Chapter 2
BLADE
She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts.
I’d been stealing glances of her from across the football field, trying to make it discreet that I’m actually only here to get my daily dose of her presence. Just like most places I follow her to. I always make it seem like I’m just hanging around, flipping through a book or scrolling on my phone.
But the truth? The truth is I can’t go more than a day or two without seeing my little obsession.
I notice everything about her.
The way she always wears her blonde hair with a pink or white bow, most days in a half-up, half-down style. The way her green eyes, flecked with hazel, light up every time she reads whatever book she’s currently obsessed with. She sits in the library every day at three p.m. sharp, the same corner spot, and you can bet your ass I’m there when I can be.
It’s like clockwork now—whenever I start getting that itch , I find her and trail closely behind. Close enough to see but far enough to blend into the background. Her routine is burned into my memory, and I’ve gotten good at watching without being watched.
But today was different. Today she looked directly at me, and I couldn’t look away. Damn it, I tried, but it’s like she cast a fucking spell on me.
We’ve barely spoken two sentences to each other now, and I’m already going crazy. Past going crazy. Every moment I spend watching her only makes me want more, like an addict who’s never satisfied. And it fuels these fantasies I have of chaining her to me, of never letting her go.
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t want her this much. Every rational part of my brain is screaming at me to leave her alone, to turn around and go home. She doesn’t belong in my world. The corruption, the bloodshed, the crime. It’ll swallow her whole. But how the hell can I stay away when every cell in my body is drawn to her like a moth to a flame?
I’m usually not the type of guy who lets his emotions take over like this. With the job I have, the moment you get caught up with senseless things like feelings, you become a liability. It makes you weak. But she’s intoxicating, fuck , she’s driving me to insanity but I’m too far gone to care now.
I’ve always been the type to have obsessions—odd little things that I fixate on. Once something catches my interest, I can’t let it go. Not until I’ve dissected every detail, understood every nuance. Then I get bored and drop it. It doesn’t really matter what it is. A certain food, a hobby that I randomly pick up.
Except none of these obsessions have ever been a person before. This is the first time I’ve found myself needing someone like the air I breathe, and that scares the ever-loving shit out of me.
She’s standing on the field sidelines, her back to me, talking with her friend. But I can tell she can feel me watching. I can tell because she fumbles with the hem of the ridiculously short cheer skirt, and she usually picks at her clothes when she’s nervous. Not to mention the tension in her posture, the slight tilt of her head. I’ve studied her body language enough to know when it’s being forced.
I need to do something about the uniforms. She’s clearly not comfortable wearing it. And oh yeah, the fucking thing shows off how beautiful her body is, the body that belongs to me , to other guys. My brain screams at me to go over there and slit the throats of every football player within a two-foot radius of her.
Shit.
I gotta get a grip.
When did I become the jealous type?
I take a deep breath, refocusing on what I’m here for. Getting my fix of Amelia. Then, like a dark cloud on what originally was a sunny fucking day, I see Catalina strutting towards me like she owns the damn field. My jaw tightens, and I glare at her, shaking my head in a silent warning. But does she get the hint? Of course not. I head up onto the bleachers but she still follows behind me.
Stupid bitch.
“Still watching her, huh?” Catalina’s voice grates on my damn nerves. She steps closer, but something on the field catches my full attention instead—Amelia laughing. Fuck, I have to take a video of this. “It’s been a month. You’re not bored watching her yet?”
I pull out my phone, zoom in on the camera app, and snap a quick video of Amelia laughing. This will go nicely with my collection. “No, but I am bored of this conversation,” I reply flatly, finally looking down in her direction, and that’s when I see it. The scratches. “What’s with your face?”
“Oh. I hit a tree branch while running to the field.”
“So that’s why you were late to practice. And Amelia must’ve hit the same branch because you both were late.”
Give a liar a good way out and they’ll always take the bait.
“Yup. I tried to warn her it was there.”
Gotcha .
“Hm.” My finger taps against my leg, tapping to the beat of the countdown ticking away in my head. A coping trick my old therapist taught me—to keep myself from launching her off these bleachers like a football just for laying a hand on Amelia.
Five… four… three…
“You know, you’re really pathetic, basically stalking a girl who doesn’t even want you. I’m sure if you asked she’d fuck you so you can get it out of your system and move on. You look like a creep.”
One.
I grind my teeth at her comment and stand up, towering over her. “You’re lucky I don’t fucking hit women. Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to leave my sight in the next three seconds, and after that, you’re going to leave me the hell alone for good. And listen very closely.” I lean in, my voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “If you ever—and I mean ever —touch her again, your body will end up in pieces in the Rio Grande River.”
“You’re crazy—”
“Three…”
She glares at me, her eyes a mix of shock and simmering anger. “Whatever.” Before I can even make it down to two, she storms off like a toddler, stomping the whole way. She’s never been told no before in her life, and it shows.
We fucked a couple of times, and out of nowhere, she started bothering me in public, trying to make it seem like we were dating or something. As if I’d be able to put up with her for more than ten minutes. I had to publicly stage a fake breakup just so she’d leave me the hell alone.
My phone lights up beside me with a text. The fuck does Harvey want?
Harvey: Stop by my office? I have a word from John
Now I’m gonna have to ride a half an hour to this bastard’s house. I hate this shit with the Serpents. The very thought of working for them makes my skin crawl. I hate Harvey, John, and all the other idiots. I hate always having to be pulled away to do something. And worst of all, I hate what they forced me to become.
Letting out a sigh, I type in Amelia’s birthday as my phone passcode and fire off a quick text to Rhett, telling him I need a replacement at the football field to watch her.
One small perk of my position is the promise John kept—giving me Rhett and his twin brother, Rhys, to use as I please. They have to do whatever I say, which means they’re my little helpers, ready to spy on Amelia whenever I can’t be there myself.
I only call on Rhett to come though, because Rhys… is a little weird about watching her. I could force him to do it, but if someone is going to look after her, I rather it be someone who cares about her well-being. And between the two, that’s Rhett.
Confident enough that he’ll show up, I leave before he gets here, picking up the book I was reading while waiting for the practice to start. I chose this book because about a week ago, I saw her reading it in the library. The cover was filled with roses, so I assumed it was one of those chick flicks in book form. Perfect conversation starter, right? I once read about a serial killer who drew the attention of his victim by reading the same books as her.
But skimming through it at practice, I realized the pages were filled with filth. Pure filth. On five pages alone, I counted the word pussy written fifteen times. So naturally, I bookmarked some things to try with her. As any rational man would do.
Traffic is a grueling bitch and when I finally make it into Harvey’s home office, the scent of stale coffee and cheap cologne hits me. Harvey offers a small smile, but I don’t return it. Every time I see his face, I’m flooded with memories of the cellar— dark, suffocating, a prison where I broke my promise and traded in my humanity. I haven’t liked him ever since he dug those nails into my thigh, and the fact that he’s an asshole only adds fuel to the fire.
He waits until I sink into the chair opposite him to speak, in his usual raspy tone that sets my teeth on edge. “So, no girlfriend?”
“You called me all the way here just to ask me that?” I clench my fist, suppressing the urge to drive it into his smug face.
He chuckles. “Well, let me elaborate. You’re almost twenty-two. It’s time to start making sons, who will one day take your position after you retire. The future generation of Serpents.”
“Bullshit, time to start making sons.”
“You’re already a senior in college. So in John’s eyes, you have two options. Either be forced to have kids with someone he picks or someone you pick. I’d suggest the latter.”
“I’d suggest you shut the fuck up and stop trying to tell me what to do with my life. I’ll have kids whenever I decide. Screw you and John.”
Another reason I hate this group. Their ridiculous tradition to force every member to have at least two sons to produce new members. The higher ranking you are, the sooner they want you to start.
But, I gave up my soul already. I gave in to John’s deal to take over his position. I went through the years of torture. If I don’t get to live life how I want, it would’ve all been for nothing. So they can take their rules and traditions and shove it up their ass.
Harvey shakes his head. “This is why John didn’t want to discuss this with you himself. You’re stubborn and hot-headed.”
That’s so funny it almost makes me laugh, considering John forcibly beat me until I was this fucking way.
Take what’s yours or someone else will.
Weakness is a death sentence.
Never ask, demand.
Your power lies in their fear.
All mantras he’s drilled into me, etched deep in my mind with every slash of my skin. He trained me to be a cold-hearted assassin and a leader, so that’s what I’m going to be.
“Like I said, fuck you, Harvey. Don’t call me back here unless it’s important.”
As I’m walking out the bastard’s front door, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
Rhett: Some football player tried to be all over them. I went over there and started flirting with her friend to shoo him away. Even got her friend’s number
Me: Get his name
I’m going to rip his fucking teeth out with pliers and feed them to him down his throat.
I have to claim her soon.
Give her my necklace to wear so everyone knows she’s mine .
And when she’s mine, no prick will think to even look at her, let alone approach her.
I could’ve claimed her as mine the first day I saw her, but I’ve been taught to make calculated moves. Learn your prey before you strike. I took my time, observing her from a distance, studying her every quirk. It’s to the point I could probably tell if she’s lying just by the look in her eyes. Or when she’s nervous, or sad.
Then the thrill of lurking in the shadows became addictive, transforming into a game that I couldn’t stop myself from playing.