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“I promise,” I murmur. “We have a deal.”
“From Ethan too.”
My brows furrow. I thought she was confused earlier when she said it was Ethan. It makes no sense whatsoever. Why would he try to kill her? I kiss her forehead, feeling the need to have my lips against her skin again.
“It wasn’t Ethan, my love.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I can promise you I know him well enough to tell you he wouldn’t hurt you.”
But still, if she feels that way, she has a reason.
I need to talk to my brother.
19
ETHAN
Loser - Sueco
I know my moment of peace is over the second Elliot knocks on my door and opens it before I can even allow him to come in or not.
If he was a normal person, and not a motherfucking extreme manipulator, he would have let his anger out, burst through the doors, and punched me in the face. We would have beaten each other up like Kings do and put the issue to rest.
Although I don’t think our specific four-year-and-counting issue can just beput to rest.
My music is off, and I don’t need to lie to him. He knows it’s because I was eavesdropping.
That’s why he made her scream his name.
I stay sitting at my desk chair. It’s full of music sheets, some I just started, some crumbled, some ripped to pieces. My amp is right next to my chair, my guitar and headphones plugged into it. I have a mini keyboard on my desk, right next to my shitty laptop I use to edit my music.
Elliot looks around, observing calmly, like he’ll learn something about me. The room is a fucking mess, but he forgets because he never comes in here. Clothes are scattered everywhere on the floor, my bed unmade. I’ve stopped counting the glasses I need to bring back to the kitchen. He closes the door behind him and uses his cheery voice when he talks to me. Like a pitbull pretending to be a golden retriever.
“You seriously need to tidy your room, brother. Maybe then you’ll feel more at ease to bring girls here.”
He stops by my old stereo. His dad had gifted it to me when I joined the Kings. I remember how fucking happy I felt. I spent all my money on CDs I could blast.
For the first time in my life, the voices in my head decided to shut up. They’re not always clear, just calling me to do bad things. When the music screams around me, it stops the screeching in my head.
I thought the gift was for me. It wasn’t. The reality was that it wasn’t to quiet my inner cries. It was so I couldn’t hear Elliot’s screams in the basement when his dad would beat the shit out of him.
Many kids who have to live around unpredictable parents learn to manipulate behaviors. And God fucking knows how unpredictable Elliot’s dad was. No wonder the man has no pity for others’ souls. It’s safer for him to create the personalities he wants around him, rather than take the risk of them being a disappointment. Or worse, a danger.
Elliot Pearson only feels safe when he can control everything around him. He enjoys playing with people’s minds the same way I enjoy playing the guitar. His calculating behaviors don’t stop for the ones he loves. One doesn’t just let go of a passion; they keep falling more into the addiction every time.
And as much as I would like it to be, I’m no fucking exception.
As long as Elliot keeps control over me, he’ll feel safe. No one wants to be around when he doesn’t feel safe anymore.
He presses the ON button with the tip of his index finger. The plastic makes a strange noise before music blasts out of the speakers.“KULT”by grandson inundates the room, bouncing against the wall and making my desk shake.
Still, he turns it up, smiling at me innocently.
The way my jaw tightens nearly gives me a headache. At least I can focus. I’ve been sitting in a silent room for hours, waiting for Jade to wake up, listening to my brother drilling into my ex-girlfriend’s mind that she’s his fuck toy again. Listening to her moan his name.
The screaming in my head only had one word for me:kill. Kill. Kill.On repeat, like a prayer from the devil.
