“I think I should go,” I say, panic crawling up my spine like a dark monster with sharp claws.
Jacob wipes away his tears and stares at me, as if I’ve just taken him by surprise. “I’ll wake Damien up—”
“No.” I laugh, and it sounds a lot more bitter than I wanted it to. “I guess he’d rather stay with you, anyway.”
“Okay . . . are you sure?”
“He doesn’t need me anymore, Jacob. He has you now.”
I should’t have said that! Fuck!
Before he can even attempt to respond, I turn on my heels and storm through the crowded apartment. All eyes are on me, filling me with a kind of shame and anxiety I’m not used to. I make it my mission not to cross gazes with anyone as I reach for the door and slam it behind me. Jacob is calling for me while I run down the metal stairs that creak underneath my feet, but I ignore him.
Fuck all of this.
Fuck Jacob and Damien.
And fuck me too, for being so ridiculous.
I’m panicking and raging at the same time, pressure building on the back of my head. I can barely keep my breathing stable as I shove the door of our Jeep Grand Cherokee open and climb in.
Jacob runs down the stairs, his eyes fixed on me as I turn on the engine and put the car in drive. I don’t want to be rude to him, but I can’t stay. I can’t listen to him anymore. I can’t look at his handsome face and not want to destroy it with my own hands. I’m stuck between wanting him for myself, and wanting him dead for stealing my brother.
Something has gotten into me, and it’s not friendly. I drive away as fast as I can, staring through the rearview mirror at Jacob’s frozen figure.
Twelve
Killien
There’s blood on my hands. Hot and coppery. I drank so much I think I’m gonna throw up, but it’s not enough to satiate my hunger for destruction. Two human bodies lie beneath my feet, all torn and broken. Unrecognizable, even.
Fuck them.
The first guy insisted on following me as I walked out of the bar. Made my hunt a lot easier, the prick. I lured him into the alley and jumped on his throat the minute he dared to get close enough. What exactly had he wanted? I didn’t even bother reading his mind. I didn’t fucking care.
The funny thing is, after I drank enough to leave him almost unconscious, I beat him to death with my fists. Because I wanted to. I felt his bones crack under my supernatural strength, the air leaving his lungs with every punch on his stomach. It was like music to my ears.
And he kept staring at me. Even as he was beginning to drift away, his pupils followed my movements. At some point, he gave up, and his gaze no longer showed fear, so I dug my fingers into his eye sockets. That’s how he met his end. And I loved every single second of it.
Just when I was about to collapse on the floor, trembling with rage, another man walked into the alley. He was bigger than me, all muscle and tattoos and shit. He kinda reminded me of Jacob, to be honest. So damn hot and perfect. And that set me off.
His eyes widened when he saw me standing over a dead body. Obviously, he ended up with my bloody hands wrapped around his neck. He put up a fight, tried digging his nails into my arms, kicking and even biting me. But all it did was fuel my anger. The more he reminded me of Jacob, the more I lashed out at him.
I’ve never been one to enjoy violence for the sake of violence. But tonight, I did. Maybe because right now I’m not really myself. Something inside me has cracked open and unleashed a beast I had tightly sealed in the depths of my heart. It’s almost as if I’ve been possessed by a dark entity. But whatever it is, it feels freaking amazing.
I stare at the Jacob look-alike, who sits dead against the wall. I tore his throat open with my fangs and must have broken his neck as well, because his head rests awkwardly on his shoulder. The fucker was drunk, I think. I can feel alcohol coursing through my veins, contaminating my blood. It numbs my senses, just a little bit. Not enough to stop whatever monster is in my head from guiding me into more chaos, though.
I tried so hard not to snap. I’ve been fighting it for so long. But it doesn’t matter anymore. It only took me thinking that I’d lost my brother to lose control. Who would have thought? After all these years watching Damien get away with all kinds of shit, him getting a proper hot-as-hell boyfriend was what sent me over the edge.
I laugh at the irony of it all.
How ridiculous, Killien. You’re fucking pathetic.
Fine. I can live with being pathetic, I guess. It’s what I’ve always been deep down, isn’t it? I hung on to my little brother like a leech, living and breathing and existing only for him. Even before we ran away from home, Damien was my whole world. And for the past six years, I’ve been doing everything to please him.
I worked hard to keep a roof over his head and food on his table. I took a second shitty job just to save up for his dream car, because he wouldn’t shut up about it. I wouldn’t even know why he likes it so much—never asked for a reason either.
Honestly, I’m not even interested in material things or loud car engines. Still, I got it for him nonetheless. The smile on his face when he saw me show up with the black 2013 Jeep Grand Cherokee was enough to make it all worth it. Although I could only afford a ten-year-old model, he jumped onto my arms and kissed my cheeks over and over again. As if I’d made one of his dreams come true. That alone was more than enough reward for my hard work.
