Royal Havoc

14. Burnt Strings

fourteen

Burnt Strings

Onyx: 2024

Z oey side-eyes me nervously from the driver’s seat of her SUV, carefully watching the road and me as I yank down the visor to inspect my throat.

“That mother fucker,” I growl, examining the small bruises already forming on my neck from his fingertips.

“I tried to —”

My eyes dart to her, glaring across the cab as I slam the visor shut. “I don’t need to be warned. I’m pissed he thinks he won. And he marked me again,” I spit, barely able to swallow my rage.

Her brows raise, eyes shooting wide. “He just choked you out in front of a crowd of strangers, and that’s why you’re mad?” she questions, confusion lacing her words, staring out the windshield in disbelief.

Rolling my eyes hard. “No shit. Thanks for recapping the forgettable moment,” I grumble sarcastically. “Take me back,” I order harshly.

“Hell no. Vex and Gage are already pissed at me.”

Sighing loudly at her lame excuse. “Fine. Drop me off here. I’ll get an Uber,” I tell her distractedly, pulling the app up on my phone.

Out of nowhere, hysterical laughter fills the cab, capturing my full attention. She glances at my shocked face and erupts into another fit of laughter.

Now, I’m really pissed.

I wait impatiently while she catches her breath. “You can’t even get a decent cup of coffee in this town. You think an Uber’s going to magically appear?” she chuckles, biting her lip to keep from laughing again.

“Holy hell, no wonder Mom left this shit hole,” I mumble under my breath, staring out the passenger window, hating my ghostly gramps even more.

I have to concede due to my predicament because what other choice do I have? The stupid dizzy spell his choking induced lasted long enough for her to get me to her SUV. By the time we headed down the hill and cleared the gate I was fine. Meaning, I was forced to leave my Jeep at school for no reason.

Now, I’ll be stranded!

“If I were you. Maybe give Vex a day —”

“The fuck?” I squeak, noticing my throat’s a little sore. “I haven’t even attended a full day at that place yet. Which is going to have the donor bag crawling up my ass.” My head is already hurting from the thought of him trying to lecture me.

Her brows pull tight. “Why? It's not like anyone’s going to do anything. You could literally piss down the halls, and no one would challenge it,” she scoffs like I’m the idiot of this conversation.

She pulls into our cul-de-sac, stopping at the end of my driveway.

Turning to face her. “Why?” I ask, trying not to sound stupid and hating that I’m out of the loop.

Knowledge is key, and I have none. Which really pisses me off.

“Huh? Why what?”

I tilt my head, pursing my lips. “Seriously?”

She sighs loudly, staring at me, debating over something. Her eyes drop to my throat, brows dipping silently in thought. “You’ll figure it out soon enough.” My eyes instantly burn from the stretch as my jaw drops. “I’m not supposed to get involved. Resea —”

“Say it, and I swear to god I’m throwing my phone at your face,” I warn harshly, glaring across the cab at her shocked eyes.

She can shove this research nonsense up her ass!

Slipping from the passenger side without a word, I swallow my rage and storm up the driveway. Already thinking of an excuse to give Mr. Respect Me when I ask him to take me to pick up my Jeep. Let’s be honest; I don’t see him having much to say about PMS.

Maybe a little period-talk will save me from pointless lecturing.

Dropping my worthless book bag by the door because, at this rate, I’m going to end up flunking out of school. I’ll be lucky to get a job selling ice cream at the shack in town. Then, I’ll be stuck living here , watching the whore parade for the rest of my worthless life.

Although, I’ve not seen any signs of anyone doing the walk of shame…

My frenzied nerves set off layers of anxiety, wrapping me in madness. Anger knocks at my brain in time with my steps to the bathroom to find some Tylenol. After swallowing two, I pull a joint from its hiding spot. If this morning indicates how my day will go, I’ll need the blissful numbing to get back to a manageable head space.

Inhaling deeply, eyes roaming around the room, the same question I’ve yet to have answered weighing on me.

Who the hell bought all of this stuff?

Strolling from the bathroom, lost in thought, I make a mental note to call Nolan. I hope he’ll have some insight on the items that appeared from thin air, and information on my privacy rights.

The vase of tulips catches my eye before I notice movement by the door. “What the hell?” I groan, stopping in the middle of the living room.

Vex raises his hand, and I notice my fob dangling from his finger. The anger I’m harboring from last night’s shenanigans and this morning’s showdown presses at my nerve endings like a toothache, fucking with my buzz. For the moment, I choose to ignore it, allowing the curiosity running rampant inside me to win over.

What’s he up to?

The way he’s staring at my neck tells me it thrills him to see how he’s marked me. Almost as if he’s claimed me.

Once upon a time, I wished for our happy ending. He would be the one to rescue me and keep me safe from the haunting fear hovering over me. I believed it when he promised to be my king.

Nightmares are the real fairy tales.

“Don’t you get tired of chasing something you’ll never have?” I ask coldly.

“It almost sounds like you’re starting to believe your lies,” he counters lazily, dropping the fob on the small table by the door.

Crossing my arms and popping a hip. “ Lies? You’re fucking delusional. What part of I. Hate. You. Can’t you process?” I argue, growing tired of repeating myself.

I’m about to turn and leave him to stew in his own ignorance. “On your knees,” he grits, projecting his anger across the room at me.

His confidence is adorable. The fact he thinks he can control me is laughable to say the least. I decide who and what I wanna play with because puppets aren’t really my thing. My strings were cut years ago and burned in the wreckage he caused.

Although… he’s obviously up to something. I’ve never had much patience. However, his puzzle might be fun to solve.

Ready to lose myself in a childish version of make-believe, I lower myself to my knees. Accepting his invitation to play.

“Crawl,” he orders, pointing to the spot in front of him.

I may not be a voyeur, but private pleasure is a world I’m down to get lost in. When part of your soul lives to crave attention, it’s like a desperate scream begging to feel wanted, tormenting your insides until a switch flips, turning all your cravings into madness.

My hands glide effortlessly over the fluffy carpet as I hold his stare. He’s going to be totally disappointed if he thinks I’ll ever play a submissive role.

Trust is an award I’ll never give.

Leaning back on my heels, peering up at molten liquid scorching me. His hand fists in my hair, yanking me to my feet. The burn from my scalp wiggles its way down to my belly, punching at my core, making me gasp from the pleasure.

“You’ve pushed my patience,” he rasps, leaning down to my level, filling my senses with mint and leather. “So much time, little spade.” Dragging his free thumb roughly over my lips.

His words break the spell he’s captured me in. “What?” I whisper, blinking away the last of our connection.

“Mmhmm,” he hums deeply, tightening his grip on my hair. “Time. Frustration. Whoring,” he rasps, running his nose up the side of my cheek, breathing me in.

“What the hell are you talking about? You’ve got me mixed up,” I hiss, anger surging under my heated skin. “I’m not a whore,” I protest, wiggling, trying to break free from his grasp.

“Says the little slut that just crawled to eat my dick,” he taunts evilly, holding me with a death grip. “How wet’s that pussy now?”

“Fuck off,” I hiss, hands yanking at his wrist, desperately needing space to breathe and figure out what the hell he’s talking about.

“I’m sure you’d love that. Me forcing you to gag on my cock. Before fucking you into an oblivion. Right? That’s what you want?” he chatters, pissing me off even more.

“I don’t want shit from you.”

He chuckles maliciously, steely eyes burning me. “ And a liar. I expected more from you, little spade.” Shaking his head in disappointment, finally releasing me.

I stumble back a few steps. “You’re fucking delusional,” I throw out, trying to process why I even care about the shit he’s said.

He glances towards the vase on the table. “Don’t leave this fucking house. I’ll be back to finish this later,” he orders angrily, turning to leave.

“You don’t own me,” I giggle at his audacity.

Hand on the doorknob, glaring over his shoulder. “Fuck around and find out,” he warns before slamming the door behind him.

I huff through my nose, stunned by his crazy. It’s a brand I’ve never had, and I’ve messed with some borderline whack jobs.

Did that seriously just happen? Or did I dream that shit up?