“Very funny,” Sully deadpans.
“Hey man, let me call you back, a head-splitting…problem is coming my way.”
“That’s a weird choice of words, but okay. Bye.”
I lower my phone as Ren ends the call and raises both hands up. “Thought bows were your thing.”
“Weapons are my thing,” I snarl, raising the knife in the air.
“I also thought you were all cold and in control.”
“I am.” Unless Sully is involved. I look at him like he’s the bug I need to crush.
“Look, you clearlycarefor Sully, and I know I can’t stop…this. The stalking thing is weird as fuck, but I can see you don’t mean him harm…just like Rami didn’t with Hunter.”
“If I wanted to hurt Sully, I would’ve done it a thousand times already. He has the physical strength of a kitten.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about it.” I hate when people seem to know something about Sully that I don’t.
“I’ll talk to Jacob, see if he knows something about the swerving car.”
I sniff, eyes on Sully sitting on his bed, EarPods in his ears. Since it sounded like Ren pushed him out of harm’s way, I’ll give him first crack at the fucker. I also have my hands full at the moment with Nine.
“Two days. If you don’t find anything by then, the prick is mine. Be sure to tell him that if he sets even a finger on Sully…” I show him again the long blade I’m holding. “I’ll cut his fucking arm off and strangle him with it.”
“Creepy. Noted. Now, I have a girl to see…to actually meet. None of this peeping Tom crap.” He points at me and the window. Then he makes a military salute before starting to climb down the tree.
I crouch to get closer to him as he descends. “Fuck with me again, and I’ll repay the favor.” I let the threat sink in.
“Watch out! Sully saw you.”
What? I freeze and slowly turn only my head toward the window. But Sully is still sitting on the bed listening to music.
When I look down, Ren has disappeared. That prick! My lips twitch involuntarily. That boy has balls.
I sit more comfortably on the branch, and as my eyes find Sully again, I see tears running down his cheeks. What the fuck? I grab my phone and enter the app once again. He’s listening to a country song by Ella King called “Can’t Be Loved.” I thought he liked this kind of music, why is he crying? He always cries like this. All alone. Feebly. Softly. The tears falling down his face are eerily beautiful. I’ve been wanting to witness his eyes turn blurry and lighter in color, for me, not a fucking whiny song.
He really is a little chick, defenseless and softhearted. He switches off the light and lies under the comforter in the fetal position, still sniffling over the pillow. I continue watching him while he falls asleep. I like how ethereal his skin looks under tonight’s bright moonlight. It illuminates every intake of breath he takes, every little move he makes. He mumbles something as he turns on his back while his chest continues its rise and fall. Is he dreaming of me? Those luscious lips part—my dick responds in an instant. I imagine sucking and biting on them until they bleed. I want to pull the sheet back and memorize his chest. His small nipples would be hard and begging to be pinched and licked. His dick would be stiff and dripping cum.
I stop the growl in my throat. It’s taking all the restraint I have not to kick down his door and haul him over my shoulder so I can keep him locked up where only I can get to him. Keep him satisfied in a way only I can. I know Sully likes me, but even if he didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. I’ll make him enjoy what I do to him, make him crave it.
No matter who he likes, he’ll soon learn I am who he needs.
I hang up my phone and turn my head away from the high metal gate and the two black, round-eyed bear statues on top of it when I hear a car approaching. A tall guy with smooth caramel skin, dreads, and calculating, hazel eyes—a smidge lighter than mine—exits the shiny Hummer. He has piercings on his eyebrow and his lip, in addition to several earrings in his ears. Anexpensive, long gray coat falls down his long figure over a red sweater and dark jeans.
Uriel is a walking, breathing carbon copy of myself—a mostly irritating one. When kids we were wary of one another; we either ignored or tricked each other. A psychopath and a sociopath living under the same tin roof in a trailer park with an abusive father and a neglectful mother is not the beginning of a once-upon-a-time tale. A thriller would be the right choice. Our tumultuous coexistence came to an end soon enough after we were taken.
After escaping, I went to look for him. I wasn’t feeling any kind of kinship toward him. Forming bonds is quite difficult for me. I typically hinge on how useful the other person can be. And that’s part of the reason why I kept checking on my brother from time to time. I was right in doing so since we have a cold-blooded killer who won’t stop coming at us until we are all dead. I have more opportunities to find and kill her using Uriel and the others even as bait if I need.
“What are you doing out here?” Uriel asks.
“Enjoying the view,” I reply, keeping my butt against the motorbike, legs crossed at the ankles.
“Still going with the college pusher look?” He looks me up and down with disapproving eyes as he analyzes my green hoodie, light puffer coat, blue bandana, and worn-out jeans.
“Still going with the entitled fuckboy act?” I recount.
“Fuck you!”
