Page 148 of Crave
From them.
Behind me, a door slammed open so hard the walls rattled. Theo’s roar of fury cut through the night, a violent, jagged sound that sent a shudder through my entire body.
“Where thefuckisoursister?!”
My breath hitched. My pulse skipped, then lunged. His voice wasn’t just rage now—it was desperation.
I stumbled around the corner, my body moving on instinct, my vision swimming with memories and shadows.
“ANGEL!”
I pressed a hand to my chest, holding in my heart as it slammed against my ribs like it wanted to escape me. But I had to keep moving.
The whispers grew louder.
Tell them the truth, Angel.
Tell them what you did.
Tears pricked at my eyes as I ran, blurring the thick brush that surrounded the compound of our house. I crashed through the branches, my breath raw in my throat.
Pick it up, Angel. You know how to use it.
The gun. Thegoddamngun. It sat there, waiting on the edge of the desk, gleaming beneath the dim light.
Behind it, my father and mother—bound. Gagged. Pleading.
I tried to fight then, just as I tried to fight now.
Pick it up.
The dark whisper slid inside my skull, curling around my mind like a lover’s fingers. My breath came in quick, shattered gasps.
Pick. It. Up.
I let out a shaking breath, my body convulsing as I tore through the brush, desperate to disappear. Desperate to become nothing.
The harder I ran, the colder the night air became. But it wasn’t enough. The whispers didn’t stop. The memories didn’t stop.
Blood streamed down my father’s face. His wide, desperate eyes locked onto mine, his head shaking violently as he pleaded with me, his screams trapped behind the gag.
The gun was in my hand before I even knew it. Heavy. Cold. Unfeeling.
Just like I was.
You know what to do.
That voice wasn’t just a whisper anymore. It was a command, a kiss against my ear soaked in sin.
You know exactly what to do.
The past and the present blurred, twisting into a single moment of terror.
And then, he screamed.
Please, remember!
Dante Ares. My father. The ruthless man who built an empire. The man who never pleaded for anything in his life—except this.
