“What did you two do, or is that only for you to know, and I'm to be left in the fucking dark?” Damon spits, his anger directed at me but also at himself. At the look I give him, he doesn't even provide me a chance to respond before he's questioning me again. “Are you planning to kill her?” The way he utters the words is filled with turmoil, as if the mere possibility lights an inferno inside him, making me wonder if his rage is against the thought, or for it.
“You think I wanted this?” Damon hisses at the empty wall, his jaw locking and resembling cut granite, and not for the first time, I see the uncertainty that's recently plagued him: his failure is a mirror for all of us. Rejection is a new weapon, unseen until someone points it at you. That cuts Damon deep, really. It cuts all of us, because we've not experienced it before. Usually, the world bows at our feet. We are the heirs apparent of Mayhem, and there's both safety and danger in that, but it's a world we’ve become accustomed to, it’s all we’ve ever known. Olivia Springhill is a deadly spider, weaving a web around us, trapping us within her fine strands, and waiting to consume us. I can't and won't allow us to be anything but predators. We are at the top of the food chain.
"Just tell me what happened at the school, Damon. By the looks of you, it didn't go well. Is she still breathing?" I scrutinize all his new injuries, and the tears in his clothes. Did Olivia do all that damage once again? A niggle of doubt rises within me that she's so violent, and unpredictable, that maybe the only way to take her down will be death.
"I cornered the bitch in the library, and yeah, we came to blows,” he motions down at his clothing with vexation. "Some of this was her doing for sure, but then someone unexpected came to her rescue, when I managed to get my hands around her pretty neck to subdue her." His pale lips curl with disgust, and that has me instantly on guard.
"Who would fucking dare attack you?" My voice is sharper than I mean it to be, and immediately my thoughts turn to that cunt Sim.
I watch from the corner of my peripheral vision as River gets up from the bench, irritation and malevolence radiating off of him in waves. He might taunt Damon, but he's extremely overprotective of him, of both of us. There’s no other sure way to make River turn into your worst enemy than to come for Damonor me. "Tell me who fucking laid a finger on you, and I'll ensure they lose all of them!" River's words fall like a blade, sharp and deadly.
"Rawdon,"Damon utters through clenched teeth, his bleeding lip reopening, and a drop of crimson blood sliding down his chin. The name is a bomb, shattering any hindrance of calm within the space.
River takes the necessary steps to reach Damon, reaching out and yanking him closer by the tattered shirt. I watch as Damon’s face collapses into something brittle, and he loses what little control he had left. "What do you mean, Rawdon?" River demands, and I can almost see the wheels turning in his head. He too has had a run-in with that fake fucker over my stepsister.
"He came out of nowhere and attacked me, giving her the opportunity to run, and she did, like the stupid cunt she is. I had to beat him off of me, and by that time, she was long gone." Damon swipes at the blood on his skin, before licking it off his fingers.
Rawdon is quickly becoming, not only a nuisance, but an enemy, and I don't allow those to keep breathing for long. Everything about that slimy snake has always rubbed me the wrong way. The whispers about him have always been scathing: drugs, underage girls, abuse of authority, and even rape, but his daddy's money and last name have always kept him safe from the authorities, and even from Mayhem at my father's insistence. Now, regardless of my father's command, it's time to change that; he's interfered one too many times in my business, and I won't allow him to play shining knight to Olivia, not when he's filled with rot.
"One more thing, I ran into Sim when I was leaving the school. We had words about the unhinged princess, and he threatened me, threatened Mayhem to stay away from her." A slight smirk crosses Damon's deranged face, as if he knowsexactly what every word he's uttering will do to me, and how precariously I'm holding on to my restraint.
“You have to stop baiting Cross, Damon. It looks pathetic, and one of these days, he's going to lose control and stop you from breathing,” River exclaims with annoyance. There’s a flicker of something like pity across his face, then it’s instantly gone, once again hidden behind the charming mask he wears. He grabs a towel from the rack and drapes it over his shoulder, casual as a man who fears nothing. “We’ll sort this, and take care of both of them, first that fucker Rawdon, and then that betraying cunt, Sim,” he states, the words both a dangerous promise and a threat.
"What did you plan for her?" Damon is questioning me, but I don't feel the need to reassure him with our actions. I check my phone, glancing at the texts from the watchers I've set up at the school. It looks like my new, unwanted sister has left campus in a rush, and I'm only momentarily relieved that it was alone.
"Let's just say Livy will be taking a very long, drug-induced sleep tonight, and when she wakes, she'll believe she's in a nightmare. There's nothing like being left abandoned in the woods at night for animals to hunt." River grins, his boyish good looks making him appear innocent. "Aren't you starving for some fresh meat, Damon? I know I am."
"Ravenous.If we're going hunting, I'll need my flaying knife. Nothing tastes better than fresh blood and screams." Damon turns on his heels, already lost in his murderous thoughts and excitement. He stops, suddenly taking a rapid step backward, shrinking as if he's avoiding the empty air in front of him, and swiping out with his fist to connect to nothing. "I will have my prize, and you can't stop me. She'll scream my name with her last breath, before I fill all her holes with my cock, and I tear out her heart!"
“Pull yourself together,” I demand with irritation, because someone has to be the anchor here, and keep the madness at bay. “We have work to do.” The command is soft, but iron underneath it. He looks at me like I'm both a lifeline and the only damnable thing left in his world. For a moment, I'm unsure if he'll follow my instructions, and I steady my breath, preparing to have to hurt him. In the silence that follows, all I can hear is the beat of my own heart, and the memory of how she smelled, and it tastes like failure on my tongue. I want to flay that memory until it’s raw, to be rid of the craving that sits in my bones. That craving is a stubborn animal that won't readily obey my commands, much like Damon. I realize instantly that I’ll have to give him something, a promise, or dose him, to keep him from killing Olivia before I’ve had my fill of her.
Finally, he nods his dark head, broken and furious, and we move like a machine with one crooked gear, synchronized, deadly, and inescapable, toward the room's exit to complete my plans. Olivia Springhill will pay in blood tonight, and I can't wait to taste her fear. I wonder if it will be as sweet as her pussy.Fuck, I hope so.
CHAPTER 26
OLLY
Ican still feel Damon's harsh, brutal hands around my neck, squeezing and choking the air out of my lungs. His hot breath on my face, and the way his eyes were filled with madness, and hate directed at me, reminded me of another time when I was weak, and someone else hurt me. My mind vividly hears the screech of the library floor beneath us, as our shoes struggle to find purchase. The feeling of the cold press of the hard table against my spine as I was shoved against it violently, and the slam of the library door when it broke our moment of connection. It replays in quick flashes, shattered frames of violence and noise, that won't stop flickering in my mind, each echo intensifying my dread. Every time I blink, I see the look in his unhinged eyes when he realized I would fight back. He seemed not only to anticipate it, but it also seemed to bring him perverse pleasure. It should frighten me, and it does, but it also fuels a growing obsession with understanding him and his friends. Why are they so obsessed with me, and who damaged Damon so severely to make him the way he is?Hurt people, hurt people,isn’t that what they say? Isn’t that why I am the way I am now?
Then there was the shout, a deep male voice demanding that I be released.Professor Rawdon.The man who pulled Damon off me, who gave me the opportunity to run, and who saved me. The same man who, years ago, destroyed mine and my best friend's lives, and took her from me. My emotions are a whirlwind of contradictions, relief, devastation, and fury, war within me without an outlet, as Rawdon's intervention clashes with my memories of his past actions that still haunt me. His presence now feels like a fragile thread connecting salvation and destruction, leaving me torn, suspicious, and utterly confused.
The school hallway seems to tilt slightly as I walk on trembling legs, my body feeling both battered and drunk, even though I've had nothing to drink. The world around me is too sharp, vibrant, and loud, compared to the darkness and anxiety invading, and spiraling sinisterly in my mind, wreaking havoc on my senses. My pulse hammers in my ears, deafening and relentless, almost forcing me to slam my hands against my skull to drown it out. Terror rises within me, and causes me to keep glancing over my shoulder, certain I'll see Damon's shadow or one of his deranged friends sliding around the corner, ready to hurt me again. I can still hear Damon snarling as Rawdon held him back during their fight, the guttural growl echoing in my ears, and I was urged to run. He was more beast than man, and that terrifies me more than I can admit. The oppressive silence of the hallway feels like a trap closing in, amplifying my fear and paranoia.
I shouldn’t have trusted anyone to intervene, especially not Rawdon. He’s not the type to save anyone. He's a monster, just like those three assholes. He is the reason Cheyanne isn’t alive and here with me. Yet, when he reached for me in that chaos, I was relieved that someone, anyone, was there. I allowed him to take on the other monster and protect me in the library, just like a child.Why?My brain demands with fury at my weakness.Isit because I’m losing focus on why I came here? Soule and some of its inhabitants are already crawling under my skin, worming their way to the thick iron walls I've hidden myself behind, and I can't allow them passage within. I have to keep myself safe.
I reach the front gates and manicured lawns of the house I now live in, without any recollection of leaving school grounds, or of the drive. My hands shake, as I grip the steering wheel for dear life. The mansion looms against the late afternoon sky, dark and foreboding, filled with the promise of rain and majestic oranges, purples, and gray clouds that are beautiful, but also terrifying. I quickly glance around, looking for signs of my stepbrother and his deranged friends, but no vehicles are visible in the driveway. I stare up at the large front door through my windshield, its dark, gaping mouth ready to swallow its inhabitants. The enormous windows glow like watchful eyes, cold and uninviting. I hesitate with uncertainty before leaving the car, my hand grabbing for my cell phone. Who the hell am I even going to call? I don't know anyone here besides my mom, and...Sim.No, don't think about him now, leave it be, Olly, you made the right choice when you fled from him.
My eyes notice a new text from my mom, and I quickly divert my glance away from the house, and my melancholy thoughts, to open it.
Sweetie, we are away for the night. Gerald has a meeting in Boston.
Be back soon. Please behave with your new brother.
Do it for me, Olivia. Please don't ruin this for me.
Instant anger and disgust intertwine within me, as I reread her message once more. She has no idea the monsters she'sbrought us to live with, and what she's asking of me. As usual, I'm her last thought and priority, and I don't even know why I believed anything would be different with a change of residence. I exit my vehicle, my fear momentarily forgotten, and replaced with fury, as I slam my car door, noticing with disgust the amount of spitballs coating its surface, and stomp up to the front door. That was a real treat to discover once I tried to leave school. The whole surface of every window was covered in disgusting, shriveled-up paper spitballs. Like, are we all still in junior high, instead of attending a prestigious university? I'm positive my stupid, unhinged stepbrother has something to do with it.
I grip the heavy front door handle, its cold surface against my palm grounding me.Get it together, Olly. You need your head on fucking straight to deal with these assholes. Weakness will get you killed, bitch.
