Chapter 19
nineteen
The bong hit doesn’t soothe me fast enough. Even with the suction seal tight to my lips, my eyes stay locked on the monitor—on her. Footage plays in a loop, and with every pass, the ache behind my ribs gets worse.
My Monarch.
Touching Elliot.
Laughing.
That goddamn giggle. That light, airy flutter she only gives when she’s safe. When she thinks no one’s watching. That sound burns more than the kiss. That first kiss.
The one she gave up like it was a fucking blessing.
A cloud of white smoke spills past my tongue, furling thick, angry clouds as it snakes toward the ceiling. I cough, but it doesn’t matter. I hit again. Green glass glints beside the monitor as I set it down, hands trembling.
She’s failing her test.
No, not yet. Give her time. She’ll choose right.
But another voice inside me laughs— What if she doesn’t?
What if I was wrong about her all along?
What if the last three years of watching her—of building the game, planting the cameras, threading my entire fucking life into hers—was all for nothing? What if she was never meant to be the one?
Except now…
Now that I’ve studied her every day, touched her, tasted what it means to be near her…I finally see where I went wrong.
She brought me back from the brink of nihilism, and she doesn’t even know it. Everything before her was black and white. Now, I see all the colors. I was ash, and she made me ember again. And now, I’m bleeding for her. Wanting her. Watching her smile for others while I rot behind the screen.
She doesn’t even know I’m an open wound.
And here’s the truth I never wanted to face: I’ve fallen so fucking hard for her, I don’t want to be healed.
Squeaks penetrate my ears from the door handle. I snap my head toward it.
Shit.
I scramble, yanking my mask over my face by instinct—wrong move. Now I can’t see a damn thing.
“Open the fucking door!”
Fuck. The pounding is so loud, it resounds through my chest.
It’s the enforcer.
I curse, trip over a box, and crash face-first onto the carpet. Scrambling, breath jagged, I grab my Ruger from my nightstand, slam a loaded mag into place, and rack the slide. The sound echoes through the room like a warning shot. Flipping over onto my back, I aim it at the doorknob.
If they’re busting in—I’m ready.
“Open the fucking door, Val! Come on!”
“Fuck you! I’m armed!”
“Valen. It’s me.” The voice is lower now. Familiar. Cautious. “Put down the bong. I can smell it from the hall.”
It sounds like Apollo…
But they can fake voices. You can’t be sure.
“Freshman year,” the voice tries again. “Bonakanos statue. Do I need to say more?”
“Yes!” I bark. “Prove it, asshole!”
A beat of silence. Then: “I don’t even remember his name. But his ass was already ready—” Speaking lower, I can hear him cringing through the wood. “Gimpma, Val. Gimpma.”
Oh… It is him.
I rip the door open, smoke curling out behind me like fury unleashed. Apollo’s there. Oz beside him, already smirking like he’s seen too much.
“Fuck, man. You good?” He pushes past like he owns the place.
“No,” I mutter.
Apollo glides his hand over mine, not gently, and disarms me with an exasperated sigh.
“Don’t say shit. I’ve seen you act worse,” I grumble.
With deft hands, he slides the magazine out and pockets it, then unloads the chamber before handing the gun back. “Yeah, but you always did this for me. Here.”
Oz bounces over to the bong and packs it again for himself, squatting on my desk chair to take a hit. Coughing dramatically, he leans forward and slurps up a long strand of spit. “I forgot you like your shit hallucinogenic.”
I lock the door and pull off my mask, finally able to see.
“Fuck, Valen!” My stomach sinks as Apollo spies what’s on my screen. “That’s Olivia Cardell…” Both he and Oz stare at me like I’ve got a weapon pointed at their heads.
Oops. I lower the gun and toss it onto the bed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah? Like that’s a question…” Apollo scans the images carefully, then swings his attention back to me as he steps closer. “Do you know what you’re doing?”
“Yes.” My voice is smooth and flat. I know exactly what I’m doing. What Olivia is going to do…that’s what I don’t know.
Oz stares at the image with bloodshot eyes, dumbfounded, then looks my way with a tilted head. “I’m really stoned. Are you stoned? You must be…”
My hands rub through my hair repeatedly, tugging on the ends. “Ugh. Can I get some fucking privacy?”
Oz slips past me like a ghost, but Apollo studies me carefully.
“Is she part of a game I don’t know about?”
The muscles in the back of my jaw ache from clenching. I shouldn’t be this fucking tense after smoking up. “Yes.”
“Let me in. I want to know.”
“No.” I know I sound harsh, especially when my one real friend stiffens at my tone. “I mean, I don’t want you to get involved because you can claim ignorance now. You don’t need to go down for any of this.”
He nods skeptically. “Okay. But the plan is to back us? Delta?”
“It’s for everyone.”
His neck tightens as he swallows, holding back some words he probably wants to scold me with. Only, he can’t. So instead, he grabs the bong and the rest of my Glass Eye sativa strain, then stalks toward the door like it might save me from what’s clawing through my brain.
I slump on the edge of the bed as I give a warning. “Give me my bullets.”
“Tomorrow,” he calls out over his shoulder before shutting the door behind him as a final answer.
Flinging an arm over my forehead, I try to block out some of the dancing lights scattering across the room, creating ominous shadows. It’s making me nauseous. Plus, there’s a random one that I can’t catch even when I raise my hands to try to. It mixes with a tiny ping sound every so often.
And a whisper comes through the wind calling me. Or just saying hey.
Wait a fucking minute…
I think that’s literally someone calling me.
My heart has a mini-attack as I stand up and head to the window, pulling back the curtain and being careful to avoid the light from hitting my face.
Holy shit. There’s a hooded guy down there looking right at me.
He bends to pick up a pebble from the garden and launches it at the glass, the sound echoing through the room. Hurriedly, I snag my mask and toss it back over my head, then open the window.
“I need to know,” the man says, his voice clear on a chilly night. It’s too dark to make him out.
“Know what?”
As if he doesn’t want to say more, he kicks at the dirt. Then, when he raises his face, I recognize him. He lifts his hoodie enough on his arm to showcase the number there. An upside-down seven.
I don’t remember if I closed the window or not, but somehow, I float downstairs and appear out the back. Like I just teleported or something. But the trip takes forever.
My heart’s pounding, making me lose my breath as I come face to face with the man I let go. Malik.
His eyes are wide with fear. But I feel the same about him.
Instead of a warm greeting, I point toward the back hedges, and we step outside of them to the forest behind fraternity row. Clouds cover the moon enough to make us both invisible. And my mask is making it almost impossible to see.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I grit out through my teeth, sweat pouring down my back.
“You know what happened. You asked me—” His fear turns to rage as his voice quivers. “You know who did this.”
“Who did what?”
He pauses for so long, I almost turn and walk away, for fear the world has been frozen and I’m the only one left alive. Then, he takes a deep breath, and when he blows it out, the crystal clouds swirl around my face, making me dizzy.
“I want the man who took Naomi to burn for it.” His eyes meet mine, full of something too raw to name. “And I think you’re the only one who can set the fire.”
“How did you find me?”
“You marked me. What else did I have to spend my time doing, Valen?”
Shit. He’s smart. Probably used some old Theta resources and followed me here.
I must take too long to respond because his branded arm reaches out to grab mine as he pleads, “Please.”
“It’s all under control.” I think…
He relaxes until his face drops, a soft sob escaping his lips.
The leaves crunch beneath my boot as I take a step back toward the house. “But you can never show your face again.” Then, I disappear into the night.
Like I always do.
It’s late enough that all the lights are off at Omega house, a perfect cover for disguise. Tucked into my backpack are all the tools I require tonight. The trusty lattice is easily scalable up to Olivia’s balcony. I was worried she’d shut me out…
But her door stands slightly ajar. Just enough for a shadow like me to slip through…
And I’m inside.
Where my beauty is deep asleep. Her breasts bob with every breath, and the scent in the room, like orchids and amber…it makes me hard.
Without making a sound, I set my bag down and slip out a syringe. Hurriedly, I plunge it into her neck and push the medicine in. She never moves, never skips an inhale. Though, I monitor the beats of her heart with two fingers on her delicate wrist.
As soon as she’s pliable, I flip her onto her back, then I tug the sheets off her body. Followed by her panties. I shove her T-shirt up to expose her tits as she flops onto her pillows.
She gives Elliot her daylight giggles, but I get her midnight moans.
He sees the girl they expect, and I see the one she’s terrified to be.
He walks with her in sunlight, hand in hand.
I wait in the shadows, where she always returns.
He listens to her little laughs.
But I get to hear her beg…
By the time I expose her and the red light flashes, I’m ready to go. I dig out the plastic object from my bag and hold it in my hand, even giving it a shake with a smile for her to see later…at a time of my choosing.
Nipples pebble in the cool air, and her skin erupts with goosebumps.
Still, I pull myself out and stroke. First, I’m casual about it as I watch her.
Then, as she moves slightly, I pick up the pace.
Every slide down toward the base I imagine bottoming out in her wet cunt.
What her whimpers will be like when I do.
How she’ll squirm beneath me as I shove in even more.
When I reach the reddened crown, I roll my thumb over the top and spread the drop of liquid down my shaft, imagining it’s her pussy soaking my dick.
Gods, I can’t wait to be inside her…
By the time I’m pretending that her eyes flash open and spot me hovering in her room, jerking off over her body, I’m almost ready to explode. So I climb onto the bed, settling my thighs beneath hers. Then, I lean over her curvy body and inhale her breath. Sweet, and intoxicating.
As I line up with her pussy, stroking through her lips repeatedly, she releases a tiny moan. The more I do it, the wetter she gets without even knowing what’s happening. Perhaps she’s dreaming of me. Will she call out my name?
Her full breasts melt against my chest until I can’t hold back anymore.
Every time I almost hit her entrance, it sends me spiraling toward climax.
I even delve in slightly at one point, only to pull back.
As soon as my balls tingle with the need for release, I sit up, hold out the dildo, and erupt all over its length while holding in my grunt.
Using my glove, I stroke the toy until it’s saturated with my cum, then tease her pussy with it, just as I did my dick. Her hips buck, as if she senses it.
Without waiting much longer, I plunge it deep inside her.
Her mouth drops with a gasp, but otherwise, she doesn’t move.
Eyeing the camera, I thrust the toy slowly in and out of her, using my thumb to rub slow circles on her clit as I do.
It’s no longer than a few moments before she’s bucking, back arching, tits jiggling…
Her fingers grip the sheets as she chokes on a whimper and comes hard, her body taut as pleasure surges through her.
Then, I slip the dildo out, lift my mask, and suck it dry, swallowing all her flavor mixed with mine.
We taste good together.