This stupid machine and its incessant beeping are going to drive me crazy. It’s been three days, most of which I’ve been unconscious for. At least when I was passed out, I wasn’t aware of the soul wrenching reality that surrounds me now.
The police have been by twice, asking the most asinine questions that set my teeth on edge. It’s not like they’re going to do anything anyways. The way they posed their questions made me realize that they’d already made their minds up about what happened.
I simultaneously feel nothing and everything all at once. The grief though, is a constant black hole, gnawing at my already damaged heart.
Apparently, Graham got me to the hospital just in time. I’d lost a significant amount of blood and had gone through several blood transfusions to keep me stable. By the doctor’s account, I should be dead, but I clung to life despite the ordeal my body had gone through.
Maybe it would have been kinder to let me go, because waking up in a world without my twin had me wishing that I had been taken with him.
Sloan is in the bed next to me in worse condition than I am, but still hanging on. The nurses fawn over us both, shaking their heads and murmuring the word “miracle” under their breath. I feel smothered by their constant hovering. The way they poke and prod at all hours has my already bad mood feeling extra feral.
Skye sits curled up, asleep between our two beds in a plush chair they must have brought in for her. I can make out the dark circles staining her face from here. Her hair, which is usually up in her pigtails is thrown into a messy bun that sits askew on her head. I’ve feigned being asleep every time I know she’s awake. I feel her eyes bore into me, waiting to ask the questions that I am not ready to answer. She deserves so much more than me and I want to keep this feeling of her caring for me a little longer.
“How are we feeling today?” A bright-eyed nurse bellows, startling Skye out of her sleep. She doesn’t wait for my response before she starts checking me over.
Drool clings to the side of Skye’s pouty lips and it makes my heart twinge, wishing I could wipe it away with my thumb. Her clear blue eyes meet mine and I look away, not wanting her to see the truth I’ve kept hidden for so long. I grit my teeth at the feel of her eyes skirting down my body, assessing the damage that’s been done.
I know that once she discovers the truth about all of us, I’ll lose her too.
No sane person wants to be stuck dating someone who’s possessed by a demon.
The nurse breezes past me after checking my vitals and changing my bandage, then she heads off to check on Sloan. I see Skye out of the corner of my eye, worrying her lip and twisting her fingers around her baggyThe Whot-shirt. Even sleep deprived, she looks like a goddamn angel, and here I was, a fucking devil incarnate. The very definition of evil runs in my veins.
I find myself checking in with the demon that resides in my chest and note the subtle shift in the way it feels. It’s always felt separate, stitched in like a parasite, but now it feels as if a seam has busted loose, and its essence is slowly oozing into me. I hear the incessant beeping tick up in pace, picking up my internal panic. Skye’s eyes bounce from me to the machine that flashes my vitals. Unfurling her body from its curled position, she slinks over to my side- pity swimming in those baby blues. She reaches for my hand, but I yank it away.
I watch as her face crumbles. I know she wants to comfort me, and I want nothing more than to let her, but I can’t. It’s better to lose her on my own terms and push her away while I still can. It’s for her own good anyway. She’s too pure for the likes of me. I’d only bring her heartache and damage her irrevocably.
“You shouldn’t be here.” I manage to say, my voice sounding hoarse from disuse.
She looks as if I’ve slapped her but recovers quickly. “Where else should I be, Lukas?”
Her question hangs in the air between us as she searches my face, which I work hard to keep aloof and unbothered. Like treating her this way isn’t twisting a knife into my own goddamn heart.
She stares at me with a challenge arching her eyebrow. I look away so I don’t have to watch her crack any further, knowing that I’m dismissing her.
“Anywhere but here.”
“But-“
“I don’t want you here.” I feel the lie burn my tongue as I spit it out. The venom of my words hits her square in the chest. She turns on her heel to leave, grabbing her sketchbook and bag on her way out. A few errant pages flutter to the ground as she goes, but she doesn’t stop to pick them up.
The nurse clears her throat from the other side of the room, her stethoscope poised over Sloan’s chest. I frown down at her, willing her to mind her own business.
No such luck.
“That girl has been waiting here for days, you know.” I grit my teeth together to keep from lashing out at the person responsible for my pain meds. “She didn’t sleep much and refused to leave. We broke policy to allow her to stay.”
“Maybe you should have followed that policy then.” She stands to her full height, assessing me with her sharp eyes.
I turn away from her and feel the guilt and loathing wash over me. I welcome them, I welcome the pain, I should suffer for failing my brother like I did. I should have gotten him out. Consumed by my thoughts I don’t register that the nurse has placed Skye’s dropped sketches next to me, until she’s out the door.
I grab onto one, regret bubbling through my chest as I take in the delicate lines of her drawing. It’s us. Perfectly happy and wrapped around each other. The look in my eyes one of pure adoration as I cup the nape of her neck, my fingers curled around a few loose strands of her hair. I feel my hands crumpling the paper, eager to get rid of the hurtful reminder that I’ll never have that again- and it’s all my fault
ChapterSeven
SALEM
SONGS: DARK PARADISE BY LANA DEL RAY, DANCING WITH YOUR GHOST BY SASHA ALEX SLOAN
