapped around my father’s throat as I squeeze the life out of him. Punishing him for every mark he’s left on my body. Watching as his life fades away as he struggles to breathe. I push aside my fantasy before I loose control, my face heating with effort.
“I took care of it. You obviously don’t need music, since you’ll be running our family business after you graduate.” I clench my fists, wishing I could take a swing at his fake tan face.
“Who’s running it now that you’re here?” I wonder who he trusted enough to leave his CEO position with to come here. Why he came here at all still escapes me.
“The board and I agreed that your Uncle Hadley would be in charge for the time being. Now, I have a few more meetings to attend to before the assembly. Students should be receiving a message about it any time now.” He says, looking at his watch as he turns away from me, already done with our conversation.
“Oh, and Walker? I’ll be keeping a close eye on you while I’m here. No more of that music endeavor you’ve been trying out. We don’t need any distractions.”
I feel my argument coat my tongue, ready to spring out at any moment, but I clench my lips together, swallowing the words I so desperately wish to say. If I refuse his wishes, I’ll give him exactly what he wants- an excuse to let his anger out on me. Avoiding his twisted punishments has become a habit at this point, and as I leave his office I wonder if I’ll ever be able to break free of his hold over my life.
I’m tired of feeling like a fucking puppet, in more ways than one.
ChapterThirteen
GRAHAM
SONG: IRIS BY THE GOO GOO DOLLS
My forearm throbs as I whisk this bowl of eggs into submission. The house has been on edge all week, and yesterday’s meeting with Salem and Skye was a shit-show, but I had to admit I felt better not having to harbor this secret from them any longer. It was out in the open that the seven of us had been possessed by these monsters against our will.
Six of us now. Fuck.
My wrist cramps up from spinning the whisk around too forcefully. I toss the bowl down like it’s burned me, the eggs sloshing over the rim, taunting me with the possibility of salmonella on my counters.
“Need any help?”
I turn in surprise to the sound of Skye’s voice. Her usually bright blue eyes are rimmed with red, and her blonde hair is thrown up into a messy bun. She’s wearing flannel bottom shorts, that I itch to peel off her tanned legs.
I clear my throat and wrench my eyes away from her legs feeling like a creep for checking her out so blatantly while she’s in her emotions.
“Grab the whole milk from the fridge, bella. You can help me make French Toast.”
She does what I ask without question, and I clench my fists, wanting to order her to do all kinds of things for me. I grab the bread and seasonings I’ll need, busying my mind so I’m not so focused on Skye and how much I long for her.
Fuck, I feel pathetic.
Skye moves silently beside me, eager for my instructions, which she follows without complaint.
I can tell she’s lost in her head, wanting a distraction from whatever is plaguing her.
I show her how to flip the French Toast while warming some chocolate to make into a drizzle. She lets me guide her hand, sending electricity straight down my spine.
We listen to the toast sizzle.
“So… what’s it like being possessed?” She asks, staring at the piece of toast with her bottom lip tucked behind her teeth.
I let out a surprised laugh. I scratch the back of my neck trying to think of how to describe it.
“It’s ah… you know…”
