Chapter Twenty-Five #2
I could kill him out here, so far away from the house and so secluded…
it would be so easy to strangle him and pull him into the thicket behind me…
but, alas, Sabrina could say I was here and I would have no alibi.
So instead, I tilt my head and peer at Charlie.
We’re the exact same height. The exact same build as we’re both in swim.
But I’m the one who made captain. He may be good, but I’m better.
More agile. Faster. Smarter. I’m simply better.
It’s not arrogance, it’s fact. “I was just wishing her a happy holiday. Can’t wait to see her in our halls this year. It’ll be so… fun, won’t it?”
He shakes his head at me. “You’ll stay away from her there, too. Come around her, and I’ll bash your fucking teeth in. You’ll need headgear from what I’ll do to you.”
“So vicious,” I grin. “Nevertheless, fine. I’ll stay away from her… unless she comes to me, Charlie. You won’t always be around her.”
I can see the violence in his eyes. The way he wants to murder me just as much as I want to slaughter him. And I will. Charlie’s only an obstacle. Only second-best. He won’t win. Never against me. He never has. He never will. I close the little gate and pause. “Oh, and Charlie?”
He cocks his head to the side, waiting for me to continue.
“You should probably break up with Miranda--” I grab my phone out of my front trouser pocket and flash him the picture on my lockscreen of his girlfriend in my bed, naked, and fast asleep.
Well, she looks asleep. She’s actually quite dead.
I contemplate telling him, but I already have a mess to clean up at home.
His face turns a beautiful shade of furious pink.
“Her pussy just wasn’t very good quality, you know?
I will give it to her mate, she did her best to resist me…
but once my tongue was up her frothy cunt, she just…
didn’t.” I lift a shoulder and let it drop casually.
“Anyway,” I slip my phone back into my pocket.
“Just thought you should know now that the semester is over and you’re leaving.
It would be a nice little clean break.” I continue on my journey home to call my grandfather.
The sooner that mess is cleaned up, the better.
Age Sixteen
Blood spurts and lands in the crevices between my fingers, on my knuckles, and I’m sure the red I’m seeing is because some landed in my eyes.
Mason is on the ground, rasping wet, gurgling, nasty breaths as I’m tugged off him.
Successfully, this time. The noise around me comes back with a force, like a steady ring, beating at my eardrums as I breathe in deeply, trying to calm down.
“Christ, take him to the infirmary!” Someone shouts.
But I want him dead.
“Kane!”
This time it's Sabrina's voice that pulls me. I glance up to see she’s standing by the open doorway as the group of swim mates carry Mason out of the locker room like pallbearers. Those gorgeous sea-green eyes of hers are wide and she stands there petrified. The door slams in her face.
I blink and I'm alone with Charlie again. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He screams.
"Me? What's wrong with you? Did you not hear the way he was talking about your sister?
Where were you? Milling about, taking your time to get dressed.
Meanwhile he's talking about the way your sister’s tongue moves in his mouth.
" I flick my tongue at him like a snake.
"You spend all your time keeping her away from me when I'm the one who would protect her completely. "
"I keep her away from you because I see what you are, Kane. I. see. you. I see the monster inside you try to hide. The vacancy behind your eyes. You're a fucking void."
I glower at him.
"My sister will never love you."
"She will be mine, Charles. There are things you're too stupid to see. But you'll find out soon enough."
He squints at me like I'm absurd, but he simply hasn't been told yet why his father has been taking him on hunting trips. He hasn't been told why his father has upped his regimen.
Not like my grandfather has told me.
"She will never want you, Kane."
I laugh and spit at his feet, leaning against the lockers, the split skin on my fingers still bleeding, still leaking, still numb. They'll ache later. But for now, all I feel is the internal rot his words are causing. "Is that so?"
"I'll do everything in my power to make sure she is never yours. You're not good enough for her. You will never be good enough for her."
Unbeknownst to him, he verbally scheduled his own execution with his executioner. I nod a few times in his general direction and another chuckle leaves me. "That's the thing, Charles. I always get what I want."
Six Months Later
“So, getting away with it will establish me as a member without having to do the hunt? I mean, I'll still gladly do the hunt, I’m just wondering.”
Grandfather stares at me from across his desk, over the rim of his glass tumbler as he takes a sip of whatever was in his decanter. He inhales deeply, blue eyes weary. “But why the boy if David and I have already negotiated for her?”
“Because.” I whine a bit childishly. “Because he’ll get in the way and ruin it. If I don't kill him now, I'll just end up doing it later.” I breathe out. “If she finds out it was me, it could put a damper on things. I want her to love me. Completely.”
“And your children.”
I scrunch up my nose in disgust. I really don’t want children.
I don’t want Sabrina’s perfect, thin and petite, perfect body to be ruined.
Or her snatch. I’ve heard things about cunts after they’ve been torn through during childbirth.
I can’t imagine having a wife with a loose cunt.
Not to mention the noise babies make. Squealing and squawking and defecating.
Ghastly. “Well, that’s fine. As long as it’s just the one.
I want her with me always. I do not want a child to get in the way of her love for me or pleasing me. ”
Grandfather quirks a thick white brow. “One… if your firstborn is a male.”
Well, thank God or whatever is out there they have all that genetic coding and whatnot.
We could make the child in a lab so it doesn’t ruin Sabrina’s body.
I don’t tell grandfather that. “Of course,” I reply, then bring the subject at hand back to the forefront as I stand and head to the window of his office here at the Ainsworth estate in Wales.
The yard is very green. “It’s settled then, I’ll become the youngest Syndicate member and marry her when I turn twenty-one.
I can wait five more years. But first, I’ll drown Charles Koen Winters.
Which brings me to my next question, can I borrow the yacht? ”
Sabrina slips away from me faster than I can manage; moving to New York full-time to be with her father.
She only visits during Christmas or the summer holiday.
In the meantime, I find out he isn’t her father at all, and David is my grandfather's bastard. My uncle. Which made Charlie my cousin. It’s all a bit incestuous.
It makes me want her even more.
But she’s unattainable.
So I wait.
Age Twenty-Two
I study up on the band Sabrina sent a group text about, text everyone separately and tell them not to go.
That I'm going to make my move, finally. After all, they all know how much I adore her. No matter how many times I’d caught her with someone else's face between her thighs at house parties over the years.
I knew it was only a matter of time before it was my face between her thighs.
As soon as I heard Sabrina was back in Kensington, and leaving again at the end of summer to begin working for David after passing the bar, I divulged a plan.
One: replace her birth control tablet with placebos. That was not easy, to be frank. Her big, American bodyguard is always around.
Two: hire the band she loved very much for a ridiculous amount of money to get back together for just one night.
Three: make sure no one else in her little English friend group goes to the concert.
Four: make her see we belong together. Or, get her pregnant and when she remembers the wild night we had together, she’ll realize it’s mine and she'll be my wife. If the child is a boy, I’ll get snipped immediately.
If not, it can have a little accident and then Sabrina will just be mine again.
And then we’ll do the genetic lab baby thing.
I almost hit the floor with the goth-garb she has on.
Her hair is ice-blonde, and her makeup just a tad bit heavier.
But she is still beautiful. Her rail-thin frame makes her look so much shorter than she is.
I’ll have to use less GHB than I brought, she’s so skinny.
After all, I want her to be pliable and remember tonight. Not deadweight.
She trusts the first drink I give her. Then the second.
On the third I put three little drops. When I see her swaying and doing her best to hold herself up but failing, I catch her.
She’s responsive. That’s what matters. I pull her to me, then bend to pick her up bridal-style.
I carry her out and into my car, buckling her in the passenger seat.
Then, I drive us out to a dark playground where there’s a pond nearby.
I remove her seatbelt. “Sabrina, can you hear me?”
“Parkerhm?”
My brows furrow. “Kane, darling, remember?”
Her eyes cross as I lean in, kissing her supple lips. She moans, lips parting, hands going around my neck and pulling me down. “Mmmph… Parker…?” she pulls away but I kiss her again. And again. She clings to me.
She pulls away again, confusion in her gaze and she pushes at me.
“No!” I kiss her lips, kissing her harder.
“Don’t!” she grunts between kisses. “Stop!” she repeats herself, as I pull her top down, feast on her small breasts and spread her thighs open, skirt riding up.
“No… Don’t… stop.” she moans out weakly as her eyes flutter closed and her hands fall limp.
“Shhh Sabrina… I got you…” I reply, kissing lower.
I ravage her pussy until her liquid seeps out of her, so wet.
I suppose the medical journals were right and female ejaculation is partially piss.
I knew she wanted this. Wanted me. I drink every drop.
Lapping her up. She’s facing away from me when I unfasten my trousers.
She cries out and pushes against me.
“Stop it Sabrina, you wanted this, remember, princess? You said, ‘No, don’t stop.’ Well, I’m giving you exactly what you want.”
“Parker?”
“No, Kane darling.” The car moves with each of my thrusts. She begins to cry, and her hands fly up to my face. It soothes something in me. I come violently.
Eight Months Ago
“You drugged me.”
“Not enough that you didn't want it.”
"No wonder you had to drug me to rape me. I didn't want you sober, and I didn't even want you drugged...”
Her words echo amidst the music from above, the chattering, the body swirling around us. Rape her? I didn't rape her. I made love to her. I was gentle. I licked up every drop. Why can’t she see I even took care of her? I don’t understand.
Charlie’s voice whirls around me in a mocking tone, louder than the music. “She will never want you. She will never love you….”
Yes she will. I just have to make her see that.
Present Day
I’ve been standing here, at the window of the library since my grandfather asked; “What’s the point in having a sword if you don’t get it bloody?” staring down at the snow-blanketed front lawn of my familial home. Reminiscing.
“She is a farce!”
“I never wanted you!”
“She will never want you… She will never love you…”
“Open your eyes, Kanedrew!”
“You will never be good enough for her.”
The gates open for a little familiar red Maserati as more snowflakes fall from the gravestone sky.
The driver takes their time coming down the drive, revving from first gear to second, back down to first as it slows even further to park.
The door opens and a very familiar, conventionally attractive American steps out of the vehicle, rounds the front of the car, and opens the passenger side to let out a very blonde, meticulously clean Matilda Barclay.
As the doorbell rings, another set of wise words from my earlier conversation with my grandfather narrows into a plan of action. “Take her to see him, Kanedrew. But watch the way she reacts. She isn’t here for you. She's here to save the beast from you.”
Well… I just can’t let that be.
If she’s here for him… then they can die together. At least I’ll finally be free of this maddening obsession.