Page 42 of The Magic of Betrayal
"Fucking hell, that woman... I have no words." I smiled like a damn nerd, but I was blaming the sex filled state my brain was still stuck in.
Sloane's phone started buzzing across the coffee table, and I saw the screen before he snatched it and ignored the call. 7th Circle Penitentiary. His fucking dad.
"Has he been calling often?" I asked gently, it was a sore subject and one that needed to be handled delicately.
"Every other day or so." He shrugged and continued reading, pretending it didn't fuck him up on the inside any time he had to think of that piece of shit, but I knew better.
"What do you think he wants?" I asked, not really expecting a response.
A few moments passed and Sloane laid the book down on his chest, finally looking at me. "Fuck if I know. I haven't spoken to him in probably ten years."
I nodded, because I remembered the last time he'd spoken to his dad. After we'd graduated our training program, his dad had reached out to him for the first time since he'd been locked up. Sloane didn't recognize the phone number when he answered the phone and that's all the in that fucker needed to get inside his head. Sloane told his dad about how he was in the top ten percent of his training class and all his dad had to say was 'I knew you didn't have what it took to be at the top'.
The guy was absolutely toxic and anything he'd want to say to Sloane would just be with the intentions of ripping him to shreds. There had been far too many nights when we were kids that Sloane would show up knocking on my bedroom window and I'd pull him inside and clean up his wounds.
Faint tapping had me turning my head away from the cooking show I'd been watching in my room. Sloane's face flashed in the window and I scrambled over to let him in; he could climb the tree easily enough to get up here, but if he fell, that would have hurt like hell.
"Hey, what's up, are you alright?" I asked as I gave him a hand so he could step inside my room. His black hood was up over his head but I saw his shoulders shake and my gut twisted because I knew what his face would look like when he took his hood down.
"Sloane, hey, it's okay. You're safe here, let me see, man." I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder and he hissed in pain. I pulled my hand back so quickly, you would've thought I'd burned it.
Snagging his hand, I pulled him into my bathroom, putting the toilet seat down and directing him to sit. Pushing back the hood, I schooled my features and kept my face blank. My poor friend. His bottom lip was busted, as was his left eyebrow, and dried blood streaked down his face. His eyes were focused on the floor and I knew he was embarrassed, but he shouldn't have been. His dad was an asshole, and he was a big dude. We were still just kids, our affinities not even awoken yet. Well, besides Cam, but he was the oldest of us. Lucky bastard.
Pulling out the first aid kit, I started patching him up. I'd done this so many times now, it was just second nature, but there was something different this time. There was something swirling inside of me that felt like a scratching against whatever it was inside of my head that made me, me. Dismissing that, because that sounded absolutely insane, I cracked an instant ice pack and handed it to him to put on his face.
"How bad is the rest, Sloane?" I asked softly, the need to protect my best friend was almost suffocating. I’d always looked out for my friends, but this felt different, stronger, hungrier.
"Why can't I just fight back, K? I freeze like a little bitch every fucking time and the beatings are getting worse. He will kill me one day." His voice trailed off and his ice blue eyes glistened as he looked at me with fresh tears in his eyes and anger flared through my veins. I’d never wanted to kill anyone as much as I’d wanted to kill Sloane’s father.
"It's not your fault. He's your dad, he's not supposed to do this. I'm so sorry, Sloane. When we get our powers, we can fight back. You won't be defenseless anymore," I promised as he unzipped his hoodie and dropped it onto the floor.
"By the stars, Sloane." My eyes pricked with tears because I couldn't process the state my best friend was in. There were cuts, but mostly just huge patches of bruising. Purples, blacks, greens, yellows. Not all of these were new, he was getting beaten daily.
"It really hurts here," he pointed to a spot on his side where his ribs were. They were probably broken.
Swallowing a growl I hadn’t known I was capable of, I bit out, "Let me grab an ace bandage and wrap your ribs, okay? It'll help."
Ugh, my headache was escalating, and I never got headaches. My skin felt itchy and tight.I'm probably just disgusted by what Sloane lives with across the street.It was absolutely unacceptable, but my parents had already called CPS, and so had the school, and so had Fish and Cam's parents. Nothing ever changed. He was stuck in that house with that monster, and since Mr. Sullivan was also Sheriff Sullivan, it wasn’t likely to change any time soon.
He stood when I approached with the wrap, holding his arms above his head with a wince.
"I'm going to kill him one day, Kaito. With the stars as my witness, I swear it. He will pay for what he's put me through, what he puts Mom through," he vowed, and I finished wrapping him up.
"I'll help you. One day, we'll be the toughest assholes around and everybody will fear us, and you'll be the scariest of them all. You already have an excellent scowl, at least Olivia thinks so." I winked at him and he pushed me playfully. "Come on, you can stay over, my parents are at some party with Fish's parents tonight, and the girls are at a sleepover. We can stay up late and sleep 'til noon tomorrow."
"Kai... thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you. I love you," Sloane declared, and when I turned back to face him, he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me fiercely. Sloane Sullivan didn't hug, or do feelings, so he must have been really off his game tonight.
"Love you too, Sloaney Baloney." I chuckled and he shook his head in fake annoyance. He claimed to hate that nickname, but I knew that was bullshit. He fucking loved it.
I stumbled on my way to my bed, pain flaring up my spine, making me cry out.
"K? What's wrong? Did you stub your toe or something?" Sloane's concerned voice came from behind me, and his fingers rubbed nervously over the rough denim of his jeans, his heartbeat increasing with each passing second. "Are you okay?"
The scratchy feeling intensified to an unbearable feeling, and I fell to my knees and rolled onto my back.
Sloane's face came into view. "Holy fuck, K. Your eyes. They're... yellow."
That was the first time I shifted. I still think it was the emotional reaction to seeing the full extent of damage that had been done to my best friend's body, him telling me how much I meant to him, the two of us swearing to one day kill his deadbeat dad... the perfect storm. The first shift was excruciating, and Sloane held me, soothed me.
