52. Orion
ORION
Involving other people in my inner world is probably a mistake, but I was so angry after I left them that I could barely sleep, and that’s not like me.
It’s only been a few hours, the sun isn’t up, and I could just fuck with Arabella my own way.
Unfortunately, what I learned from last night's fantasies is that I’m only capable of murdering her.
Truthfully, I’m not ready to start a full-blown war with the Aragona family, and my revenge will require some tact, which will also require help.
Asking for that help is the last thing I want to do, but unfortunately, Parker is the only motherfucker up to the task.
Lex is too neat and practical. He probably already has a detailed plan of attack that will require patience, and patience is what I don’t fucking have.
I knock on Parker’s door, not giving a fuck that it’s four a.m. I’m going to catch him before his run.
I've been on edge since last night. My nervous energy is too great. My hand shakes too hard to even play with my coin. That coin and repetitious movement bring me back to myself when the thoughts are too much, but my usual tricks aren’t enough this morning.
I’m furious with my brother, betrayed by his carelessness, but I have a lifetime to get back at him for never respecting my things.
The brutal revenge I want to inflict immediately? That belongs to Arabella Aragona.
The big brute finally opens the door with a scowl on his face, and it only deepens when he sees me waiting for him. He schools his expression quickly and smiles.
“Yes?” he asks.
“I want in,” I say, shouldering my way into the room and slamming the door shut behind me.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” His innocent act is hardly believable. I could see the wheels turning while he was shouting about making them pay.
“I know you’re planning something for the nasty fucks who messed with Sable, and I want in.”
There’s no time for pleasantries, and I wouldn’t want to give them to him anyway.
Anger courses through my veins as I wait for him to respond, and he stares at me.
Something ugly builds inside me, and I need an outlet.
I stand right in the middle of his self-congratulatory room, waiting for him to respond like he’s the damn king.
Christ, he has so many shiny trophies. I just know he jerks off to his own image constantly. Maybe I should smash one.
“Why?” Parker asks, continuing the controlled act.
“They need to pay for hurting her.”
His face changes from annoyed to surprised, and I feel itchy all over.
I hate showing anything to anyone, especially this fucker.
People confuse Parker’s good boy persona for fact, but I know he’s a smart, calculating asshole.
Giving him a glimpse of what I feel inside is enough for him to know everything he needs about me.
My anger is boiling over, seeping through the cracks. I don’t want to give him this power.
Parker nods, putting the fake face away and revealing his own.
“Why do you care about harm coming to Sable in particular?” Is he taunting me?
“When did I ever allow someone to fuck with something that belonged to me?” I shoot back.
“With the other Offerings? All the time.” Parker chuckles.
“That’s not true,” I lie. I let Soren’s little girlfriend get away with nearly as bad last year.
“It is.”
“Fine, I won’t let anyone touch my things anymore.”
“I fuck her all the time.” He thinks this is funny, wants to press me until I flip out, but that doesn’t bother me. Sharing with them never has, since we were taught to do so from the earliest age. Sable is his as much as she is mine.
“This isn’t about that, and you know it. Arabella is a fucking bitch, and she needs to pay for what she did last night.”
“Liliana was involved too,” he says. “Is this about something more personal? Like jealousy over your brother?” I hate that he has any ability to read me.
“They’ll both pay,” I answer, refusing to acknowledge that my brother is most certainly a part of my anger. “But I don’t care about Liliana.”
“She was Sable’s closest friend and ditched her right after she lost everything. Sable broke the fucking bitch’s nose. That has something to do with this.”
I grunt in acknowledgment. “My priority is Arabella,” I tell him, knowing she’s the more dangerous of the pair.
“Either you go for both or we don’t do anything together, Rook.” He pokes me. “There’s no in between. Are you in?” he asks, feeling very satisfied with himself.
“Why do you think I’m here?” I scowl. “Not to check out your stupid fucking trophy collection.”
“You should. It’s athleticism at its finest. I’m a great role model.” He puffs his chest and makes that good American boy face that makes me sick.
“What’s the game, Hollow?”
“No game,” he says as he grabs his bags. I didn’t realize he would already be headed out, and he’s pissing me off now. “But I won’t partner with you if you can’t admit you care about Sable, and that’s why you’re so angry.”
“Come on, enough bullshit.” I chuckle at his attempt at shit psychology.
“Hiding your fucking feelings like always. When are you going to grow up?”
“Fuck you,” I spit.
“Tell me you’re angry because they hurt Sable, and we can go do some damage. Not because Sable is something you own but because she’s Sable.”
I shouldn’t have come to him. It wasn’t worth whatever this bullshit is. Regret bites my tongue as I watch him. He looks calm, as if pushing my buttons is nothing. He’s done it enough times, I guess.
“I’m not about to braid your hair and tell you about my feelings. Accept my reasons or don’t.”
“Braid my ball hair, Rook, if that’s what makes you feel better, but you care about her.” He laughs, tipping his head back.
“Forget it,” I say, moving to the door. I’ve had enough of this. I'm just going to strangle the bitch.
“Come on, Rook. Don’t be a baby. All I want is one little admission, and then we can play your games.”
I turn to him, my eyes murderous. “An admission?” I mock. “I’m not fucking in love with her.”
“You know she’s different. Would you be here right now if it were last year's Offering?” I open my mouth to argue, but he continues, “Or the one before that?”
“No,” I say, ready to kill him instead of Arabella.
“We all care about Sable. Stop playing this shit game and accept it. She's ours to take care of. Not because she’s the Offering but because she’s ours.”
He waits for the words I don’t want to give him. It’s easy to say that I want to fuck Sable and play with her. It’s easier to say I hate Arabella because she messed with something of ours. But to admit that Sable is under my skin…
“You fucking want something from me? Proof I’m committed, ” I taunt. “Well, I do not give one singular fuck, not about you, not me, not anything.”
My rage is everywhere as I turn and open the door to the rest of his apartment. He follows me, calling my name, but I’m already standing in his small but cutting-edge kitchen. He stands at my back as I flip through his cutlery drawer.
“Looking for something?” he asks just as I see the knife block. I don’t answer him, but I find what I’m looking for, a paring knife, small and deadly sharp. His eyes double in size, and he stands, watching me carefully.
“You’re not actually going to try to kill me, are you?”
“Fuck you, Hollow. You think I care? I don’t give a shit about anything.”
He steps toward me, thinking I mean to attack him, but I sink the knife into my forearm instead.
Rapidly twisting the blade, I create a sloppy S.
Blood drips down my arm, but I barely feel it.
Parker's eyes widen even bigger, and a brief flash of satisfaction courses through me that this didn’t go the way he planned.
The A follows; the pain still hasn’t come, but the adrenaline is like a drug.
I breathe shakily as I carve the B. Her image fills my mind, and the coursing pleasure filling me sure feels like care.
It’s not. She’s just an addiction. The L reminds me of the word Parker clearly wishes I would say, and the knife cuts deeper than I mean for it to go.
E might as well stand for everything because Sable’s resilience and beautiful smile are all around me, and she’s not even here.
The letters shine in scarlet red. S A B L E. It’s not the best penmanship, yet it feels so right. The blood dripping down my arm is nothing. The biggest wound sits in my chest, the poison ivy of Sable Briarwick growing every moment and leaving me breathless.
“Happy?” I ask a still open-mouthed Parker.
“Let’s go,” he agrees.