Chapter Eight
Idig my fingers into Laiken’s elbow, my gaze meeting Harlen’s, jerking my head toward the front door.
He pinches Jade’s arm, and when Jade flicks her blue eyes to his, then to mine, I tilt my head again, working through the rage locked at my jaw.
We needed to get out of here.
Laiken follows closely behind me into the entryway, and I pause when I feel a small set of fingers coil my wrist. Catching the door I just ripped open at my back, I spin and watch Laiken cast her gaze from one wall to the other, landing on Harlen when he and Jade step into the space.
Her eyes stay there a moment before circling back to touch mine.
I force myself not to shiver when I see how dull they’d become.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice empty.
“We are leaving,” I state a little too bluntly, and with a little too much emphasis on the we.
I don’t wait for her to reply before turning and stepping through the open door.
But her next words hold me in place. They tighten around the column of my neck, reeling me back.
“I’m staying, Chase.”
I shake my head, chew through my annoyance at the inside of my cheek, sucking my next breath through my teeth.
“Laik, get your ass in the truck, you don’t need to be around this—”
“Can you not do that,” she states coolly.
What the fuck was she talking about?
My nails bury into the flesh of my palms. I’m a millisecond away from hauling her ass over my shoulder and dragging her out.
“Do what?” I ask, and when she doesn’t reply, I turn to my sister for clarity, and the look in her eyes tells me to listen to her best friend, to really hear what she has to say. I don’t speak again until my mouth is near Laiken’s ear and my voice is a whisper, “Do what?”
She steps away.
“Treat me like I’m fragile, like I can’t handle this shit. I fucking hate that you do that, Chase.”
I scoff, turning, running my hands through my hair, aggressively sinking the pads of my fingers into my scalp. My jaw clenches, teeth grinding, tendons popping. Is that what she really thinks I think of her?
I choose not to push on that just yet.
I throw my arms out. “He can’t just say shit like that, and you stay around to accept it—”
Laiken raises her voice and this time it shocks me.
“Yes, he can, Chase.” She starts to laugh, but the sound spilling from her is so sad and broken that it only spikes further rage through me.
“Not if he doesn’t have any teeth,” I mumble, and Harlen snorts a laugh, pulling himself onto the metal entry table.
Laiken’s face remains hard, and when she levels her gaze to mine, I can see her eyes are swimming in tears.
Silence presses between us until she speaks again.
“Thank you for having my back, Chase, you know what that means to me. But don’t make me look weak by running away.” A tear rolls down her cheek and her next breath trembles when she whispers, “My father did that, and look where hiding got him.”
Before I can reply, before I can do anything, she turns with my sister's hand in hers and walks away.
I reach forward when I watch Harlen’s hand fall to his side.
The red liquid inside his plastic Solo cup sloshes over the ledge, landing in a crimson puddle beside his black Chucks. A little preoccupied, his free hand is up the skirt of some girl I didn’t know, their tongues down each other's throats.
I snatch the drink, fall back into my seat and recline my head. I’m staring at the ceiling, downing the rest. Colors from the light machine bounce from every corner.
Blue, red, yellow and green, in a sequence.
It had been an hour since I watched Laiken and my sister walk back into the party.
I had seen them in the kitchen earlier, and again, stumbling out of one of the many bathrooms upstairs.
I’d been intent on keeping my distance, even if it was for a short while.
I didn’t want to piss Laiken off any more than I had.
She had been right, leaving would have looked like she was bitching out. I just didn’t take her for someone who cared about what other people thought.
Perhaps I didn’t know the girl I considered a sister as well as I thought I did.
I blink, press my fingers to my temples. Her words from earlier loop and swirl and tighten, like a guillotine on my neck, the word fragile on repeat.
Laiken Campbell was so far from fragile. She was resilient and brave and a pain in the ass, and I wanted to tell her that—I almost wish I had.
My pulse quickens in my neck, the thunder of what she thinks I think of her erupts in my ears.
I cared more about what she thought I thought of her than I cared about a lot of things.
Pushing to my feet, I move toward Harlen and tap his pocket.
He slides his hand out from beneath the skirt he had it buried under, reaching in and pulling out a blunt.
I take it, then slip out, and when I’m outside, I suck back a lungful of fresh air, trailing a flattened path through the dark wooded forest.
My Vans crunch twigs and leaves as I move deeper into the night, and when I find a tree with peeling bark, a thick trunk, I rest against it, pushing the blunt between my teeth, tasting pussy.
With a shake of my head and a laugh that slips beneath my breath, I set the end alight.
It’s quiet out here. The only noise coming from the thud of music crawling out of the solid brick walls, along with leaves that rustle closely and a crow that seems to squawk ominously. I slap at an insect that bites me on the side of my neck, listening to something scurry in a tree overhead.
I drop my chin and hit the blunt again when I hear movement, unmistakably made by a person. It’s light, barely there. It draws closer and I see the glistening bunny mask first, then her long black hair. It catches in the soft glow of the outdoor lights.
Aria corners the tree and rests against it, her bare shoulder touching mine. She nudges my arm and holds her palm out, curling her fingers back toward her, a request for the blunt.
I hit it again, then pass it over. And I’m not sure why—I don’t like her, don’t want to be around her, sure don’t want to be sharing a blunt with her.
I keep my eyes on the pitch-dark woods ahead.
She takes a pull, then hands it back, along with a Solo cup filled to the brim with the same red liquid I’d chugged down earlier. And when I feel how dry my tongue has become, I accept it, swallowing a mouthful.
“What do you want?” I rasp, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand before downing the rest.
She laughs. “Maybe a thank you?”
I throw the cup away. “What the fuck for?”
“The drink, perhaps?”
Turning my head, my eyes land on her hazel ones poised in the small holes of her elaborate mask. There’s a challenge in them, and I hate that more than ever, because I love a good challenge, just not the kind that involves her.
I can’t stop myself; I laugh beneath my breath. “Fuck you, Aria.”
“You already did,” she whispers, her head tilted back, her full lips popping open, tongue tracing her stark white teeth.
When I don’t reply, she rolls the back of her skull against the tree until her eyes land on me. She pushes off it, her body pressing in front of me, her hands finding the belt at my jeans. Her mouth is so close to mine, strawberry tangling at the tip of my tongue.
“Please, Chase, just one more time,” she begs, unbuckling my belt.
My dick responds quickly, but my head doesn’t want any part of it.
I grab her hips and instead of pulling her into me, I push her aside and step away. I’m laughing and I’m forced to blink a couple of times when my head begins to spin. “You were a mistake.”
She huffs and looks around before stepping back into me. “Didn’t seem like it when you were inside of me.”
I open my arms wide, my chin angled upward, and even though I haven't had much to drink, the trees around me begin to wave and swirl. I do my best not to focus on it, to shut it out.
“What can I say…” I shrug. “You were just a place for me to bury my dick.”
She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, tugs at it.
“Then let me be that place again.” She tries for round two, and I shake my head, clicking my tongue against my teeth.
“No, thanks.” I walk away.
“No, thanks?” Her voice hits my back, hard and sharp, offended.
“You heard me,” I tell her, feeling a line of perspiration form at my hairline.
She laughs, and something tells me that if she doesn’t do that, she might just cry. Aria was the kind of girl that believed every man and woman wanted her.
Her ego gave me secondhand embarrassment.
“You like her, huh? A little more than you should? That serial killer’s daughter?”
I stop dead in my tracks, squeeze my eyes closed, spinning around carefully, feeling my heart bang harder in my chest.
Of course I like her, Laiken Campbell would always be a sister to me.
Aria is standing in front of me with her hands on her hips. The bottom of her black sequin dress hiked high on her thighs, the mask now pulled off her face, her cheeks ass red.
I take a step closer, then another, until I’m looking down at the trash I shouldn’t have picked up. And with a hold on my breath, I growl, “Careful.” And I almost believe I hear her heart skip.
I let my eyes trail the length of her, step back. Her cheeks are redder now, her eyes harder. With a shake of my head, I turn and walk away, speaking over my shoulder, “Where’s your boyfriend, anyway? Having problems finding his dick?”
Aria doesn’t reply, and when the soles of my shoes hit the pavement, I turn, hearing her mumbling something out in the distance but struggling to make out anything that makes any kind of sense.
Her words are a frazzled distortion. I blink a couple of times to clear the blurry film that has erected itself across my eyes, though it doesn’t move, it only seems to be getting worse.
I leave her behind and stumble inside, casting my eyes to every corner in search of Harlen or Jade or Laiken.
I fall into people, my shoulders taking out theirs. I feel wider, so much bigger.
What is happening to me?
I attempt to suck back a controlled breath but only meet shortness, a clipped hopeful end.
Reaching out, I latch onto the black painted railing and start to climb the floating stairs.
I’m moving too slowly and when I hit the last few, I don’t realize that I’m on my hands and knees until I find myself crawling up and into a room at the top of the stairs.
There’s a desk and a bookcase, and then…the sound of a door shutting, a lock bolting, and legs, three pairs of them, maybe six. I try to move on my own, to get to my feet, only to find them numb and unresponsive, hanging weightless in front of me.
Before I can do anything, a boot is coming toward me.
I listen to my ribs crack when everything goes black.
I can feel myself curl over though, fingers cradling the blow, but I can’t feel anything else. No impact, no pain, no ache.
I reach for my breath, dig around for it, but I can't find it. I try to blink, to open my eyes, but I can’t do that either. All I can do is listen, and when I do, there is a cacophony of laughter and insults and words that I can no longer decipher being hauled toward me.
I force my eyes open, blink to stop the walls around me from melting together. The last of my consciousness plays before my eyes and when another foot comes toward me, followed by a fist, I feel my soul leave my body.
The worst part of this attack wasn’t being hit.
I was used to my father’s fists.
It was what I heard next that had paralyzed me.
Colton’s voice is erratic and excited when he says their names, and it’s as if a blade stabs through my heart, digs and carves around.
Jade, Laiken, Jade, Laiken, Jade, Laiken.
My sister.
Her best friend.
Their names are what I hear on repeat as I sit there slumped against the wall, my arms at my side, unmoving, my legs numb, no longer working, while his fists pummel into me.
I try not to let go, I fight with everything I have, but when a crack to my temple takes me, I feel the weight of my breath expel from my chest.