33. CHAPTER 33
Nic
My lungs burn as I drag deep on the cigarette between my fingers. I let the smoke obscure my vision—my pretty demon and her two angels beside her. The wall I lean against is cold, mirroring the vice grip on my heart.
Vipers’ smoking area is busy but there’s a clear shot right to them. Like the Red Sea parting. Fitting since the lights are that colour tonight.
Haz is perched on a pile of crates, Tilda between her legs with Elly teasing her with kisses. Tilda laughs, inaudible to me, pressing back into Haz.
Wholesome.
I flick my cig away, watching it extinguish under a passing foot.
Sickening.
When did it get to this?
Feel like I’ve missed a step or a thousand.
They hadn’t told me. Not even Haz.
Even through the vodka flooding my veins, that hurts.
I’m the one to blame. I’m not ignorant. But if one of those girls came home professing a hatred for someone, you bet I’d hate them too. No questions asked. I thought we were tight like that.
All over a girl too. Fucking cliché.
‘Never seen you so gone on someone.’
I don’t stir at Skylar’s voice. I’ve seen her skulking around tonight. After Haz, no doubt. But since she’s otherwise occupied, I’m an alright backup.
‘You don’t mean a thing to me.’
Skylar laughs. ‘Fucker. You know I’m not talking about me. Clever, though,’ she muses, watching them too. ‘Letting them do all the hard work. Breaking her in. Getting her used to pussy.’ On tiptoes, she puts her mouth to my ear. ‘Waiting to pounce.’
‘Skylar.’ I lean away from her. ‘Either fuck off or be fucked.’
By the way she presses into me, I know she’s chosen the latter.
‘I can pretend to be her, if you want.’ She picks up a dark strand of hair and twirls it. It’s similar, about the only thing that is. ‘I know I’m a troll but get you drunk enough and I could pass.’
‘Believe me, you wouldn’t want to be fucked that way.’ I toss her a quick glare. ‘And don’t speak shit. You’re not a troll. I don’t fuck trolls.’
She flutters her falsies. ‘Thanks, babes.’
A group passes in front of us. Like fog, I wait for it to clear. They’re still there, Haz’s hands sneaking up her crop top. Tilda bats them away, shooting her a sultry glare over her shoulder. Elly draws her back round by her chin, taking her lips with her own.
I swallow, almost able to feel that kiss. How can my heart hate something so much whilst my pussy’s saying something different?
‘Damn, love to be a fly on their wall tonight,’ Skylar murmurs.
‘Rather be the swatter.’ Pushing off the wall, I avert my eyes. ‘Come on then, cutie. Let’s bounce.’
Skylar brightens. ‘Your place or mine?’
‘Neither. The Vaults.’ Grasping the back of her neck, I pull her close. ‘Can’t say you’re going to enjoy this.’
‘That’s why safe words were invented.’ She takes one last look at Tilda as we leave, something as eager as it is wary in her face. ‘I’m her tonight then?’
‘At your own peril.’
I thought I’d feel lighter leaving them all behind, but this feeling deep within thrashes like a nest of angry snakes.
It’s been months and she’s still none the wiser. Every time she looks into my eyes, hears my voice, feels me—how can she not know?
I don’t get it. She could have changed her gender, tattooed her whole body, chopped off her head and I’d still know it was her. She’s still in my DNA. Still the witch to my familiar. That’s what I was to her. An extension, an extra appendage.
How many times did she parade me around, telling me her secrets, letting me in on her spells and prayers?
There’s only one thing she never came to me for, the very thing that blew us apart.
I’m sick of her not knowing. I can’t carry this alone anymore. It’s too much, too big. I need to share this pain.
But more than that, I’m sick of her going unpunished.
I send a quick apology to Haz and Elly as we come up to the shore. They’re not gonna like it. They’ll have to choose. And I’m not sure it’ll be me. Maybe it shouldn’t be. Makes things easier. Purge them all. Run away again. There has to be someplace this can’t reach me.
I shake my head, teeth gritted against the idea.
I’m not doing that. No more running. No more letting Tilda off the hook. I should have told her who I was the night she was in my kitchen, staring into the face of her past that was just a stranger to her.
Well, I’m done being a stranger. It’s time to end it. Time to make her remember.
It’s time Matilda Kingston gets what she deserves.
Phew!
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