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Because my sister and I both had a similar appreciation for Delilah’s assets. Except she’d been more of an ass girl. And fucking Delilah’s tits was what kept me going.
Okay, this was getting creepy.
I snapped the journal shut, frustrated, and feeling a little bit guilty. I’d taken these books from my parent’s house without them knowing, and even though she'd been gone for years, it felt like a huge invasion of her privacy.
I honestly could have gone without knowing that my sister had been in love with a girl whose virginity I took.
To add to everything, I couldn't get her out of my head. Delilah. Aurora. They mixed together. And I couldn't connect in my mind how the girl that melted in my arms at the sight of a cupcake, was the same girl who could've participated in my sister's demise.
Watching those videos of her and the Demon, it felt like they featured a completely different person. I'd start to come up with fantastical ideas like Aurora was actually someone’s twin, and her twin was the one who was the raging psychopath.
Obviously wishful thinking.
I went over what I knew about the Demon. He was like Ted Bundy, handsome and charming, with a voice like silk. He’d lured his victims in, or he'd used Aurora to lure them in.
And then his mask would come off, and the monster inside of him would appear.
I guess when I put it in that context, she'd had years of learning at his hand; it would make sense that she could be two people at once.
Hating her was the hardest thing I'd ever done.
Having here in this place, so close, was like torture. I swore her scent was coming in through the air ducts, or maybe it had just saturated everything in my room that night.
I heard movement outside my door just then, which normally wouldn't have been a big deal, but I’d already gotten up once to find Aurora and Cain engaged in something that was weird even by Cain’s standards. I had a weird feeling. And whoever it was had stopped right outside.
If one of the guys was playing a fucking joke, I was going to murder them.
My door wasn't locked, and just as I stood up to see who it was, I saw the doorknob slowly turning.
It felt a little bit like I’d stepped into a horror movie, where the trembling victim was watching her doorknob turn, and the killer was right outside. Except, in this case, I was the killer…or about to be, because seriously, those assholes were about to die.
Fuck. I needed some sleep.
There was a long silence, until the door opened just a crack, and I could hear the sound of heavy breathing.
So heavy it almost sounded like whoever was standing out there was…terrified.
They obviously should be, if they were trying to come into my room and do something at this time of night…or did this count as morning already? But that fear meant it couldn’t be Pax, Remy, or Cain…because those fuckers weren’t scared of anything.
I was really interested in what was going to happen next.
The door opened in tiny increments, until I could finally see who was standing there.
It washer.
Aurora.
She’d left Cain, then come to me, and that sent a jolt of pleasure and pride warming my chest, before I remembered that I didn’t want her.
She was still wearing a pair of what had to be the tiniest sleep shorts in existence. I was pretty sure that their sole purpose was to ruin me. And her loose white cotton shirt that slid off her bare shoulder wasn’t any better…because it was obvious she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Judging by the fact that I could see her perfect breasts clearly outlined through the shirt.
I shook myself out of my lust fog only to see that she also had something else.
A huge ass butcher’s knife. She was gripping it so hard next to her that her knuckles were white.
What the fuck.
She’d officially lost it.
