Page 33 of The Price Of Possession

He tries to smooth shit over. “Listen, about the party . . . I didn't know she was your latest plaything,” he admits sheepishly. “She's been fucking Silas and I for weeks . . .” he trails off, purposefully avoiding anymore confrontation. But his admission isn't helping his cause.

I'm not in the mood to listen to his babbling. I don't need his reasoning or excuses. My cock is the only one she's gonna remember, anyway. No matter how many dicks she sucks and fucks. It'll be mine that makes her toes curl. Right now, though, I need to focus on locating her. I don't need the added headache of her going to the police. It's a little hard to refute my name burnt into her milky skin. Not even Mortensen can dig me out of that shit.

“Where. Is. She,” I growl out, enunciating each word. I'm in no mood for his apology. It's my own fault for being so careless, but I'm no less agitated. Val knows I'm not one to fuck around or mince words. Not as of late, anyway. Guess I'm finally getting some of my shit together. Who would have thought.

“She was driving toward campus.”

I end the call to dial the only person I trust and the one person I don't want to involve in my fuck ups. My resolve is slipping with each passing moment. The phone trills a few times before a sleepy voice answers. I plod toward the bathroom, put the call on speaker, and set it on the sink. I turn the faucet on and splash the cold water over my face. The air gets sucked from my lungs. My insides twist in revulsion. I hate the reflection staring back at me.

“This better be important,” Zain's voice growls on the other end. I hear Vesper moaning in the background. It echoes along the bathroom walls. Yup, unhappy interruption. There was a point I would have fucked Vesper with Zain. He wasn't, and still isn't, into the sharing thing. That ship has long sailed. Especially now that she's got it out for me. She knows I'm behind Clara's disappearance. I don't blame her, but it's no less annoying to deal with her bullshit.

I scoff. “Obviously. Listen man, don't say shit to Vesp. I need to borrow your car. Zero questions asked.” I know he will do anything for me. It's bro code. He is the one person who doesn't question my shit even when I'm being reckless.

Water beads down my cheeks. The ends of my hair darken from the dampness. “Fine. Fuck it up and I'll fuck you up.”

I roll my eyes. As if I don't have enough money to buy it twenty times over. “Yeah, man, whatever. Just don't say shit to Vesper. I can't deal with her bitchy ass right now. Got it?”

“Watch it,” he growls at me.

I'm so close to the edge and I swear that nosy bitch will push me over it. I get it. She wants to murder me for doing something with Clara. Hell, if she knew how deep my depravity runs, she'd cut my balls off. She's grown a pair since being with Zain. Not surprised. I remember when she was meek and timid. The truth of the matter is though, Clara is a big girl. Vesper has a tendency to stick her nose where it doesn't belong. Her curiosity gets the better of her. Probably how she ended up with Zain in the first Goddamn place.

I don't owe Vesper shit for answers and if she continues to hound me, I have no problem locking her in that ossuary next, consequences with Zain be damned.

Zain has kept her on a tight leash, but she's about reached the end of

her rope with me.

“Be there in ten.”

I slam my foot full force on the gas pedal. I quickly send Vesper a text, hoping she replies. She doesn't. For being a luxury car, this has some kick to it. I feel like a damn queen behind the wheel. This will probably be the only time I'll ever be driving something so extravagant. This lifestyle isn't meant for somebody like me according to Mortensen.

I can't even be mad, he's right. I'm not good enough to run with these rich Elites. They are ruthless, depraved and psychotic nymphos who have zero emotions in their bones. I round the corner toward campus with my foot slammed to the floorboard. The tires squeal. Burnt rubber fills my nostrils. Kieran's going to be pissed once he finds me gone in addition to the damage I'm doing to his car.

I have learned to be quite the escape artist in bad situations over the years. Sometimes you have guys who are rough. It's best to be aware of your surroundings and situations. Though, that would have helped me if I realized the danger I was in agreeing to this Void business. Maybe I was past the point of caring.

I focus back on the road. The car jumps forward and I’m certain I've fucked up his engine. Kieran's an entitled asshole, it serves him right for thinking he can steal me and my opportunity while keeping my scholarship from me. But Kieran is playing both sides like a devious serpent.

He's not fooling me. His end game is clear. Break me, though that just might be for his sick pleasures. Take his father’s place as the head of Grimshaw while marrying a high tier Elite. I almost belly laugh at the thought of Kieran ever getting married. Monogamy isn't in his vocabulary. As if any of the Elites stay true to their vows, anyway. Trust is foreign here. The way to heaven is paved with deception, deceit, and treachery.

This is no longer a game I'm willing to play with him, no matter how enticing he is. The sleek car skids to a halt outside of Zain's. This is not the most ideal situation or even the safest option, but it's my only one left unless I run into the arms of the Void. I have to hope Zain doesn't run to Kieran. I don't trust them not to let Kieran steal me away again. What Kieran wants he gets. Spoiled fucked Elites and their entitlement, but I refuse to relinquish my hard work. Deep down I know I can't stay at Grimshaw, I'll never escape the Void. I'm an outsider, and outsiders are dangerous.

The door to the car swings open and I exit. I stride over the manicured lawn letting myself in like I own the place. The foyer is subsumed by darkness aside from a dim light fluttering from the upstairs hallway. I tiptoe through the entryway making the floor creak with each careful step.

Heavy steps trudge down the staircase. Vesper's eyes zero in on me and that's when the flood gates open. “Clara? Oh my God!” She rushes to my side as if she's seen a ghost. Worry pinches her face. She wraps her sheer robe over her middle covering herself. I probably woke her up. Her hair is up in a tight bun with loose tendrils framing her face. Tears streak my cheeks. I crumple to the floor in a useless heap. My emotions are wildly unstable without self-medicating regularly. This is the first time I've had a moment to process since Kieran. My insides are burning alive. I feel myself reliving all my hellish past traumas. I always knew my past would catch up to me. A heavy lump sticks to the back of my throat, and I struggle to gain oxygen. An impending panic attack is surfacing.

“Breathe!” She sinks to the floor with me. Her hand rests on my shoulders. Her attempts to ground me fall flat. Moments like this I'm beyond help. She knows me too well. It's always been an unspoken understanding. She doesn't ask: I don't tell. I quietly fall apart. She's always there to pick up the pieces. Maybe it’s time to be truthful how fucking broken I am. She deserves answers.

“I'm broken, Vesp.” My voice is void of emotion.

She releases me, rearing back. “No. You're not broken. Don't you say that.” Her thumb rubs soothing circles over my shoulder blade.

I shake my head and tuck my hair behind my ear. “No. I have severe depression and panic episodes that stem from my childhood. I've spent my entire upbringing being bounced around from hotel to hotel. Mama always promised me we'd be like a normal family, with a dog, a white picket fence and school I could stay in long enough to make friends in. Good things never last though.”

My voice is low and hollow. I hardly recognize myself when I'm in the throes of an episode. I know I'm on the verge of a depressive episode, too. It's exhausting. “She couldn't stop. The money just got recycled into her veins. Even then, when her body became old and worn out it was my turn . . .” My voice cracks at my confession. Realization falls over her pained eyes.

I screw my eyes shut, blocking out the past. My fingernails dig into my palm. This is harder than I ever imagined. I can see it all in the back of my mind like a movie. Haunting me with memories I didn't ask for, taking pieces of me and replacing them with darkness.

“You don't understand, Vesp.” My eyes spring open; teardrops streak down my face. “It's what I've always been good at. Sex. It's my punishment for not being good enough.