59
My father’s face reddens. He explodes. “You lying shit!” He knows I'm full of it, but the Andersons don’t. Guess this will shake whatever trust they have in either of us. Worth it. I slam the French doors closed behind me.
“Kieran? Tell me this is a joke?” Jax's father shakes out.
I shrug, unbothered, refusing to respond.
Mortensen tries his hardest to smooth it over.
“Please excuse my son, he is unwell.” He stalks over to me.
His clammy hand clasps my shoulder. I shrug him off.
“Unwell? Yeah, guess I am. Wonder whose fault that is?” I challenge.
A sharp rap on the door has my father on edge.
The room goes silent. He shuffles back over to the Andersons.
“Please, let us reconvene this evening,” he pleads.
His careful facade is slowly cracking, eroding away.
I fucking love it. The Andersons glare at me from their armchairs.
Mr. Anderson huffs. “Very well, but this is not over.”
The door bursts open. Zain stands in the doorway, Vesper shadowed behind him, along with Val, Grey, and Silas.
Zain's eyes hold a visceral edge. He's out for blood.
His madness has reached a breaking point.
He promised payment would come due for messing with Vesper.
I won't stand in the way of his retribution; we're in this together.
“Think you can do it without me?” Zain looks at me with a darkened smirk.
My head falls back as I suppress a laugh.
Before anyone can utter a word, Zain pulls a handgun from behind his back.
The same gun Mortensen passed down to me, also the same one he offed Jax with.
He fires it straight at Mr. Anderson. Mr. Anderson jumps up from the beaded leather seat.
Crimson fluid expels from the front of his suit.
He makes it a single step before he collapses to the floor with a thud.
Blood spills from his mouth and chest cavity, painting a crimson pool.
Mrs. Anderson lets out an ear-piercing shriek.
Blood splatter dots her pink beaded gown.
Zain rolls his eyes and squeezes the trigger again, this time at her.
Her body sinks backward into the chair, limp and lifeless.
Zain blows the end of the barrel before tossing it to me. I catch it effortlessly. “Loud ass bitch,” I mutter. Mortensen stands speechless. He shuffles backward until his body settles against his oversized desk. Zain strolls over to the other open chair next to Mrs. Anderson's corpse.
He sinks into the cool leather. “Inside, now,” he instructs our guys.
I keep my eyes trained on Mortensen. Never have I seen my father so shook up.
Guess who's finally come around? This is what he wanted.
Clara appears in the doorway. I beckon her inside.
I had a feeling she wouldn't follow directions and stay in class.
“Close the door,” I command Grey. I twirl the gun on my finger around the trigger, ensuring the safety is set.
“Come, Nightshade,” I purr, resisting the urge to soothe her from the duo of corpses lining the office.
When I kill him, I want my girl by my side where she belongs.
I want my father to seethe while he is forced to watch his son choose someone he despises.
His entire legacy was brought down by one impure angel.
Mortensen's eyes practically bug out of his head, disgust prevalent on his face.
The fact he looks down on her pisses me off more.
She's mine. The perfectly destroyed riven queen.
We are two broken halves that make a fucked up whole.
He will never understand. Clara nestles by my side in silence.
I steal a glance at her pretty heart shaped face.
Her face is a mask of indifference. Better than a broken shell of a woman.
She may never be okay, but I will be by her side one way or another.
“You fathered more bastard children than we probably know. You want to spout off purity as you rearrange the guts of all these women, pure or not,” I growl.
He blanches. “I can fuck who I wish. I admit I got carried away,” he grits through his teeth. His justification is laughable. “You breed with anything that moves. How many more are there?” I cock my head, interrogating him.
His beady eyes fall to Clara. “I don't know.” The way he looks at her like a bug that needs squashed rubs me wrong.
“Don't look at her, look at me. You don't deserve to breathe the same air as her.” He drags his eyes back to me. They're full of hatred and disdain. I decide it’s the perfect moment to fuck with his entire world. "Guess what?” I say smoothly.
His eyes crinkle at the corners as he drills into me.
He doesn't answer. That's okay. He just needs a little push.
“I'm finally going to lead.” I throw my hands up like a prick, waving the gun like a mad man.
“Just like you wanted.” I shout. “Guess who's gonna be at my side?”
I grip Clara tighter around her little waist.
I motion to everyone behind me. My crew.
He rears back in disgust. Bile rises in my throat at his reaction.
He changes his emotions with the snap of a finger. “I implore you to seek reason,” he pleads. I laugh wildly.
I bowl over in a dark, sinister laughter. “You're serious? You are the world's shitiest father. You disowned your own daughter. You tortured Vesper. You touched my girl.”
Zain's knuckles turn white. He's ready to unleash his monster. Like a rabid dog, once he's spun up there is no bringing him down. Val, Silas, and Grey lean against the door wordlessly keeping anyone from coming in. I nod at them. They latch the lock.
Unrefuted loyalty.
“You're the devil!” Vesper shouts at him. A cold, calculated smile builds on Mortensen's face. Crazy how he can change on a dime. A manipulator.
“What does that make you? Fucking your blood brother. You are no daughter of mine, you filthy impure bitch! You are both filthy impure trash!” he spews.
Zain hitches forward. “Watch that mouth before I cut your tongue out, old man.”
Mortensen turns his ire to Clara. “And you! You are a useless addict. A helpless mental case. I saw your file before I accepted you. Perfect grades, but a whore with a drug problem. You are not deserving of my son. You think he loves you? He can never breed with you,
we wouldn't want to taint the lineage. Thank God he sterilized you. Do you think for a second he will not discard you when a pure-blooded woman crosses his path? He is a God.”
His words cut deep, like opening an old incision.
Her face crumbles to ash and I know his words land harder on her.
My insides are like lead. I feel nothing but rage.
I open my mouth to spit venom, but my girl beats me to it.
“He is a God. He sterilized me to escape you and your sick, twisted Void. I will stand beside him. I love him. Every flaw, every scar. I will erase every painful memory you lashed into him and replace them with love if it means keeping him happy. But he is strong.
He will take every ounce of his anger, sadness, and destruction, wielding those emotions to be the strongest sovereign Grimshaw Academy has ever had.”
My heart seizes. Her innocence shakes my core.
She can never leash the beast. I will always be cruel and have a pathological fixation of her, but I will protect her like the deadly nightshade she is or die tryin’.
She's grown accustomed to my wild, predatory ways.
I squeeze her hand. Once the scared, docile little creature, now a fierce queen wielding her blade.
She just needed someone to fit those broken pieces back together.
She'll always be a broken fucked up jagged puzzle that has the ability to cut me. I need her this way.
He ignores her response entirely. “Kieran, don't be stupid. Have I taught you nothing? Purity is everything,” he parrots.
I laugh. “Really? You have no right to speak about purity.”
He reaches for something on the desk, before I can react I'm brought to the ground.
Stars paint my vision. A painful crack pierces my skull.
Screams ring out in the background. My vision blurs.
When I look up, Mortensen has Clara pinned around the neck with the barrel of my gun jammed into her temple.
“Always a failure.” His voice cuts through the screams, then everything goes black.