9. Roxy
Roxy
My body twists beneath the blankets, soft sheets tangling around my legs. But even the expensive material feels rough against my heated skin.
My shallow breath is the only noise in the silence. Every nerve in my body screams.
Heavy eyes are on me.
Watching and waiting.
Liquid warmth crawls over my skin, shivering at the base of my spine. The feeling is so real that everything else fades away.
Someone stands in the darkness. I’m not sure how I know this, because I can’t see them. Can’t hear them. But I can feel them.
The weight of their stare burns into my skin like a brand. Danger crackles in the air, and instincts flare inside me to move. To run.
Run, Roxy.
Heavy, my limbs refuse to listen.
In the pitch-black, something shifts. A shadow, detaching from the corner of the room, looming tall and large. Movements so controlled that they seem unnatural. Otherworldly in its smoothness.
My heart begins to hammer.
“Kai?”
He doesn’t reply. He never does. The shadow takes one slow step.
Fear floods my system, icy cold and sharp. My pulse beats in my ears, and adrenaline trickles through me. It does something far more dangerous than make me want to run. The terror swirls through me until it feels more like need. It pools in my core, heating my skin and tightening my nipples.
His face remains hidden, consumed by the shadows. But I can recognise those eyes, even in the darkest of nights.
Cold and impossibly dark. Swallowing the night whole. Unblinking. Unfeeling.
The air tightens around my body, my skin prickling as his presence draws closer and closer. Every cell in my body screams that he’s here, even before I dare to look.
My lips part to scream... and my entire body jolts upright.
Air heaves into my lungs. Cold sweat beads on my chest as it rises and falls in violent bursts.
“What the fuck,” I mutter, searching the room.
The very empty room.
Completely devoid of men with leather cuts and intense eyes. Just silence.
I drag a trembling hand over my face, trying to shake myself from the dream.
The nightmare.
Even awake, I can still feel him. It’s how it’s been for the last day. I haven’t seen him since he shoved me against the window, but I’ve felt him. Always guarding. Always watching.
It should scare me.
I force myself to take slow breaths. In and out. In and out. Eventually my pulse settles and I flick on a light. My fluffy socks barely touch the polished floor before something catches my eye.
On the bedside table, a black case rests harmlessly in the centre. My brows pinch together. I reach for it carefully, half expecting something to jump out and scare me.
The latch clicks open, and I gasp, bringing my hand to my mouth.
“Oh my fucking God,” I whisper.
It’s beautiful. A sparkling new matte black tattoo machine. Every piece sits nestled inside dense foam. It’s so stunning, I can barely bring myself to run my fingers over it.
All I can do is stare.
I don’t understand.
A disturbing possibility slips into my mind.
Kai was here. This was him.
I swallow the emotion building thick in my throat. No one has gotten me anything like this.
A sharp ringtone slices through my thoughts, and I jump so violently the machine nearly crashes to the floor. My phone vibrates next to me, and I blindly reach for it, unable to take my eyes off the machine on my lap.
My voice is thick with sleep. “Hello?”
The silence makes me pause, bringing the phone in front of my face to see if it connected.
Unknown number.
I bring it to my ear.
“It’s one in the morning,” I grumble.
A low chuckle rumbles in my ear. Amused and smug.
“Little sister,” the voice purrs.
Ice-cold dread sluices through my veins.
“Isaac,” I whisper, eyes falling shut.
“So, she does remember we exist,” my brother muses. I can hear the cruel smirk in his voice. “I wasn’t sure if you got our little message.”
My top lip curls at the memory of the state of my studio. “What do you want?”
I can barely keep the phone to my ear with the way my hand shakes. The voice I haven’t heard for years but could never forget. Isaac is the eldest of my brothers, and the cruellest.
The very voice spilling through my phone is one that haunts my nightmares. One full of taunts and threats and vicious promises.
He chuckles.
“Can’t a brother call his little sister?” he croons. “We miss you, Roxanne. Why have you been hiding from us?”
His voice makes me feel sick. I settle heavy on the bed before the floor falls out from under me.
It’s been years. Years of them not bothering to find me. Can’t they just leave me the fuck alone?
I can just imagine him pacing in that godforsaken house. Walls covered in graffiti and holes in every room. Cigarette ash deep in the carpets. The smell of stale beer and sex. My other brother, Ethan, sitting on the couch with his friends, the whole fucking clown show just grinning at my fear.
“Imagine my surprise when we found you in Devil territory,” he continues. “You’ve been keeping interesting company.”
My heartbeat stumbles over itself.
I don’t reply, and he scoffs.
“Oh, Roxanne. Sweet little Roxanne. Don’t tell me you’re opening your little whore legs for a Devil now?” The backs of my eyes burn with rage I can barely keep inside. “That’d just be disrespectful, you know that, right?”
Every word he utters comes out as a taunt. Teasing and prodding, with a smirk on his face the entire time.
“Things have changed, little sister.”
“What do you want?” I grit again.
He clicks his tongue.
“Hmm, I suppose I don’t want anything from you,” he muses. The silence in his pause has my fingers tightening around my phone. “Yet.”
A hot tear finally slips past my lashes.
You didn’t run far enough, Roxy.
Far enough doesn’t exist.
“Leave me alone,” I plead.
A grunt rattles the speaker. “I don’t think I will. Oh, and Roxanne?”
I wait, biting my tongue until I taste blood.
“You remember Jacob, right?” Everything in me freezes. My next breath is lodged in my throat. “Who am I kidding? Of course you do.” His tone is laced with disgust. “Let me know if you see him around. We haven’t seen him in a few days.”
He knows.
It’s the only thing I’m sure of, as I bring the phone down slowly and hang up.
He knows I murdered their friend.
I tried to run. Tried to be free. It obviously didn’t work.
They found me anyway. A part of me thinks they were always going to.
No matter how far I ran, how fast I ran, my past was always going to catch up to me.
Maybe running is useless. Maybe it’s time I stopped running.
I’ve been ignoring the very fact that I’m not alone in my hatred for my brothers and their club.
The Wraiths.
It’s the first time I’ve ever let myself acknowledge the name since I left.
Outside my door stands a predator. Death personified.
My best friend runs with these heathens.
Her man runs these heathens.
I’m not alone anymore.
Steeling my jaw, I get dressed, slowly putting my armour on piece by piece. Mascara, lipstick, hair slicked back.
Scared that someone might take it away, I shove the brand-new tattoo gun under the bed. Hiding it away from plain sight.
Once my hand wraps around Kitty, everything else fades away. I’m ready to fucking fight for my life. One last time.
Just as I knew he’d be, Kai stands outside the door. Motionless and ready, like a true soldier.
There is no sign that he’s shocked by me coming out here. Just the slow settling of his eyes on mine.
“Take me to your club,” I whisper.
He searches me. Lifting my chin, I let him. All he’ll see on my face is furious resolve. It’s been twenty-four years of constant torment. I won’t last another.
Eventually he nods. Just once. Then turns towards the elevator.
“Just one more thing,” I mutter to myself, reaching into my pocket for my phone.
It clatters onto the floor, and Kai watches me over his shoulder.
The satisfying crunch of Kitty smashing into the glass screen isn’t quite enough. I do it three more times until I’m satisfied that the damn thing will never ring again.
Humming, I spin the bat in my hand, sauntering to the elevator. Feeling Kai’s gaze burn through me the entire way.
Kitty’s death toll: 2