Page 70 of Remi's War (Four Dark Horsemen 2)

During my stay at the hospital and mansion, I thought I got better. I functioned normally around all the other dark protégés, although it wasn’t that difficult, since they always gave me space and never spoke with me much anyway.

As one of them told me, they all had their own demons.

Demons have a tendency to appear, though, and hurt the innocent people who least deserve it.

I could never allow my past or demons to destroy the one thing I value most: my north star that kept me alive all these years.

My twin, the other half of my soul… the better half who probably doesn’t even need me or know of my existence. Based on the reports, Asher legally adopted her and even added another name to hers. As if he wanted to erase me from her life completely.

Familiar burning anger replaced my sorrow, sliding through my veins and filling me with the fury that begged me to set this place aflame and demand vengeance for the injustice done to me.

That was why I backed away, and Arson didn’t say a word as we got back inside the car and drove to the airport, while I fisted my hands and kept my urges at bay until we could get to New York.

Far, far away from my twin.

I barely remember the plane ride or how I sat numbly in my seat, ignoring the food and drinks while counting down the minutes to my arrival.

Because something dark inside me snapped, something holding me back from acting on the growing instincts inside me, and the monster living in my soul wanted blood.

Maybe that was my destiny all along.

Once we were in New York, I asked Arson to leave me at the park, and to my astonishment he didn’t object.

When I realized no one tailed me, I sat on the bench and counted an indefinite amount of numbers, still resisting the call while clenching the knife I managed to slip into my pocket on the plane to my chest.

My heart cracked, filling with pain and agony that knew no mercy and wanted to hurt someone in return.

Mostly the monster who tarnished my flesh so much I could no longer function properly in society and build a relationship with my twin.

The longer I rocked on the bench to weird glances from people passing by, the angrier I became at all the people who failed me in this life.

Uncle Asher, who didn’t fight for me and let Beatrice have me.

Beatrice, for selling me to the highest bidder so she could have her peace.

Jonathan, who raped me over and over again and then put me in an asylum.

Elijah.

All the people who worked there, abusing my flesh time and time again, treating me like dirt under their nails and not a human being.

Internal screams filled my head, bringing back all the flashbacks of Jonathan’s looming image with his sadistic whispers.

“Smile, Amalia. Smile for me and enjoy what I’m doing.”

The knife in my hand dug deep into my palm, drawing blood, but I barely comprehended the sting or my movements.

Only pain kept me grounded in the present and didn’t allow me to fall down the rabbit hole called insanity.

And then it happened.

A male voice in the present spoke to me, sounding almost similar to Jonathan in tone while the strong smell of alcohol filled the air. “Hey, baby girl. Are you all right?” My eyes focused on his scuffed boots as he took a step closer, and I breathed heavily, his nearness serving as gasoline to the fire ready to blow at any second. “A girl like you should smile. Not cry in the park. Smile,” he said and then patted me on the shoulder, and that was my breaking point.

Where my life would become divided by before and after.

Slowly lifting my gaze to him, I saw Jonathan close to me and felt like a helpless little girl who couldn’t do anything.

Only it wasn’t true, right?

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