Chapter 6
AREK
Over the next month, there’s a chance that I truly do become a stalker. Besides class, and when I’m sure he’s asleep in his room, Kylen is rarely out of my sight. He visits Hush Anonymous seven more times during the following month, and I fuck him like I’m possessed.
He greets me now. In the dark, as soon as he knows it’s me, he reaches for me. Tugging my mouth to his so I can swallow the nerves that boil up with every visit. His relief when he realizes it’s me again tastes like sugar.
Kylen slowly comes out of his shell in the dark room. He doesn’t ever ask for what he wants. I’m not entirely sure he knows what he wants. He knows what he doesn’t want, and that’s his dick being involved.
I have ideas about this. Perhaps it’s a form of body dysphoria. Maybe he’s not comfortable in his body. I remember Adalaide struggled a lot with it for many years. That might be why he doesn’t like his dick touched. Because he doesn’t feel like he should have one? It doesn’t match who he is?
That was the initial reason that I started watching Kylen as closely as I did. I was looking for the same signs that I began to recognize in Adalaide all those years ago. When she first started showing signs that she was uncomfortable with how she looked. How she felt in her skin; in her body.
I hated those years. I hated that I couldn’t magically fix it for her.
The world says that people like me don’t experience feelings like a normal person.
I’ve come to understand that all the so-called ‘experts’ aren’t actually diagnosed with antisocial disorders, though.
They’re making assumptions by observation and ‘cases’ about psychopaths or suspected sociopaths. They don’t actually know what we feel.
I think I grew up in a unique situation, though. My twin brother and I are clinically diagnosed psychopaths. We showed signs at a very young age. Signs that my grandfather recognized right away. That my uncles recognized having grown up with my father.
They allowed the diagnosis, but they didn’t allow any treatment or therapy.
They maintained that there was nothing wrong with Orev and me.
We’re programmed the way we’re programmed.
It’s about control and understanding ourselves, which might take more work than someone who is neurotypical, but that doesn’t mean we’re fucked up like society says we are.
One of the biggest things I learned about my emotional state was that I don’t feel the entire wide array of emotions that, say, my sisters do. That my dad Oakley, does. However, I feel some things; I feel them differently, but I feel them all the same.
I don’t feel empathy. When I see those commercials about sick and dying children, there’s no pang in my chest. There’s no desire to help them or donate money or blood.
I don’t sympathize with the homeless or the veteran who lost his leg on a mine while he fought for this country’s freedom or whatever.
I don’t cringe when I watch someone getting kneed in the balls or when a little girl cries because she’s bullied at school.
I feel none of that.
It’s a different story when it comes to my sisters, though. Watching Adalaide struggle for years had me irrationally mad. I wanted to break into laboratories and torture the idiots who couldn’t wave a magic wand and give my sister the body she was supposed to be born into.
That was when I felt the first waves of true murderous rage inside me, and my hand itched to do something about it. I needed someone to suffer. Someone to suffer more than my sister, as if that might take some of her suffering away somehow.
It wasn’t long after those first days of needing to hurt someone that Orev and I were introduced to the dark underbelly of Van Doren. We were given a target in a controlled environment. A person who hurt people like my sister. And we were allowed to tear him limb from limb, however we wanted.
Kylen moving in my periphery pulls me from my reminiscing, and I watch him walk out of the room while I pretend to read my textbook. Giving him a minute, I follow him down the hall. He’s walking with Nolan, and given the path they’re taking, I think they’re heading to the editing office.
Looking for the signs that Kylen is uncomfortable in his body, like Adalaide had, ended last week or so.
I don’t think that’s what it is. I don’t think he doesn’t want his dick touched because of body dysphoria.
I don’t think he feels uncomfortable in his body, though I can’t know for sure without asking outright.
Part of me wants to ask about it, but the only time that he knows me is in the darkness. That’s the only time he’s not uncomfortable in my presence. Asking him outside of Hush Anonymous means I’m breaking the illusion of anonymity. It means I’m giving myself away.
Asking him while we’re in the room means I’m breaking the moment.
Something tells me that there’s a reason I’m not going to like, and it’ll end what we’re doing.
I want to know. Part of me needs to know.
But that means I might disrupt the peace and comfort—and pleasure—he finds in the darkness with me. So I don’t ask.
I’m pretty sure I know what it’s not. It’s not truly the end of the world if I never find out.
I turn away from the editing room and head for the stairs that take me out of the basement again. I didn’t really mean to follow him this far. He’s with Nolan. Nolan has a boyfriend. I know that Nolan isn’t going to touch him.
Coming around the corner, I nearly slam into demon twin. Kylen’s twin sister. Her eyes flash in warning as she crosses her arms over her chest, halting my progress down the hall. I recognize that stance. It’s a warning. A threat.
If anyone is undiagnosed unhinged, it’s Kole Whitaker.
“Why are you following my brother, Van Doren?” she asks.
“I was following Nolan,” I counter, shrugging. “Your brother was with him.”
She’s not buying it. She’s likely seen me following Kylen outside of this single moment.
Kole stares, holding my gaze as very few people do.
There’s no indication that she’s uncomfortable doing so.
It’s rare that I see that. Generally speaking, everyone is uncomfortable looking into the eyes of a killer.
Perhaps she’s a killer too. Hmm. I hadn’t considered that.
Kole waits for me to change my answer. I’m sure she’s used to intimidating people into changing their answers. I don’t. I’m not afraid of Kole. She may be unhinged, but I can guarantee that I’ve killed far more people than she has. I know how to make it look like an accident. Does she?
Not that I’m going to kill her. I’m not sure Kylen would forgive me. He’s strangely attached to Kole. Maybe not strangely. I’m attached to my twin. To my sisters. I’d go so far as to say I’m attached to my entire family. I’d protect them all and fuck anyone who thinks they can stand in my way.
“Leave him alone,” Kole warns.
I lean my shoulder against the wall and watch her steadily.
As far as girls go, she’s not so bad. I like her fierce protection of her brother.
I respect that. I like that she’s willing to get her hands dirty to protect someone she cares about—like the way she went after Kelsey in the aftermath of her instigating a gang bang while she was dating Nolan.
I was fairly certain she’d grown claws as she practically flew through the air toward her like a rabid animal.
Kole is… my kind of people.
But she doesn’t approve of my interest in Kylen. Which means she doesn’t want Kylen with someone like her. I think we’re probably far more alike than we are different.
“I’m not going to hurt him,” I offer.
I don’t miss the way her eyebrow lifts a fraction. As if my statement were a surprise. What was she expecting me to say?
“You like him,” she says, almost perplexed.
I don’t like that confusion. As if she doesn’t think he should be liked. Irritation prickles under my skin. “Why is that implausible?”
Kole shakes her head, her arms dropping to her sides. “Because you don’t like anyone, and it’s a little startling that you like Kylen of all people.”
My irritation rises. “Why? There’s nothing wrong with Kylen.”
I’m a surprised when she flashes me a big smile. It’s toothy. I think she has sharp teeth.
“Because he’s quiet, shy, and meek. You’re… not those things.”
“You’re commenting on our likenesses,” I muse. “I believe the saying goes, ‘opposites attract’.”
She snorts. “You make him uneasy, Arek. Stalking him isn’t going to change that.”
Okay, she’s probably not wrong. Then again, my parents got together because my dad Loren stalked my dad Oakley. “Sometimes that works out,” I offer. “I know from experience.”
“Oh yeah? How many stalkers have seduced you?”
I roll my eyes. “My fathers,” I say. “And now they’re happily married.” Happy being relative. I’m not sure my dad Loren expresses happiness in the conventional way.
Kole tilts her head. “Really?”
Her intrigue makes me smirk. “Yes. Breaking in and going through his things. Wearing his hair ties wrapped with his hair so he had his DNA. Following him to and from classes.” I stop because I nearly say, killing the men who hurt him.
That’s not something you offer in company outside the Van Dorens, though.
“While that’s… intriguing and I kind of want to know more, that’s not the kind of person Kylen is.”
I’m willing to bet that maybe she doesn’t know her brother as well as she thinks she does. “Okay,” I answer. “I’ll… be more mindful of his comfort.”
“Which is a way of saying you’re not going to stop stalking him.” Her hands are on her hips now.
“No,” I agree, shrugging. “But I’m not going to hurt him, and I’ll make sure I don’t scare him, either.”
Once again, we’re plunged into silence as she watches me. She still doesn’t necessarily like my answer, but I think she appreciates the truth.
My phone ringing has me taking my attention from her. Not my full attention. She’s a rabid animal after all. A demon. The nickname isn’t misleading in the least.
My cousin’s name flashes across my screen, and I meet Kole’s eyes again as I answer. Before I get a greeting out, he says, “You’re late, fucker.”
“Late for what?”
“Longwood U family get together,” Daxton says. “Where are you?”
“I didn’t agree to this,” I mutter as I walk by Kole. “I don’t need family bonding.”
“It’s cute when you pout,” Juno says from nearby.
“I’m flipping you off,” I tell him.
“It loses the effect when you have to tell me you’re doing it,” he answers.
“Hurry up,” Daxton says and ends the call.
“Be thankful you only have your brother on campus,” I tell Kole, who had fallen into step beside me. “Forced family bonding is my least favorite family obligation.”
She snorts. “That was Emric?”
No doubt she met Emric wearing very little at the door. I try not to shudder at the memory.
“No. I’m sure he’s already there, though, since it sounds like I’m late for a family gathering I didn’t agree to. Nor do I think I knew about it.”
Kole links her arm into mine and follows me down the hall. I tense at her touch, something she doesn’t miss as she glances up at me with a challenging raised eyebrow. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
I’m not exactly touch-averse like one of my dads. In fact, I think I get snuggly with my siblings and, to a somewhat lesser extent, my cousins, on a fairly regular basis. I like touch. But I like consensual touch, and she didn’t ask.
I press my lips together without shoving her off as I determine whether her touch bothers me on principle or whether I really don’t like it. “You should ask before touching someone,” I answer.
Kole inclines her head. “You’re right. I’m asking now. Is this okay?”
“Depends. Why are you touching me? No offense, but I’m not into girls. Femme guys are fine, but for me, it fucking matters that you’re a girl.”
She looks at my shirt and huffs in amusement. I know what shirt I’m wearing today. ‘Service human. Do not pet.’
“I like to walk like this. My legs are shorter than yours, and you easily outpace me, so keeping my arm in yours means you’re unconsciously forced to slow down, and I don’t have to walk at an uncomfortable pace to keep up.”
I look at her with a different consideration. “That’s why you do this to everyone?”
Kole grins. “Yes. I’m the shortest person in this house. My legs are not long. Which means everyone naturally outpaces me.”
Huh. “That’s a clever strategy.”
“It’s a quiet control,” she says, giving me a wicked grin. “No one has any idea that I’m controlling them when I do it.”
“You’re toxic.”
“Oh, totally. Toxic people recognize each other, though. Don’t they, Arek?”
Before I realize it, I’m opening my cousin’s door with Kole still on my arm. It isn’t until Daxton and Okello shift away from each other and silence fills the room that I realize what she’s done. I narrow my eyes at her, but she gives me a big smile. Innocent. But the glint in her eyes is fiendish.
“Little bitch,” I hiss, glaring at her.
“Guess maybe you should choose your targets more carefully,” she answers, and I feel the shift in atmosphere as my cousins tense. From the corner of my eye, I can see Juno reaching into his pocket. Slowly. Looking for his favorite pocketknife.
Kole turns her smile onto my cousins. It’s not disarming. It’s not innocent. It’s a little haughty, if anything. She studies my four cousins as they stare at her. Waiting.
“Arek said I could join you since you’re forcing him to bond,” Kole says.
Okello frowns. “We all know that’s a lie,” he answers. “Arek doesn’t invite anyone home.”
“He’s far too protective for that,” Emric says.
I’m thankful he’s fully clothed today.
Kole’s smile turns predatory. “Alright. He’s stalking my brother, and I don’t appreciate it.
So I’m openly going to stalk him.” She meets my eyes.
“You’re a crazy fucker, and while I believe you when you say you won’t hurt him, I don’t think for a second you’re a stable human being.
I have a feeling you understand what it means to be fiercely protective of your siblings. Don’t you, Van Doren?”
“I grudgingly don’t hate you for that,” I deadpan.