“No big deal,” I mumble, keeping my back to her. “I gotta get home.” I grab my well-worn polo and yank it over my head.
She walks around me and places a hand on either side of my face. “I’ll teach you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.” Zilphia smiles and grabs the hem of my shirt, lifting it over my head. “But I want to.” She leads me back into the water and begins my first swimming lesson.
I glide across the smooth surface of the water, thinking about her. When the fuck am Inotthinking about her? My feelings for Zilphia confuse me. Could I be falling in love?Nah.Hate is my love language.
And by fucking God, I hate that fucking girl with an intensity that burns brighter than the sun. Besides, I decided a long time ago that love doesn’t exist.
Do I want to fuck her? More than my next breath. Do I want to make her suffer? Absolutely. Do I want to make her bleed? That’s a hell fucking yes.
But love? Love is a fucking fairytale, the elusive unicorn for the dumb and desperate, only existing in unrealistic romance novels and television, filling impressionable young minds with bullshit aspirations and a false idealism that one day they’ll find their happily ever after… their soul mate… their better half.Idiots.All of them, but then again, everyone plays the fool once, twice, or several times in their life.
I once coveted the illusion until reality gave me a swift kickin the balls. Seeking the four-letter word came at a great cost to me, but the tables have turned, and my personal brand of revenge is a dish best served piping hot. So fucking hot, it singes the roof of the mouth.
Making her suffer won’t be enough to sate my bloodlust. I need something more, but I don’t know what that something is. If only I could reanimate the dead, I would fuck her, kill her, then bring her back over and over again—each homicide more gruesome than the last.
Blood rushes to my cock at the thought. I would gladly surrender my soul to the devil himself in exchange for the ability to kill Zilphia a thousand different ways.
I reach the end of the indoor pool and push into a flip turn. Once upon a time, I couldn’t swim, but Zilphia taught me how. Lesson after lesson, I became stronger, more confident in the water. Zilphia never lost patience with me. She was always kind, always nurturing, and that only made me love her more.
My cell phone rings, snapping me back to the present. I swim to the edge of the pool and tap the speaker icon.
“Yeah.”
“We have a problem,” Snake growls, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.
“What is it?”
“Zilphia’s not at school,” he informs me.
“What the fuck do you mean she’s not at school?” I snarl, already out of the pool and bounding toward the house, a million and one thoughts racing through my mind. Did she run or was she kidnapped? Probably the former, but the brotherhood has many enemies, so a kidnapping isn’t far-fetched. “Where the fuck is she?”
“I don’t know. Me and a few brothers searched the entire building,” he explains. “We couldn’t find her anywhere. Meela isn’t here either. Could be a coincidence, but more than likely they’re together.”
“What about her other friend?” I ask, taking the stairs two at a time to my bedroom.
“She’s here but says she doesn’t know where they are.”
“You believe her?” I toss my phone on the bed and step out of my swim shorts.
“She’s lying through her fucking teeth, but I can get her to talk,” Snake states with grim promise.
“Take her to The Sanctuary,” I instruct him. “I’ll be there in twenty.”
“Will do.”
I’m dried, dressed, and out the door in less than ten minutes. I called Zilphia, but as expected, my call went straight to voicemail. I installed a tracker on her phone, but little good that’ll do me with the damn thing shut off. If she left on her own, she’s going to regret the day she entered this world.
I put wheels to asphalt, burning rubber toward The Sanctuary. Once there, I storm to the basement and into the hidden room where many of our enemies met their demise. Snake sits at a table alongside the two fuckers who were supposed to keep an eye on Zilphia, the trio entertaining themselves with a card game. Leah cowers in the opposite corner, her face stained with tears.
“I swear I don’t know where she is,” she sobs, pushing to her feet. “Please let me go.”
I ignore her and stomp over to the motherfuckers responsible for letting my property slip away. A fist to the jaw unseats prospect one, sending him crashing to the concrete floor. “You pieces of shit were supposed to keep an eye on her!” I roar and prospect two finds himself next to his counterpart with a bloody nose.
Leah makes a break for it, but Snake’s right behind her in an instant, seizing her long ponytail and flinging her into the wall. She plummets to the floor in a sobbing heap.
