Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Sugar Skull
Well, shit.
My body is as frozen as Zee’s, my cock still buried deep inside her slick warmth.
She looks back at me with wide eyes, my heart pounding for more reasons than being inside the perfect woman.
I find my words. “Close the door, Konstantin.”
Here’s the thing about addicts. We take risks. Ones that are bad for us, ones that are also bad for the people we care about.
It’s not that I didn’t see the risk. I saw it and decided Zee was worth it. And now, I have some cleaning up to do.
“What the fuck is going on?” Kon sounds as confused as I am about how we got into this situation.
I pull out, and Zee scrambles to fix her clothes.
A hollow cold washes over me as she moves away. It’s taking everything in me not to finish what we started while Kon stands there and watches.
“Close the door,” I repeat, turning to him as I shove myself back in my pants.
I’m still hard as fuck, and I know this only pushes the knife further into Kon's heart, but he does what I ask him. His face reddens, his muscles tightening in the shirt that’s much too small for him.
Zee runs for the door, but Kon doesn’t move, blocking her exit.
She stands between us, looking back at me as I lean against the desk.
“Zee?” Kon takes a step forward, glancing at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, Kon,” she says, her shoulders dropping. “Atlas and I are fucking. Sorry you had to find out this way.”
Fucking?
My body tenses at her word.
That wasn’t fucking. That was something else.
It was on another level.
I finally believe in spirituality, and Zee calls it fucking?
“Atlas,” Kon says, my eyes falling to the vein popping in his neck. “Does Zee know?”
Zee looks back at me, giving me those eyes. Narrow, analyzing my face as if she’s trying to figure out if I’m the monster she saw that first night.
Before she can ask the inevitable question, I answer, “No.”
"Liar.”
“I don’t lie." Kon knows my code, but he's in disbelief.
He shouldn’t have found us like this. This makes me sloppy. Chaotic. And if anyone’s disappointed here, it’s me. But I’d also be lying if I said I didn’t like the way he’s looking at me right now. His mouth twisted, his lips curled with disgust.
His brows lift and lower, like he’s trying to figure out what my move here is. He won’t believe it’s that simple. Nor will I admit it.
His glare sharpens. It’s the look a man gives when he knows he’s lost.
A smirk tickles the side of my lip.
“Can I go?” Zee asks.
His eyes move to Zee, my jaw tightening.
Then he reaches for her wrist.
“No, you can’t,” he says, swinging the door open. "Zee, you're coming with me."
“Absolutely not! Fuck off!"
Zee pulls away, but he pulls her harder. He glances back at me as he tries to steady her, but that fight I know is in her comes out. She kicks him, pulling hard on his grip.
“Get the fuck off me!”
Kon tugs harder. “I’m taking her to Father.”
His words should threaten me. They don’t.
He won’t get very far.
He’s a brute. Stealth and quickness aren’t his strong points. They’re mine. We’re both fit guys, but he uses those muscles differently. I’ve seen him pound into guys without thought. The way he wails those fists makes him reckless and unpredictable.
It also makes him formulaic as fuck.
It only takes me a few wide steps to get to Kon. When I finally take a swing, I know what I’m in for.
My knuckle slams into his left cheek, hard enough that the sting from my fist travels up my arm.
He’s rocked, stumbling as he blinks, but he’s not that rocked. Not when he’s this angry.
He loosens his grip on Zee before he pushes her out of the way.
A shriek leaves her as her back hits the shelf across the room. She slumps over, groaning in pain, before my eyes snap to Kon.
“Bad choice, Kon.”
Kon takes one step before my back slams against the desk. His hand wraps around my sweater as he pounds into me. Again. And again. And again.
Pain dances across my face. I accept his punishment, burning through my skin.
“Kon!” Zee calls. “Stop!"
Ever go to a symphony? Ever notice how conductors move? Some are wild and theatrical. Others are more tamed, controlled and deliberate. No one way is right. Whatever the case, we’re about to hit a crescendo.
Kon’s too pissed to feel me inching back, reaching my arm behind me.
“Kon!” Zee yells, her voice closer as if she’s trying to stop him from killing me, but it’s kinda comical. So much that I laugh as I let him get one last pound in.
Then I brace myself.
Zee’s not going to like this.
My hand pats at the papers on the desk before my fingers land on cold metal.
“Kon!”
My grip tightens around the handle, a wide smile spreading on my face.
With one swing, I push the sharp end into Kon’s neck.
Kon stills, his eyes narrowing.
My body slams back against the desk as Kon reaches for his neck.
His eyes widen when he figures it out.
“I always told you to be more precise.”
Precision allowed me to stab Kon where it matters. No punching. No beating. No bruteness. Just patience and a knowledge of anatomy.
“You fuck,” Kon growls, blood pouring from his neck.
He swings at me. I lean back, watching as his body waves like a high-rise in the wind. His face pales, glancing at the blood on his hand like he’s in disbelief.
"Y-you fucking traitor.” He reaches for me again, his hand grazing my chest.
Then he collapses to the floor.
Silence fills the room as a pool of blood forms beneath him.
My eyes move to Zee, her face covered in small dots of red as she stares at Kon’s lifeless body.
She shakes, her mouth stammering like she's trying to speak.
Stepping over his body, I drop the letter opener to the ground and move to the door to lock it. Then I move to Zee, my hands on her shoulders, as I turn her to me, scanning her body.
There’s a scratch on her chest, just above her breasts. It’s not that deep, but it makes me want to kill Kon. Again.
“At-Atlas..."
“You’re cut." Taking her hand, I pull her to the desk, maneuvering her around Kon's body.
“Wh-what the fuck…”
“Don’t act like you haven’t seen a body before.” Reaching into my bottom drawer, I pull out a cotton swab and alcohol from the kit.
“That’s it? You’re gonna dodge around committing murder right in front of me, too? Are you ever going to answer anything, own up to anything, or—Ow! Fuck.”
I dab the cotton-soaked swab on her cut, cleaning up the blood around her small, red scar.
“He was going to hurt you." But even that’s saying too much. I need to report this to Father before he finds out from someone else, and I’m not even sure how I’ll spin this.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
She wasn’t supposed to happen.
It’s fucking everything up, including me.
“Was it him?” she asks. “Did he kill my father? Alaina?” Her wild eyes find me, begging me to tell her something that makes this all better.
“I don’t know,” I place a small bandage over her cut before my lips land on her soft skin. Soothing. Grounding. Warm. “I just had to protect you.”
“Atlas, this is fucked up.” Her hands shake with her words. “Wh-what the fuck is going on? What do you know? First Liv, then Reggie. Alaina and now Kon?" Her hand comes to her mouth, like she's replaying it all again.
“I mean it when I said I won’t let anything happen to you.” Sitting back in my chair behind my desk, I pull her onto my lap.
Tilting her face to mine, I meet those angelic brown eyes again.
“You’re mine to protect.” Call me fucked up, but despite Kon being dead in the middle of the room, her ass on my lap sparks my body alive again. It pushes away the stings still on my skin. It shifts the rolling in my stomach. “That I can promise you, Zee.”
Stings dissipate when my lips land on hers, the room fading away.
She’s the best pain reliever I've ever felt. I can't stop my hands from travelling up her thighs. Soft. Balmy.
Mine.
“Atlas, he’s right—I—” She softens in my hold, my fingers finding her centre.
She’s as wet as I left her.
This is how I know that Zee is fucking made for me. The girls here know the darkness that muddies our system, but they can't handle it. Zee lets my fingers climb higher and higher while there’s a dead body feet away.
“They’ll deal with him. Right now, I’m dealing with you.”
Fire crackles in the nearby fireplace, casting a shadow on Father’s long, angled face.
“I did what was best for us.”
That’s the truth I tell him in the Eastmount Manor dining hall.
A long wooden table sits between us, the smell of grilled beef and fresh herbs in the air.
I hope Father doesn’t smell something else.
A traitor.
Cherry sits on his lap. Or Cherise, if you’re Father. He hates the nickname she grew up with, and he makes the calls for his prized possession.
She’s the poster-woman for Eastmount. Long, shiny, dark hair, doe eyes, and full red lips. She’s attractive, but even with those implanted tits, she doesn’t come close to Zee. They’re out of proportion with her slim body, the one she sacrifices over and over again to make fucks like Father happy.
Their faces say it all. He’s content, swirling his glass of wine, gold ringed fingers wrapped around the stem. She looks vacant. Dead. The opposite of what Eastmount promises.
Can the women of Eastmount experience marital bliss?
Yes, but it's rare, and I’m not letting Zee take those chances.
I won't risk becoming like this asshole, and I’m not risking this life for Zee.
She’s too human. Too perfect. Perfect hips.
Perfect fucking thighs. A perfect ass that fills my hands twice over and those plump, juicy—
“Brother Ambrose?”
Father says my name, his glass by his lips.
“Yes, Father.” I straighten up in my seat, the steak in front of me untouched.
“I asked you a question.”
I didn’t hear it. Zee continues to be a huge fucking distraction.
I clear my throat. “Sorry, I’m still a little shaken up.”
“I understand,” he says. “It had to be done, yes? You said he was in love? With Azalea?”
She hates that name, but I don't correct him. That'll make things worse.
“Brother Velochok said she was beautiful and wanted to court her.” My muscles tighten as I reach for my phone and send Father the photos I took from Kon's little date. These were right before I devoured her in the bathroom. “He had taken her on dates that he hadn’t spoken with you about, from my understanding.”
Kon didn’t speak with Father, but he spoke with me. He drank a lot of the Kool-Aid this place serves up, but for once, he didn’t agree with Father’s orders. Instead, he wanted to change Zee into someone else.
He wanted to make her fit in.
“She’s smoking! We can’t just follow orders, dude, look at her. It’s refreshing to have her around. I’m going to take her on a date and show her what it can be like here. Father will change his mind."
But that would have kept her here.
And that. Can’t. Happen.
Father reaches for his phone, tsking as he swipes a finger at his screen. “Such a shame to lose him. We’ve lost many this season.”
“This is true,” I nod, keeping composure. “Father, what happened with those students?” While we’re on the topic of loss, I have one question that’s been plaguing my mind. “Liv and Alaina? Reggie?”
“They had to cross over.” His answer is quick, as if he’s justified their murder. “They ran their course. I sent flowers to their parents.”
As usual, he says a whole lot of words that mean nothing. It runs in the “Family.”
He places the phone on the table before plunging his knife into his steak. Cherry pokes at the salad in front of her.
I release a silent breath, dodging a giant cannon. Father hasn't gone ballistic. He hasn't banished me.
“What do you think about her?” My brows knit before he looks up, catching my gaze. “This girl. Azalea. What do you think?”
That she’s heaven. That I’m going to spend every day inside of her. That I’m going to give her the fucking world and fuck her on top of it.
“She’s only a target.”
“Yes, but you’ve watched her. You’ve shadowed her. You’ve made sure to know her.” He slams his knife on the table, making his wife jump, before he leans back in his seat, wiping his mouth. “So? What do you think?”
“You’re right. She doesn’t belong here.”
A sly smile comes across Father’s face. “You don’t think she’s as beautiful as our Brother said?
” He turns to Cherry. “Have you seen her, Cherise?” He picks up his phone, laughing as he shows her the photos I sent.
Cherry doesn’t look amused. She still looks like she downed a bottle of muscle relaxers.
“Doesn’t she have a face you want to fuck?
Those lips. Thick and juicy.” My body tenses, my hands coming to the arms of the velvet-backed chair.
“These would make any man want to fuck the life out of her. Nonstop until her eyes bulge and tears stream down that pretty face.”
My grip on the chair tightens, my palms sweaty against the wood. I do my best to settle my body with another slow exhale.
“But that figure…” Father frowns. "It’s too much. She won’t fit into Valentino like you do, darling.”
His eyes snap up at me.
“Do you want to fuck her, Brother Ambrose?”
Heat fills my chest, my cock twitching beneath the table. “No.”
I want to make love to her over and over again. I want to worship that body from the outside and in. I want to make sure she never forgets what it’s like to have me by her side and inside her.
Father lets out a huff of a laugh, like Zee is just some girl. Business.
Then his laughter ends. Like a train coming to an emergency stop.
“Perhaps you feel what our fallen Brother felt. You haven’t completed the task. I can only assume.”
Shiiiit.
“She’s…” I search for words, but all I see is her. Bent over my desk. In her bath. In her bed. “Complicated.”
“Yes. Or she’s what we need. In honour of our fallen Brother, I stand by him. This conversation has shown that.” He takes another sip of wine before he speaks again. “She will join us.”
The fuck she will.
“Father, I—”
He holds up a hand, cutting me off.
“It will be a delight for others to see what a transformation she will have as one of us. From a lost soul with a broken bloodline, returning home to her family to become one with us. It’s been a terrible season. It would be a shame to worsen spirits any further.”
“You said you wanted her gone. Dead.” I confirm, my eyes wandering over to Cherry. My stomach flips when I imagine Zee becoming that.
“Your classes are suspended until further notice," he says. "Your only task is to bring her home, to me.”