Page 28 of Twisted Heathens

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Page 28 of Twisted Heathens

“Making sure you’re okay,” Kade replies.

“You might need some help cleaning up,” Phoenix adds suggestively.

Her eyes meet mine and I shrug. She puts her hands on her hips, looking fierce as fuck with her eyebrows pinched in a frown, bloody trails running down her furious face. “You’re not coming in.”

“We are,” Kade deadpans.

“You’re not.”

“Brooklyn—”

“Not a fucking chance!”

Her and Kade stare off, but they’re both equally stubborn so to simplify matters I quickly swipe the key card and open the door, tossing it back over my shoulder for her to catch.

“Bunch of persistent assholes,” she hisses.

Once inside, I’m astounded by the sheer emptiness of her room. There’s nothing personal. Not a scrap. No photos or clutter, nor any cushions, blankets or fairy lights like the other girls have. There’s a single black bag sticking out slightly from under the bed. A quick peek in the wardrobe reveals even less clothing than I own.

Phoenix casts me a loaded look before sprawling out on the bed, kicking his feet up like he owns the place. He studies the room closely, cataloguing the sheer lack of personality.

“Make yourself at home, why don’t you.”

Brooklyn glares, paying no attention to Kade who is making his own assessments, also taking a subtle glance in the wardrobe.

“Will do, sweetness,” Phoenix chirps back.

Kade passes me and takes a seat at the desk, eyes assessing with his professional mask firmly in place. I can see how uncomfortable Brooklyn is, glancing around anxiously as we invade her privacy.

With a final exasperated eye roll, she disappears into the bathroom to clean up. As soon as the door clicks shut, Phoenix sits upright, his playfulness long forgotten. It’s weird to see him looking so serious and concerned.

“The fuck is going on? Didn’t you sort her arrival?” he bellows.

“Of course! She snatched the damn key card and let herself in,” Kade answers gruffly. “I didn’t know she’s been living like this or that she didn’t have anything.”

“What happened to, ‘it’s my job’, huh? This is bullshit and you know it.”

“She’s a grown adult, I’m hardly responsible for looking after her!”

“You work for Blackwood. Don’t give me that shit,” Phoenix seethes.

“I volunteer! And it’s not like I haven’t got enough to worry about with you three!” Kade growls, clearly infuriated.

Their argument escalates and I turn away, unwilling to get between them. Raised voices immediately trigger my senses to work overtime, so I’ve got to escape. I creep over to the bathroom door, peering in through the gap to check on Brooklyn.

The sight of her standing over the sink, hands clenched on the ceramic as she silently sobs shatters whatever pathetic pieces are left of my heart. Thick tears trail down her cheeks and she angrily scrubs them away, silently cursing herself for being stupid.

What is she doing to me?

How do I make it stop?

Feelings are toxic to me. Numbness is my preferred state of being. But in the handful of days since she breezed in without any fucks to give, I’ve been more over-sensitised than ever. She’s broken in a way that is plain as day to me, calling out to my own greedy demons. I’ve always loved breaking things and she’s teetering on the edge. I want nothing more than to shove her off the precipice and follow her all the way down.

Gently easing the door open, I slip inside the cramped room. She startles, flinching back and scrubbing at the pink tears streaming down her face. “Eli, what the—”

Social skills aren’t exactly my forte. I’m fucking mute, I struggle with this kind of shit. But I’m just going with what feels right. My palm connects with her cheek, thumb tracing the line of her jaw. I brush her rapidly swelling eye, bruising around the socket. Fuck, I love the way her skin tarnishes. Blossoming in shades of black and purple. I’d love to mark her myself.

I gravitate down to her split lip as she visibly winces in pain, reluctant to display weakness but unable to hold it in. I can’t help myself, I press the bloody cut and make her flinch some more. There’s something fascinating about her pain, I desperately want to hurt her. But something stops me. No, I can’t be that person with her. It’s not normal.




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