Chapter 30
Ophelia
“She Will” Lil’ Wayne & Drake”
Brayden has barely spoken to me since the gala. Which honestly should feel like relief. Instead, it just feels ominous. Like the silence before a hurricane tears through everything.
He still texts and watches me at school… sometimes with those cold calculating eyes, but he hasn’t touched me again. Hasn’t cornered or threatened me. Somehow, that almost feels worse because Brayden isn’t the type to let things go. Especially not control.
I spend the entire school day searching the hallways for Hayden. Pathetic, I know, but after the bruises and the way he held me that night… he’s become distant.
I can’t stop worrying, especially after the call from his mother. He hasn’t answered a single text in three days. Not one.
Me:
Are you okay?
Me:
For the love of God, Hayden, just answer me.
Me:
I miss you.
Nothing. No cocky comments. No Firefly.
And it’s driving me fucking insane.
By lunch, my anxiety sits so heavy in my chest I can barely breathe. I wish Bianca was here with me. She graduated last year, so I’m stuck in this place with no one, but I take out my phone and text her anyway.
Me:
He still won’t answer me.
Bestie:
Ah… dickmatized distress.
Me:
What the fuck. That is not a real thing.
Bestie:
Neither is your self respect around that man.
Me:
Shut up.
Bestie:
Never.
Me:
How's Stone?
Bestie:
Nope, not doing this through text. Receipts last forever.
Me:
Later then. I have burning questions.
Bestie:
Let it burn, baby. I’ll scoop you from school.
Me:
I drove. I’ll just meet you at the Warehouse.
Bestie:
Partyyyy tonight.
Me:
Fuck yes!
The bell rings and I walk into the hallway, still searching for Hayden but no sign of him anywhere. Something feels wrong again.
I’m shoving my books into my locker when a too-familiar voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts.
“Well isn’t it Brimstone’s favorite psycho Barbie.”
I roll my eyes.
Tracy.
I slam my locker harder than necessary before turning toward her. “What do you want?”
She leans casually against the lockers chewing gum obnoxiously. “Relax. Ghost likes it when I’m mean.”
My stomach twists. What the fuck?
“What?” I ask, and she smirks.
“Oops.”
No. No fucking way.
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?” she says, tilting her head mockingly. “I mean… I was at his apartment this week.”
Ice floods my veins. No. Hayden wouldn’t—would he?
“What apartment?” I ask quietly, and she rolls her eyes dramatically.
“The shitty one in Daggerspoint with the black couch and those ugly kitchen cabinets?”
My blood runs cold. She got it right. Every detail. Every single one. Pain slices through my chest so fast it almost knocks the breath from me. No wonder he stopped answering. Is she why he disappeared? Fuck this. I pull my phone out immediately, shaking with rage.
Me:
Are you fucking serious right now?
Me:
You disappear for days and fuck Tracy in your apartment?
Me:
You are EXACTLY like everybody said you were.
Me:
Don’t ever touch me again, Hayden.
Nothing.
Still nothing.
Of course, because apparently humiliation is the theme of my fucking life lately.
Later that night, I'm vibrating with heartbreak and fury. The party’s already in full swing. Music pounding. Bodies everywhere. Smoke curling beneath flashing lights while drunk idiots dance on furniture like they lack survival instinct.
Normal warehouse behavior.
“Still pissed off?” Bianca asks, bumping her hip into mine.
“Yep! And he still hasn’t answered. This fucking sucks,” I say, and she pulls me into a hug.
“He seriously has a death wish. It will be okay,” she tells me, and I sniffle.
“I hate him,” I say, and she laughs.
“Mmhmm.”
“I’m serious.” And she snorts.
“You say that every three business days.”
And now, it’s my turn to laugh. She’s right. I either love him or hate him. There’s never any in between.
I collapse beside her on the couch, clutching vodka for emotional support.
But underneath the anger.
Something hurts worse.
Because Hayden promised.
Promised he wasn’t letting me go.
Promised I was his, and maybe I was stupid enough to believe him.
Hours pass and I’m no longer feeling the alcohol. All I feel is rage and something far more dangerous.
The party grows louder. Drunker. Wilder.
And somewhere around midnight… I see Tracy.
Laughing with friends near the loading docks.
Perfect makeup. Perfect little smirk.
My vision tunnels instantly.
Rage crawls hot and poisonous beneath my skin while every ugly emotion from the past week boils violently upward.
Hayden ignoring me.
Brayden hurting me.
My father controlling me.
And now this bitch standing here, smiling like she won something.
No.
Absolutely the fuck not.
I watch quietly when she finally leaves the warehouse alone.
I stopped drinking hours ago, so I follow her.
The roads outside Brimstone entering Whitestone are mostly empty this late.
Just darkness and trees. She has no idea I’m behind her at first. Not until I speed up. Closer and closer.
My engine roars loudly, enough to make her glance nervously in the mirror.
Then I gun it.
The fear on her face when she realizes it's me sends something horrifyingly satisfying through my chest.
She swerves suddenly. “What the fuck?!”
I slam my bike against the side of her car hard enough to jolt it violently sideways.
Tracy screams and the vehicle fishtails hard before veering completely off the road into the ditch.
Metal crunches violently then silence follows.
For a long second, I just sit here, breathing hard.
Then I climb off the bike.
Tracy stumbles from the wreck crying. “Are you fucking insane?”
Yes. Probably.
“You slept with him?” My voice shakes, and she blinks in confusion.
“What?”
“You slept with Hayden?”
Realization flashes across her face… then unbelievably—she laughs.
“He’s obsessed with you, Ophelia.”
That answer should calm me down. Instead, it enrages me more.
“Then why were you at his apartment?” I ask, and she huffs.
“He was buying drugs from my cousin!” she snaps back. “Jesus Christ!"
Oh. Oh no. Hayden buying drugs. What? But then she smirks.
“You really are pathetic over him. I don’t mind him cumming in me while he moans your name. It's cool.” She shrugs, and something inside me finally breaks.
I grab her by the hair and slam her head against the side of the wrecked car hard enough to rock the entire frame.
“You stupid cunt!” I scream in her face.
Tracy cries out instantly, clawing at my arms, my hoodie, my skin, but I barely even feel it. Rage is eating me alive from the inside out. Hot. Blinding. Violent enough to drown everything else .
She swings at me wildly, catching my lip with her ring.
Bad move.
I hit her harder.
My fist cracks against her cheekbone once. Twice. Again.
Blood sprays across my knuckles while her screams echo down the abandoned road sharp enough to make my skin vibrate.
“Please stop,” she sobs, collapsing against the pavement. “Please!”
But I can’t because, suddenly, I don’t see Tracy anymore.
I see Hayden bloodied in a prison jumpsuit. Brayden’s hand around my throat. My father smiling while destroying every piece of my life.
Pain. Pain.
And for once…
I need somebody else to fucking feel it too.
She tries crawling away, crying hysterically through broken sobs.
“I didn’t even sleep with him!” she chokes out desperately. “Oh my God, you’re fucking crazy!”
Maybe I am.
I grab her hair again, yanking her backwards so hard she screams while her nails scrape helplessly against the pavement.
“You think this is funny?” I snarl.
“No! No please!”
My boot slams into her ribs hard enough to make something crack loudly beneath the impact. She shrieks.
The sound cuts off halfway into a wet choking gasp while she curls around herself, trembling uncontrollably..
“Oh my God!” she wheezes painfully. “Please…”
“Shut up!”
I kick her again. And again.
Her body jerks weakly across the asphalt while blood pours from her nose and mouth now.
Somewhere deep in the back of my mind, a terrified voice is screaming at me to stop. But the rage is louder. Always louder.
Tracy drags herself toward the wrecked car, leaving bloody handprints behind her while crying so hard she can barely breathe.
Then her hand closes around something near the tire.
A gun.
Fear detonates instantly.
She swings towards me, shaking violently. “No!” she screams hysterically. “Stay the fuck away from me!”
Then the gun clicks. Empty.
Thank fucking god.
I lunge before she can think.
My fingers wrap around a jagged piece of twisted metal near the wreck without even processing it.
Then I bring it down.
Hard.
She screams.
Again.
The metal cracks against her shoulder first. Then her face.
Blood explodes hot across my skin.
Again.
A wet crunch.
Again.
Her screams turn into choking sobs.
Again.
The side of her face caves beneath the blow.
Oh God.
Again.
Againagainagainagain—
Until suddenly…
Nothing. No screaming. No movement. Just my ragged breathing filling the empty road. The metal slips from my trembling fingers, hitting the pavement with a horrible metal clang.
Silence crashes around me so loudly it makes my ears ring. Tracy’s body lies twisted beside the wreck.
Too much blood. Way too much fucking blood.
“Oh my God…”
The words barely leave my mouth before nausea slams through me hard enough I nearly collapse.
I killed her. I fucking killed her.
My entire body starts shaking while tears blur my vision. I stumble backward, staring at the body in complete horror.
What did I do?
What the fuck did I just do?
My hands are covered in blood. Her blood.
It’s dripping down my wrists. Under my nails. Splattered across my face and clothes while panic tears through my chest.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t fucking breathe.
My shaking fingers fumble desperately for my phone, nearly dropping it twice before finally finding Hayden’s contact.
Please answer.
Please answer.
Please answer
Then finally—
“What?” Hayden’s rough voice comes through exhausted, and I completely lose it.
“Hayden!” I scream hysterically. “Please help me!”
Silence.
“Firefly, what happened?”
“I fucked up,” I sob violently. “Oh my God, I fucked up so bad–”
“Where are you?”
Twenty minutes later, headlights flood the abandoned road. Hayden jumps off his bike, immediately stalking towards me fast enough to terrify me a little.
“I was working,” he snaps. “That’s why I wasn’t answering all day–” Then he sees the body. Silence. His expression changes instantly.
Shock first. Then anger then… something darker. Almost impressed.
“What the fuck did you do?”
I stare at him horrified. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like this is funny!”
“It's not funny,” he says, crouching beside the body and examining the damage. “Jesus Christ, Firefly.”
Tears spill harder down my face. “I killed her.”
“Yeah,” he mutters. “You definitely did.”
“I didn’t mean to!” I shout as he stands slowly before grabbing my bloody face gently.
“Hey.” His voice softens instantly. “Breathe.”
I can’t. I physically can't stop shaking.
“She said she slept with you,” I whisper. “I thought—”
Realization flashes across his face immediately.
“Oh my God.” Hayden actually laughs once in disbelief. “You killed Tracy because you thought I fucked her?”
“That’s not funny!” I scream. He bites his bottom lip. Asshole.
Then his expression softens again while brushing blood from my cheek gently. “Crazy fucking girl,” he murmurs quietly.
“Yeah, I am, and I’m so fucking mad at you,” I growl, and he sighs, pulling out his phone.
“Clean up time.” he says, then fifteen minutes later, the twins arrive.
“Holy shit.” Ryker stops dead in his tracks, probably not expecting me to be the one covered in blood beside a dead girl.
Ryder blinks slowly. “Did… did Ophelia kill somebody?” he asks, like I’m not fucking standing right here.
Hayden folds his arms proudly. “Sure did.”
“I HATE YOU!” I yell, and they all burst out laughing.
“Nah, this is iconic,” Ryker states.
“She’s traumatized,” Hayden mutters.
“She caved that girl's face in!” Ryder says, sounding impressed, and once again, speaking to each other like I’m not right here.
“Okay,” Hayden sighs. “Less commentary. More clean up.”
While the twins handle the body, Hayden quietly asks, “How's Kayla doing?”
Ryker’s expression softens slightly. “Better.” I wonder what happened, but then the buzzing in my pocket takes me right out of my thoughts, and I see it’s Brayden.
Brayden:
Where are you?
Brayden:
Answer me.
Brayden:
OPHELIA
While Brayden continues to blow up my phone nonstop, Hayden helps me onto his bike. “You wanna go home?” he asks, but I shake my head.
“No.” Home doesn’t feel safe anymore anyway.
He nods once. “Okay.”
The second we get back to his apartment, he walks me straight into the shower fully clothed. Warm water pours pink around my feet while he carefully washes blood from my skin. Every touch feels gentle, like he’s trying to piece me back together silently.
“You okay?” he murmurs while kissing my shoulder softly.
“No.”
Honest answer.
Hayden presses another kiss against my neck anyway. “I got you.”
And somehow… I believe him.
Later, he burns my bloody clothes in a barrel outside his apartment while I watch, wrapped in one of his hoodies.
Evidence turning to ash beneath the night sky.
Then he brings me back to bed.
And when the nightmares start clawing at my brain the second I close my eyes… He kisses me slow and deep until I stop thinking entirely. Keeping my mind occupied exactly the way he knows how.
By the time sleep finally takes me hours later… I’m wrapped safely in the arms of the boy I want to spend the rest of my life with… But sometimes life does funny things, because I can bet my life on it that in the far distance of my brain I heard Hayden tell Brayden, “She will never be yours.”