Page 82 of Boy of Ruin
I hear Ria and Nicolas, see them slip through the stream of the waterfall, Nicolas’s eyes darting from Sid to me, then down to the water where fuckboy is gonna die.
“Oh my God,” Ria whispers, splashing over toward me. “Oh my God, Jeremiah, you can’t—”
“Shouldn’t have fucked with me, baby,” I tell Sid, my eyes back on hers, “his death is going to be your fault.”
Ria grabs my arm, trying to haul me off of him.
“You wanna get hurt too?” I snarl at her, my eyes on hers.
She glares at me, nails digging into my biceps. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite.”
Her words are full of venom, and Sid is calling her name, Nicolas is on my other side, trying to grab my other arm, but my gaze is locked on Ria’s. “He touched her arm, but you assaulted Sid!” She releases me, smacking her fist into the water, cold spray dousing my face. “You assaulted her and you drugged me! What the fuck were you thinking?” She’s screaming now, and I think everyone here will be able to hear her. “What the fuck were you thinking that night? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
And as she screams at me, and the guy under my hands stops struggling, I’m right back there.
I’m right back there in that fucking insane asylum.
Where I always needed to be.
Get the girl. Get out. Get the fucking girl. And get out.
Right now, the girl is underneath me. She’s smiling, and he’s tied against a fucking pole, the rope digging into his skin. There’s blood on his thigh, blood on his torso, but he’s not fighting anymore.
His head is leaned back against the beam, his eyes barely open. He’s saying a name, over and over, but he’s fucking insane, because I highly doubt it’s this girl’s fucking name.
“Lilith. Lilith. Lilith.”
The girl has pale makeup on, horns on the floor of the asylum, and I guess that was her costume. And as I part her thighs, one hand on her neck as she drunkenly giggles, biting her lip, it seems fitting.
A demon.
She’s a fucking demon, and with that perfect, bare pussy, I’m going to make her feel hell before I hand her off to Lazar.
Then I’m free.
I’m fucking free.
Thinking of it, of how I won’t have to deal with them, their taunts, the whispers, being so close to the people that made my life a living hell, it feels fucking good.
I almost don’t even want to fuck her.
But she’s so damn compliant.
I lean down close, sucking on her neck as she arches her back. My fingers find her cunt, and she’s fucking soaked for me.
What a good girl.
I scrape my teeth against her throat and she moans, Lucifer fucking Malikov still saying that same name, over and over and over again.
Fucker.
I should kill him too. But if I do, Lazar will never let me go. And if I got put in a cage again… my heart races, thinking about two weeks in there. How two weeks seemed like ten years.
How I cried until I couldn’t anymore.
How I scooped up my own shit, because I was starving and delirious and fucking alone.
How I slept in my own fucking filth.
