Page 16 of The Price Of Possession

“What perks are there for accepting?”

Her face turns desiccated. “Clara . . . ” She shakes her head. “Don't even think about it. You have no idea how perverted and turpitudinous these people are. I refuse to even speak to the Elites after learning about all this. They do unthinkable acts. They think women are here to serve. They have no morals.”

“What are the perks?” I ask again. My insides twist.

“You'll be passed around, compensated with money, clothes, and whatever you want. But it isn't worth it,” she pleads with her eyes.

My head is a jumbled mess trying to piece together why Kieran has taken an interest in me. Is that why Kieran pierced me? Is he getting me ready to be passed around like a doll? Is his curiosity nothing more than self-glorification? He's using me as a playground for his atavistic needs. He's his father’s son. The upper echelons of the Elites, proving himself worthy of the Voids command, focusing on his own vitiated need to be puissant.

Men like him are power hungry. I've seen it before. I know it all too well.

A few years prior.

“Clara?” A voice rips me from the numbness. “I'm done. You can go now.” His harsh, detached voice cuts through the silence.

I blink a few times and peer over to see Reed pulling his pants over his hips. I nod and pick myself up off the cold, hard floor gingerly. I'm sore. That's typical after Reed finishes with me, though. My clothes are thrown over one of the wingback chairs haphazardly.

Quickly, I dress, pocket my phone from his end table, and leave without another word. This is my usual. Letting them use me for their own pleasure while chasing my own. Sex serves its purpose. It's a distraction and sometimes even enjoyable, but I go to Reed for penance not pleasure. It's a way to atone for my sins. If I had just been a better daughter. If I had helped Mama earlier.

Kieran never gave a fuck about me. Not that I assumed otherwise. His relentless pursuit is a voracious hunger. He's a beast. I see the way he looks at me. Like I'm his toy. At least I can do the one thing I'm good at to get ahead.

A loose joint hangs from my lips. I drown in the buzz. Zain sits next to me on the faded stone bench outside of the Lexicon building. The streetlamps illuminate the path along the courtyard. We're the only fucks crazy enough to sit outside in the dead of winter. My insides are coiled tight from my earlier run in with Mortensen. He revealed shit I had no desire to know. Now, I'm forced to confront my best friend. Mortensen is the king of stirring shit up. I'm losing my head from all this bullshit.

“Is Vesper your sister?” I ask. I spread my legs and fan my arms out over the bench, getting comfortable. I pinch the joint between my fingers and hold it out to Zain. His head snaps to me. He's wearing his usual unapproachable scowl. He may explode on me, but there's no way around this conversation. Shit needs to be laid out in the open.

“Who the fuck told you that?” he deflects, spitting rage in his words. He takes the joint, inhaling a heavy hit.

I scoff and remain nonchalant. I really couldn't give a fuck, what I do give a fuck about is that he used my gun. “Who the hell do you think?”

He passes the joint back. Smoke hazes the air around us. His jaw clenches.

“Half-sister.” he corrects, waving the cloud of smoke away.

I shrug. “I don’t give a fuck. No judgement here, man. What I do give a fuck about is you using my Goddamn gun.” I slump forward and rest my elbows on my thighs. I take another hit before flicking it to the damp stoney ground.

He leans forward. His fingers thread through his hair. “I knew you wouldn't be implemented. Wasn't planning on them findin’ the body, either,” he spits, eyeing me.

My lip curls. “Well, the police did. Now guess who's dealing with the consequences?” He surges up from the bench. “Mortensen wouldn't say shit. It would ruin his image and the image of the school to know a student was behind it. Don't read into his mindfuck bullshit. He hasn't announced details to the student body because he's weighing his options. He's tryin' to play his cards right. We need to be one step ahead. He's talked to the police, if he had any dirt one of us would be arrested.”

I rest my forehead in my palms. “Man, I don't want to be involved in this shit. He's not gonna let this go. Shit, Jax's parents won't let Mortensen sweep it under the rug!” I bark. I grow increasingly annoyed. More than I should be. My gaze snaps back to Zain. He looks unbothered, as always. Since when am I the one giving a shit about how stuff plays out? I wish I could go back to indulging in pussy and drugs. It was easier to bury my head in the sand than to deal with the bullshit thrown my way.

Zain digs his hands in his hoodie. “As far as Mortensen is concerned, it was a random attack. You're lettin’ him under your skin.” He rolls his shoulders.

I grind my molars. My head rolls back. “I can't help Clara,” I say through clenched teeth. Not in the way Vesper and Zain want. What she needs is saved from the fuckery that is Void. All I would replace it with is my depravity. Mortensen has offered me a key to the locked door, and Clara is the prize behind it. My fixation has turned into an unhealthy obsession. He knows I won’t let anyone else fuck her.

Mortensen's ultimatum is not happening. It can't. It pisses me off how much I give a shit about her, how far she's embedded into my skin. I should let things play out and move on, but she's a bad habit I keep reaching for. What options do I have left? I have one. It would offer me self-absolution while simultaneously destroying her from the inside out. Temptation fills me. I’m a fucked up mess. I never claimed to be otherwise. She will have to live with the destruction I will cause her. The cinder and ash I will lay at her feet will only show her how fucked up I truly am.

Zain cocks his head. A sinister smirk plays over his lips. “Can't win 'em all.” He says as if he knows the shit I’m about to do. When that time comes, she will see me for the abomination I truly am. Act first, think later.

The throbbing in my head refuses to relent. I try to focus on the lecture, but my attention is divided. After Vesper dropped that bomb on me, I went home to drown in my endless sea of thoughts. To her, she feels the need to save me from all this, but where she sees travesty, I see opportunity.

I'm way past that point of being “saved” anyway. This is the lowest I've ever been. I pride myself on my ability to be resilient, but the troubled scenes of my past replay in my mind over and over. She can't just erase my past; no one can. I am who I am. I'll do anything to be somebody, to push myself into a better life, but there is a part of me that can't let go. It haunts me. This is my ticket to a better life, though.

Kieran replays in my mind like a broken record. I'm not sure how much longer I can pretend to be immune to him. The guy is a loose cannon. He's the type of guy who finally loses his shit and shoots up a school. I laugh internally. What does that say about me?

You’re a fucking mess, Clara, that’s what.

Silas, Val, and Grey steal glances at me from across the classroom. They've avoided me like the plague since Kieran went ape shit and punched Val. Kieran hasn't shown his face in class since that day, either. My leg bounces wildly under my desk. I'm nauseous and should have definitely skipped class. If my scholarship didn't ride on my grades being perfect, I would have. I chuckle to myself. I suppose none of that matters anymore. Everything is dependent on the impending choices before me. Vesper warned me Mortensen would be talking to me soon. Much to her dismay, I'll be accepting his proposal. I'd rather die than lose my scholarship. There is no other option for me. This is it. I just need to try harder to keep my head above the crashing waves that threaten to pull me under into the darkness. It wants to swallow me whole. As class ends, everyone packs up. Students filter out back to their dorms. I slip my bag over my shoulders and wait for the crowd to dissipate. I round the hallway toward the Scion building.