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“I don’t know.” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “It doesn’t happen every night.”
His hand wrapped around the backs of my thighs, though they were covered by his massive hoodie, before pulling me closer to him. “How often does it happen?”
He had his head tilted up at me, his knees wide. If I moved closer, I’d be between them.
I didn’t. I remained frozen to the spot.
He didn’t care, because he pulled me in closer, wrapped his fingers around my chin, and tilted my head so that my eyes collided with his. Like comets racing through the sky.
Thunder clapped in the background and I jumped backward, just enough to slip out of his grip. “I don’t know. Once a week?”
He seemed to study me even closer. I wondered what he was thinking in this moment. Why I felt like he was screaming at me while simply speaking to me.
“Why do you do that?” he finally asked, his fingers flexing in the palm of his hand.
“Do what?” I whispered, still awed by the art that covered his face.
“Jump away from me when you get scared.”
“Aren’t you scary?” I asked, even though I knew I was being ridiculous. I’d always felt safe around Brantley. I guessed I wanted to know his answer.
He stood, and suddenly I shrank. “Scary?” He grinned when I looked up at him. “Nah, that’s not the right word.”
“Then what is?” I said just as he passed me. He stopped at the threshold between the sitting room and the main foyer.
Turning his face over his shoulder just slightly, he smirked. “I’m something. But that’s not it. One day I’ll tell you.”
He left, the front door closing in his departure. Then it was just me in this house. This cold, empty house. An empty vessel with no soul.
I pushed backward, reaching for the collar around my neck. “You need to take me home…”
“Mmmm,” Brantley murmured. “I don’t think I need to do shit.”
I stepped backward again, pulling on the lead. “Let fucking go of me!”
He glared up at me, unamused. “Cute. B, this one fights…”
Bishop laughed around the cigarette in his mouth. “The best ones always do.”
The other guy, who I now knew was Nate, flicked a knife between his fingers, his eyes on mine. They were wicked and bright. He was so pretty it hurt. “We like the fighters better.”
“Truth,” Brantley murmured, tracing the tip of a small switchblade up my inner thigh. “Because they leave battle scars everywhere.”
I tugged on the lead again, fear creeping up my spine and clinging to the back of my neck. I screamed, I pulled, but no one heard, or they just chose not to listen. The music got louder, the brash tones of “Killpop” from Slipknot playing.
Brantley chuckled, leaning back in his chair. He released the lead, smirked up at me, and mouthed, “Run.”
I did. I spun around and bolted, heading straight for the clearing of the meadow behind the house. My legs moved fast, thanks to all the cocaine I snorted. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, but the music wasn’t disappearing. If anything, it was getting louder. My heart thrashed in my chest, sweat pelting down my sides. I needed to just run to a safe area where I could call my dad. He would fix this. He would always fix this, and these fools are so. Fucking. Dead. They didn’t know who the fuck they’d messed with. My anger rose and rose higher until I was falling forward. Mud smudged my lips, dirt was in my mouth, and my head was thumping. I could taste metal at the back of my throat, but it wasn’t strong at first, not until warmth spilled from my lips. I reached backward, but caught nothing, until arms were under mine, tearing me to my feet.
“This one’s dramatic. Let’s take our fucking time with her.” Bishop smirked, his fingers wrapped around my chin to tilt my face to his. “Do you know who we are?”
I opened my mouth, but blood spilled out instead of words. Laughter swam around me in the shadows of the night, between the cracks of the trees. The music was still so loud, and then I realized I hadn’t run far at all.
Saint
I’ve harnessed the dog collars around them and shoved on a baseball cap before the sun has risen the next morning. I like starting my day before the rest of the world awakes. The air is always untainted, untouched, and unlived in. I grab my AirPods and my phone before closing my bedroom door. It’s not until I’m passing Brantley’s room that I notice his door is slightly ajar.
I pause, pulling on Kore and Hades to stop them from tugging on the lead. They love running about as much as me.
Taking a slight step backward, I push open his door farther. Mainly to make sure nothing is out of the ordinary, not that anyone or anything could get past our guards, but his room is never open. I’ve only ever seen inside it once in my life, and that was when I was eight years old.
