I shake him, making his head loll in an awkward position as if about to snap. When he speaks again, I lean closer to his blood-soaked face, all swollen and unrecognizable.
“S-she…she…b-begged for…my cock.”
I freeze, and for a second, I think I’m going to turn to ice and break.
I don’t.
A deep, black rage envelops me in its clutches like a vice. I rise to my feet, my muscles clenching so tight as if about to fucking crack.
I kick him in the groin until he wheezes in pain. “This cock?”
He groans and spasms on the floor, but I don’t stop. I keep kicking him over and over again until I’m sure I’ve turned him impotent.
It’s a mistake such a sick fucker like him has a working dick anyway.
Once he’s no longer moving, I leave his suburban house that he got by teaching kids and getting into their pants.
After making sure no one sees me, I slip out the back entrance and through the bushes where I hid my car.
For a second, I stand there, panting. My hands are smeared in blood, and my shoes are too. I can barely breathe with the ski mask on.
This is what she turned me into.
A fucking criminal with no regrets whatsoever.
She pulled me by the gut years ago and since refused to let me go.
I retrieve my phone and dial the person who’ll take care of this whole mess.
“Alexander Carson speaking.”
Only my father would answer his son’s call by stating his full name.
“Asher Gray Carson speaking.” I can’t help the sarcasm.
He sighs. “What is it, Asher? I’m busy.”
“You’ll get busier then.”
“What did you do now? Hit another student for looking at Reina?” He sighs again. “I’m tired of your antics with your classmates. I can’t keep paying off those kids’ parents every time.”
“Sure you can. That’s your role, isn’t it? Paying for things.”
I can imagine him closing his eyes and rubbing his brows. It’s what he does every time I tell him he was never a father to Ari or me, as if he’s searching for the patience to deal with me.
“Is there a point behind your call, Asher? If not, I have things—”
“I hit a teacher. It’s the worst beating so far. I don’t know if he’ll live or die.”
“What did you just say?”
“A teacher, Alexander. I want him gone from Blackwood. Make sure to search his background—he’s a fucking pedophile.”
“How involved are you?” His voice is strained.
To an outsider, it’d seem as if he cares about his son’s wellbeing. In reality, he doesn’t want anything to smear his perfect, diligent name, which he spent years building. If his son is labeled a criminal, no one will hire his firm.
I stare at my hands and the blood glinting in the light.
How involved am I?
“Very deeply,” I tell Alexander.
“Have you left any fingerprints?”
“A few, yes.” I came with gloves, but I had to feel his blood on my skin.
“Fucking hell.” He breathes into the phone. “Fine, leave. I’ll take care of it.”
I hang up without another word. Alexander doesn’t deserve any thanks. After all, he left us alone to fend for each other after Mom’s death. The least he can do is pay the price for what we’ve become.
Me, full of rage and deep-seated pain.
Ari, fragile and sometimes cold.
It takes me fifteen minutes to reach our house and then head to my room. For a moment, I stop in front of the room opposite mine.
Her room.
Since her father’s death at the beginning of the year, Reina’s been living with us.
With me.
In person, but never in mind.
My fists clench on either side of me as I remember the fucker’s words.
She begged for my cock.
He could have been lying. I should believe that, but he was in no state of mind to think of a lie after I beat him nearly to death.
Besides, after all Reina has done, what makes this any different?
I close my eyes to push the thought of her away, but the sucking sounds she made from under that table as he stroked her hair assault my brain. She sounded like a fucking porn star.
I should’ve killed that motherfucker.
“What…what happened?” Her slightly breathy voice makes my eyes open.
Reina stands at her doorway in her sleeping shorts and top. They mold against her athletic body like a second skin.
A temptress. She’s always been such a fucking temptress.
Her eyes that usually hold no emotions widen a little as she takes in my bloodied hands and shoes, my clenched fists and jaw. I bet I’m a sight to behold.
“What’s with your hands? Why is there blood?” She approaches me and reaches a hand out as if to touch me before she quickly drops it to her side, realizing who she is and who I am.
Reina doesn’t touch me. She doesn’t even let me kiss her. The few times I tried, she shut me off so hard, it still draws a black hole in my chest.
But she begged for the teacher’s cock.
She lets the other football players flirt with her as if she’s single.
As if I don’t fucking exist.
“Have you been hitting people again? What is wrong with you?” She folds her arms over her chest, building that invisible wall between us.
I fucking hate it when she does that.
At this time, I have no room to think, let alone act rationally.
The rage that’s been plaguing me since the afternoon has mounted and heightened to dangerous levels.
I thought beating that sick fuck would satiate it, but it’s made it worse.
Or rather, his words did.
I storm toward Reina and wrap my hand around her throat, my bloodied hand with the busted knuckles. Reina barely flinches as I slam her back against the wall.
“You.” My mouth hovers inches away from hers. “You’re what’s fucking wrong with me, Reina.”
Her face reddens—from the lack of air—but she doesn’t struggle. She doesn’t attempt to push me off her.
A statue.
A cold, lifeless statue.
Why the fuck have I ever thought she could be something else?
I release her with a roar, my tendons ripping with tension. Then I slam my fists on either side of her face, ripping my knuckles even more.
Fresh blood trails down the wall as I pant, staring down at her. She watches me back with eyes so blue, they could drown me.
She doesn’t even blink, just stands there.
But for the first time in a long time, a tear slides down her cheek. It’s only one single tear, but it creates havoc in her gaze.
For a moment, her eyes fill with a deep sense of sadness, and it guts me. It rips me open and cuts me into pieces.
I don’t think when I lower my head and slam my lips to hers, biting them, devouring them. Reina is that forbidden fruit, something that tastes exquisite because it’s sin. Her mouth trembles and I take the opening to thrust my tongue inside. I feast on her, on her breaths and the softness. On her taste and even her fucking coldness.
She doesn’t kiss me back. Reina never kisses me back, but at least this time, she doesn’t push me away, she just lets me kiss the daylights out of her while she stands there, both her hands glued to her side.