24
A loose joint hangs from my lips. I drown in the buzz.
Zain sits next to me on the faded stone bench outside of the Lexicon building.
The streetlamps illuminate the path along the courtyard.
We're the only fucks crazy enough to sit outside in the dead of winter.
My insides are coiled tight from my earlier run in with Mortensen.
He revealed shit I had no desire to know.
Now, I'm forced to confront my best friend.
Mortensen is the king of stirring shit up.
I'm losing my head from all this bullshit.
“Is Vesper your sister?” I ask. I spread my legs and fan my arms out over the bench, getting comfortable.
I pinch the joint between my fingers and hold it out to Zain.
His head snaps to me. He's wearing his usual unapproachable scowl.
He may explode on me, but there's no way around this conversation. Shit needs to be laid out in the open.
“Who the fuck told you that?” he deflects, spitting rage in his words. He takes the joint, inhaling a heavy hit.
I scoff and remain nonchalant. I really couldn't give a fuck, what I do give a fuck about is that he used my gun. “Who the hell do you think?”
He passes the joint back. Smoke hazes the air around us. His jaw clenches.
“Half-sister.” he corrects, waving the cloud of smoke away.
I shrug. “I don’t give a fuck. No judgement here, man. What I do give a fuck about is you using my Goddamn gun.” I slump forward and rest my elbows on my thighs. I take another hit before flicking it to the damp stoney ground.
He leans forward. His fingers thread through his hair. “I knew you wouldn't be implemented. Wasn't planning on them findin’ the body, either,” he spits, eyeing me.
My lip curls. “Well, the police did. Now guess who's dealing with the consequences?”
He surges up from the bench. “Mortensen wouldn't say shit.
It would ruin his image and the image of the school to know a student was behind it.
Don't read into his mindfuck bullshit. He hasn't announced details to the student body because he's weighing his options.
He's tryin' to play his cards right. We need to be one step ahead.
He's talked to the police, if he had any dirt one of us would be arrested.”
I rest my forehead in my palms. “Man, I don't want to be involved in this shit. He's not gonna let this go. Shit, Jax's parents won't let Mortensen sweep it under the rug!”
I bark. I grow increasingly annoyed. More than I should be.
My gaze snaps back to Zain. He looks unbothered, as always.
Since when am I the one giving a shit about how stuff plays out?
I wish I could go back to indulging in pussy and drugs.
It was easier to bury my head in the sand than to deal with the bullshit thrown my way.
Zain digs his hands in his hoodie. “As far as Mortensen is concerned, it was a random attack. You're lettin’ him under your skin.” He rolls his shoulders.
I grind my molars. My head rolls back. “I can't help Clara,” I say through clenched teeth.
Not in the way Vesper and Zain want. What she needs is saved from the fuckery that is Void.
All I would replace it with is my depravity.
Mortensen has offered me a key to the locked door, and Clara is the prize behind it.
My fixation has turned into an unhealthy obsession.
He knows I won’t let anyone else fuck her.
Mortensen's ultimatum is not happening. It can't.
It pisses me off how much I give a shit about her, how far she's embedded into my skin.
I should let things play out and move on, but she's a bad habit I keep reaching for.
What options do I have left? I have one.
It would offer me self-absolution while simultaneously destroying her from the inside out.
Temptation fills me. I’m a fucked up mess.
I never claimed to be otherwise. She will have to live with the destruction I will cause her.
The cinder and ash I will lay at her feet will only show her how fucked up I truly am.
Zain cocks his head. A sinister smirk plays over his lips. “Can't win 'em all.” He says as if he knows the shit I’m about to do. When that time comes, she will see me for the abomination I truly am. Act first, think later.