Page 149 of Phobia
“I do mind,” I gritted out, still holding Danika in the same spot. “I’ll come to the house when I’m ready.”
“But,” he grinned, “that’s not how our arrangement works, Lazarus. When I call, you run. It’s as simple as that.”
It wasn’t as simple as that and the little fucker knew it. His eyes stayed too long on Danika, tracing over her naked body with a look I didn’t quite appreciate. Judah Blackwood was a sick fuck, too sure in himself and the power his family wielded in this town to back down.
He wanted her last year and he wanted her now, regardless of the sick little relationship he had with his sister. Most of the people in town had no idea that she even existed because their parents kept her separate from all the bullshit that happened here, but we knew. Gabriel and I were the first ones to ask him about it when we saw the similarities between the two. Judah simply grinned and said, “We have to keep it in the family,” and shrugged his shoulders.
In all honesty, it was none of my business who fucked who, and I didn’t care. What I cared about was the fact that he kept staring atmygirl.
“Judah,” I warned, the violent intentions evident in my voice. “I will come back when I want to come back.” I looked at him as the words spilled over my lips. “Don’t forget that I know things you wouldn’t want to come out either.”
His face lost the smug look, turning pale the moment those words came between us.
He thought he had something on me, when, in reality, I couldn’t give a fuck about the fact that he knew my father was dead and not simply missing. I allowed him to think that he controlled me, but the ball was in my court, not in his, and he obviously forgot about that.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” I pointed out. “We’re busy and I don’t exactly want to have any spectators.”
Danika giggled in my arms, hiding her face from Judah. And just like the petulant man-child that he was, he stomped his feet and turned around, disappearing from our view. I would deal with him later, but now… now, I had more important business to attend to.
Chapter 12
Every single muscle in my body ached. Hell, even my eyeballs were sore, and I was pretty sure that we did nothing with them.
The star-covered sky loomed above us as we lay in the darkness, our clothes scattered around us, both of us still trying to catch our breath after the third round of mind-blowing sex. My heart was branded with his name, my skin with his scent, and while he held my hand in his, his thumb slowly creating circles on the top of my hand, something I had never felt before settled deep inside my bones.
Peace.
I finally felt at peace.
“You know…” I broke the comfortable silence first. “When I was a child, I would lie on the grass behind my house, looking at the sky and imagining what it would feel like to be free. Completely and utterly free.” I lifted myself up on one elbow and looked down at him, at the mark I left on his chest. “And every time a teacher would ask us what we wanted to be when we grew up, I said that I wanted to be a bird.”
“A bird?” He chuckled. “Because you felt caged.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement, and it amazed me how well he understood what I was trying to say.
“I had no idea I was caged until last year. Until you opened my eyes.”
“I had a very small part in that, baby. You were already well on your way on your own. I just sped up the process.”
“I know.” I nodded. “But still. My mother lied to me. My father… Hell, I don’t even know where he is anymore, but he left me—with her. She could never understand me and everything I was capable of.”
He simply listened as I spoke, telling him about my childhood, the screaming, the tears, the days and nights when I wanted to simply disappear because I couldn’t fit in with anyone after that accident, and I couldn’t understand what was wrong with me.
It wasn’t as if I could go to high school somewhere else, in some other town. My mother refused to move even after I begged her, telling her about the kids making fun of me in school and mocking my memory loss.
The ones that knew me before the accident steered clear of me, remembering the Danika I used to be.
Everyone would always tell you that they were a good child, a calm child, well-mannered and well behaved, but I wasn’t. I didn’t care about them as individuals—I cared about their insides. I wondered what their blood looked like. I wanted to know if it was bright red like they showed in the movies, or dark like this very night. I wondered what their hearts looked like when they slowed down, and if they would continue beating in the same way when they gasped for breath.
I knew that society regarded me as a monster, and maybe I was one. But I was simply a curious child that couldn’t find support in anyone. My parents feared me. My teachers feared me. My peers stayed away from me after I asked Marissa Delaney if her blood tasted sweet or bitter after she cut herself on the swing, right on top of her forefinger.
They ran from me, screaming and crying for the teacher, when I asked her a very simple question. It wasn’t as if I was the one who cut her.
But that day was the first time I saw fear in my mother’s eyes. That day was the trigger for countless visits to psychiatrists and weird communes that dealt with people like me. As if they needed to deal with people like me.
They just had to let us go.
“I found your old folder in my father’s study,” Lazarus said, turning toward me.
“And?” I smiled, tracing my finger over the stubble on his cheek. “Was I a monster there too?”
