Page 263 of Satan's Spawn

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I pull her inside the room and slam the door, giving her my back as I storm over to my bed.

“What the hell happened here?” Rebecca drops her bag on my desk, taking in the mess.

I turn and hold out the knife, feeling my eyes bulging out of my head.

Rebecca’s aren’t much different. “What the hell?” She rushes over to pluck it from my hand, then looks it over exactly how I did two minutes ago. “Is this really it?”

“It fucking is.”

She still can’t take her gaze off the knife. “Where the hell did you find it?”

“Under here.” I switch to kicking the bed, scraping it deeper into the room.

“It was in your room the whole time?”

“Looks fucking like it.”

She reaches for my arm. “This is good, though. You got your knife back.”

I whip around. “And look at all the shit that went down because of it.”

I created another enemy by challenging the scorned Bratva princess, and there’s no way to know if Alexis’ disappearance has something to do with me.

If her father’s next move is to punish me.

Or worse, Rebecca.

All because of a mediocre pussy.

All because of a fucking knife.

The idea of it all has me cursing myself for the hundredth time since I found it. And suddenly I have no desire to even touch the fucking thing.

If I told Alexis to go fuck herself from the beginning, leave her for some chump to deal with, I’d never be where I am, and Rebecca wouldn’t either.

I don’t realize my hands are shaking until Rebecca squeezes one to stop it.

“Crayton,” she calls out for me as if I’m several feet away. “Alexis has been gone for weeks. Who knows if she’s even coming back.” I finally find it in me to look at her, and her entire body is pleading with me. “Let’s not ruin a good thing between us over what happened almost a month ago.”

Dragging in a deep breath, I shake off my anger and snag the knife from her, tossing it in a drawer.

“You’re not gonna take the knife with us?” Rebecca asks cautiously.

“Fuck no, I’m done with it.”

Rebecca’s mouth gapes, at a loss for words.

But I’m not.

Spending time apart from the knife has allowed me the time to realize the dependency on it had nothing to do with punishing other people.

And everything to do with punishing myself.

This weapon represents a life I’ve been trying to move on from to build something decent with a girl who deserves a fuck ton more than decency. I can’t do that living in the past, so I decide that’s exactly where I’ll keep it.

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BEX