Chapter 22 Damon #2
"Fuck, Gerald is back? Does he know about the mole yet?
" River swears under his breath, and I glance in his direction, seeing the tension instantly wracking his body.
I'm a bogeyman, but fucking Gerald Weyburn is the devil, so I get where he's coming from.
There will be consequences to pay for all that shit last night, and the things we missed.
"He knows the streets are about to run with a river of blood," Cross replies, his hands fisting at his sides.
I get distracted from the conversation as heat spikes behind my eyes, and the shadowy voices screech with laughter.
Shadows lunge across the quad, darting under students’ feet, making my heart stumble in its next beat, and a choking sound leaves my lips.
Cross doesn’t see them, doesn’t hear the voices, but I do.
They crawl up my spine, clawing at my skull: Kill him.
Kill her. Kill everyone. Bleed the fear out of them.
Bathe in their terror, you know you want to, Damon.
I drag in a breath that burns my bruised ribs.
My body’s screaming, the sun’s frying my brain, and every sound around me scrapes raw against my nerves.
I want to laugh at Cross, at his fury, at the whole goddamn theatre of this place, with its ivy-covered walls and its perfect little sheep.
Instead, I smirk, low and dangerous, and watch them all scatter faster.
Maybe they’re right, and I'm the monster they dream about at night, and perhaps today, I’m ready to prove it and go on a killing spree.
"Brave little Hellstorm. Is she still breathing this morning?
" River questions, and I watch the tick on Cross' temple throb.
Interesting. She seems to be really getting under his skin.
I haven't seen Cross affected by a woman like this before.
In fact, other than Gerald, very little gets to him.
His emotions are usually locked inside of him like Fort Knox.
"Not for long if I have my way," Cross grumbles under his breath. Lies, the shadows scream, dancing menacingly all around him, and I have to shake my head to clear my sight.
"Why the fuck did we have to be here so early this morning, Cross?
" I scrutinize Cross's appearance with suspicion.
Yeah, we all had a shit night, especially with everything that went on with the mole situation, which is still precarious at best. He looks worse than River, though, and River spends his life worrying about everything and playing out every possible outcome in his head.
It's as if he's spent all night up and stewing.
The dark purple tint underneath his eyes makes me suspicious and wary, while the bruises on his face, a gift from my fists, fill me with pride.
It could be that his dad is back, with his new blushing slut of a bride, and all the shit with the Cabanos is hitting the fan, or could it be that thoughts of his new wilful, and sexy as fuck, sister are keeping him up?
Everything in me wants to poke the surly bear to see how long it will take him to explode, even though I know that when he does, it will have deadly consequences.
"So Sim got balls deep, did he? I'll bet she screamed like a whore.
I've seen Sim's cock in the locker room during fights, and that thing is an anaconda even when not hard. "
"Jesus, fuck, Damon! Read the room!" River chastises me, but I see him attempting to hide his smirk. River is the placater amongst us, but don't let those angelic features fool you; he's just as much of a demon as the rest of us, and he gets off on creating chaos.
"ENOUGH!" Cross roars, and birds scatter into frightened flight, and anyone heading in our path abruptly turns around, and heads in the opposite direction.
"This is fucking serious! Do I need to remind you two fuckers that Sim defied us in front of a crowd last night, and that little bitch fought you like a fucking deranged tiger, almost knocking you out, Damon?
What kind of message do you think that sends to our enemies, and anyone who doesn't want to follow our rules in Soule?
" Cross takes a menacing step toward me, grabbing the front of my shirt and hauling me to my feet.
"What do you think the consequences will be if your father finds out, or worse, mine, after all the shit with the mole, huh? "
At the mention of my father, the bile I've been tediously holding back decides it won't be restrained, and I push away from Cross, and barf into a rose bush next to the bench River and I were occupying mere moments ago.
"Jesus fuck, you're a mess, Damon. I need you to lay off the drugs for a bit and get your head straight.
Shit is hitting the fan, we need to move the rest of the weapons, close ranks, and find out if anyone else has betrayed us," Cross growls with impatience.
Easier said than done, fucker. I shut my eyes to prevent seeing the shadows making their swift way over to me, sensing weakness.
"What about your bitch sister?" I croak as I force my body to sit up, and my head spins momentarily.
Cross eyes me as if he's considering his options, and that causes a chill to slide down my spine.
That's never a good sign when he gets that look; it could mean death for a lot of people, including one pretty unhinged princess I have yet to taste.
"What do you want us to do, Cross?" River questions as I use my forearm to wipe at my sour mouth, and try to collect myself, refusing to be a weak ass bitch, and allow anyone to get one up on me, even if it's just deranged shadows my psychotic mind conjures up.
"First, we're going to clean the ranks, lay waste to anyone we even slightly suspect of talking to the feds. Anyone, that is, that the Cabanos haven't already silenced. My understanding is that Diego Cabano has already gone on a killing spree."
His words conjure an image of a dark-haired, cruel queen with a devastating smile, blowing me a kiss. Did I imagine all that, or did it happen? Maybe Cross is right, and I need to scale back on the drugs.
"River, you need to find something on Sim.
I want that dog leashed, and at my beck and call.
Use anything we can find to bring that fucker to heel, and see the error of his ways.
We're also going to make Olivia Springhill's stay here in Soule unbearable.
She'll either break, cower at our feet, and beg for mercy, or run for her life.
Either way, we win," Cross growls, his nostrils flaring, and the vein I always want to slit in this throat throbbing.
I meet River's eyes, and we share a thought; neither of us believes it will be that easy.
Cross is underestimating the unhinged princess.
She won't leave without a battle, and as for her cowering at my feet, I would rather she do it with my cock lodged in her pretty throat, as I remove her ability to breathe.
As for Sim, that fucker, he's slippery, keeping his hands clean, even while soaking them with blood.
"You're up first with Olivia, Damon, do your worst. River, you're with me, we're hunting rats," Cross growls as he stomps away toward the economics building.
"Jesus fuck, he's unleashed death on her," River mumbles, "Try not to kill her on school grounds, Damon. It makes for a messy cleanup."
Fuck, this day just got so much better.