by Mason, V. F.
“What?” I ask in confusion, momentarily stunned with her brown pools that seem to host thousands of secrets.
Why do they look so familiar? Why is this insanity and feeling of overpowering doom not going away?
“To welcome me to this town and convince me to come to church every Sunday?” she probes, and then it dawns on me that my presence has no other logical explanation for her.
Clearing my throat, I nod. “Yes. My name is Father Eachann Campbell.” I extend my hand to her. “I wanted to officially welcome you to town.” Since my hand still hangs between us with her not moving an inch, I elaborate. “This house used to belong to people I once knew. For a moment, I thought maybe one of them came back.” It physically hurts to keep the agony out of my words; I almost sound like I miss some old friends despite the horrific things that has happened here.
But then again, Cassandra Scott doesn’t know the whole story, so this lie is believable enough.
The irony of this situation is not lost on me, but I’ve long accepted that I’m going straight to hell one day and not heaven.
Not all priests are good guys destined to guide others and have peace above.
Some of us are like fallen angels, destined to forever atone for our sins among mortals who, despite all our efforts, still end up in hell.
Finally, she takes my hand in hers, squeezing it lightly, and I’m momentarily stunned by the powerful force traveling through my entire system, awakening even more old memories that pounce on me wherever I go.
Look here, Eachann.
Dropping her hand as if it burns me, I hook my thumb in my pockets while she continues to stare at me warily.
My God, she probably thinks the local priest is a weird psycho. “Laura told me about the story of this house. I’m sorry for your loss.” A beat passes before she asks, “Was it someone special?”
Special.
What a small word for what Arianna Griffin had been for me.
What she still is for me.
A mesmerizing ghost that haunts me every single day of my life, reminding me of the crimes I’ve committed.
“Everyone is special for me.”
She huffs in amusement but somehow it comes as mocking. I don’t have time to focus on it though, because she spins in the direction of the house and announces, “Nice to meet you, Father. But I have a thing I need to do, so….” She trails off but the hint is clear.
She wants the weirdo priest off her property.
“We have mass tomorrow.” She glances at me over her shoulder. “You should come. Everyone will be there.” If she wants to live here—God knows why, since it’s in the middle of nowhere—she has to come.
To survive in this town, you have to have friends among the founding five; otherwise, you’ll be the lowest of low.
And for now, she is interesting enough for them, but if she refuses to come to church…
She’ll become an enemy, and as odd as it sounds, I don’t want this newcomer to feel hostility from those I grew up with.
Even if she took away the only salvation I have left in this hell.
She waves her hands at me, hooking the strands of her hair behind her ear. “Oh no worries about that. I’ll be there.” Then she grins, almost blinding me with the beauty of it, yet something seems off about it. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Good” is all I say and then nod at her again, pointing at my vehicle. “I’m going to go now. I’m sorry for earlier. It won’t happen again.” Because I won’t be coming back here.
This house makes me act like a lunatic, awakening something dark and intense within me… and it has no place behind my careful façade the world sees.
“Have a nice day, Father.”
My brows furrow at the displeasure it brings, because I want to hear my name on her lips, but those thoughts are so out of line and sinful for a priest I don’t even dare examine them.
Turning away from her as she watches me, I go as fast as possible and hop into the car, starting it quickly.
Coming here was a mistake.
And somehow, after meeting this newcomer, I feel even more of a sinner than before.
Maybe because for the first time since Arianna Griffin, my heart beats so wildly I’m afraid it’ll break my ribs.
All because of a woman with hollow brown eyes.
Cassandra
When I hear the engine running and the car driving off into the distance, I sink to my knees, hitting the grass-covered earth painfully, and gulp for breath.
But no matter how much air I try to get into my lungs, it’s not enough to breathe freely through the spasm clenching my chest so firmly I’m afraid I will suffocate to death.
My hands tremble when I wipe them, hating his touch as it burns my skin and stakes claims that should never be there. Forever coating me in his scent that no soap can erase and staining me with his darkness.
Perspiration coats my skin, and the breeze swirling around me brings no relief, but instead the emotions clawing inside me demand an outlet and I palm my head, the throbbing there so profound I’m afraid to move.
Part of me detests myself for this weakness—I can still be affected by his presence after all these years—but the other part welcomes it, as the vulnerability gives space for even greater revenge.
Because no matter what I dish at him, it will never be enough.
Could never be enough.
Father Eachann.
Back when I knew him though, he was just Eachann, the sweetest boy in town.
The sweetest boy who fed me to the wolves and betrayed my trust.
Madman
Pouring myself a glass of whiskey, I lean back on the balcony and turn on the recording of the surveillance camera at Cassandra’s house.
The things you can hide in those endless bushes without the owner knowing.
Chuckling, I take a greedy sip and watch how Eachann rushes forward as if he saw a ghost.
In a way, he probably did, but ah, pleasure spreads through me when I see the disappointment marring his face. But when a conflicted emotion is reflected from him, I snarl in distaste and sip my whiskey, which tastes bitter in my mouth.
A saint, a priest, the person everyone respects… having such inappropriate thoughts about a woman. Where are his sermons now? The judgment for dark desires? The self-righteous belief in greater things that rule our lives?
Where are his fucking miracles that he likes to speak of so much during his Sunday masses?
But more importantly, where is God when he needs him so much?
First love has the power to rule us even if it once destroyed us.
Humans are such weird creatures. They come back to those who hurt them just to experience one more time that feeling of happiness or atonement.
But in this world, happiness and atonement don’t exist; they are a myth created by God to make us believe and stay good.
Truth?
Your soul becomes rotten regardless, once you step on the dangerous path or betray a trust. No amount of praying will erase your sins that cling to you like a second skin, forever enveloping you in their twisted web.
Sins all three of us committed.
Sins that forever connect us with a bond no one and nothing will ever break.
Cassandra came here to destroy the seven people who, on that rainy night ten years ago, ended Arianna’s life.
She came for vengeance; of that, I have no doubt.
And I know who is on top of that list, and unfortunately for her… she will lose in her revenge.
Because as much as I hate the priest, I can never allow her to kill him.
The time has come to meet Cassandra.
Grabbing my jacket and keys, I march to the door, ready to follow the tracker in her car, which indicates she is going to the studio on the outskirts of the city.
May the dangerous game begin.
The first one to fall will be the first one to lose.
Chapter Six
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��Pain gives us the ability to grow stronger from experience and allows the world to see our vulnerability. For we are human and shouldn’t hide from getting hurt, if it’s inevitable.”
Pastor George’s advice sometimes pops in my head, usually when I think back on the things that have happened in this town.
But if my pain was inevitable… so will be theirs.
From the memories of Arianna Griffin…
Guys suck.
At least that’s the only thought on my mind when I emerge from class, students breathing down my back while I try to catch sight of Eachann, who practically disappears into thin air.
How can he move so fast? He only had the advantage of a few steps! Especially after the question he had asked me! Isn’t he curious about my answer?
Guys suck.
But somehow repeating this phrase in my head doesn’t help me one bit and I’m even more obsessed with catching him.
“Hey, Griffin!” a familiar voice shouts, but I don’t stop, continuing to push through various bodies, seeing the top of Eachann’s head in the distance, almost by the main door, but I can’t reach him since it was the last class of the day and the reason why it’s so busy in the hallway.
Everyone is desperate to go out or home, or just enjoy this beautiful summer day.
Everyone but me, because a different kind of desperation clouds my brain and fuels my determination.
“Griffin!” the annoying voice repeats.
I snap over my shoulder, “I have a name, you know.” Then I speed up my pace, fully intending to catch my crush, even if it sounds stalkery and insane.
He owes me an answer, damn him!
If he wanted to invite me to homecoming or still does, I’ll go with him in a heartbeat. Ethan’s face comes to mind, along with guilt, but it quickly vanishes when I remember he kissed Samantha last night.
He won’t be heartbroken and will find a replacement quickly. I still don’t get why he asked me out in the first place.
We’ve literary had zero contact since middle school when we were assigned to a project together and he didn’t do shit the entire time, because our teacher Mrs. Lora’s husband worked for his father in the factory.
We all got As though, so I can’t complain too much.
“Okay, Arianna!” Cole finally catches up with me, almost running next to me and breathing heavily as he adjusts his backpack. “Geez, girl, is your ass on fire?” he asks and then slaps my arms, laughing loudly. Is life so hilarious to this guy? “So, Arianna, since we are friends and all.” The hell? “I’m inviting you to my birthday tonight, my place.”
“Umm… thanks,” I reply, because quite frankly I’m not sure what else to say.
What freaking friends?
Waving off that thought, I wiggle between two jocks who block the entrance and almost shout a “Hallelujah” when my hand wraps around the handle, but then I’m snatched back by my elbow with Cole spinning me to face him.
“So you’ll be there, right?” he asks again while I twist my arm, trying to get it free, but he has a surprisingly strong grip. “Arianna?”
Huffing in annoyance, I see that Eachann is out of my vision now, so finding him will be impossible.
Because once he enters the gates of his mansion or favorite church, he is unreachable. Especially for the likes of me, who have no access to the founding five’s lands even if my parents work for the Campbells.
“Let go of me,” I bark, taking my arm from him, and he frowns, glancing at his hand. His cheeks heat up and he smiles sheepishly.
“Sorry about that. I just wanted to make sure you’ll come.”
“I have practice today, so it’s a no.” I could have probably swung by his place after it, but I don’t feel particularly good about him now.
Mom would have told me to be gracious and kind to those who seek us out, but kindness has brought me nowhere so far, so why the hell not try being rude?
Besides, it’s fishy as hell to go to his house when I don’t normally hang out with the guy, even if the population of this town is so small everyone knows everyone one way or the other.
He pouts, batting his eyelashes at me, and begs, “Pretty please? We’ll have fun!”
“Cole, we aren’t even friends,” I remind him, and it earns me a frown as he rubs his chin.
“Yes, we are.”
Exhaling heavily, I kick the door in front of me, emerging outside and inhaling the fresh air. It’s such a relief after all the sweat-coated air inside the building, left there by the football team who always gets dibs on racing from their classes.
Glancing from side to side, I search for Patricia, who is my ride today because my car broke down this the morning, but Cole doesn’t let the subject go. “I always say hi to you and we’ve always gone to the same schools. Not to mention that our moms go to the same gardening club.”
Is he serious right now?
“Cole, look around.” I twirl my finger in a circle. “Everyone here goes to the same schools.”
He wiggles his brows at me. “But not everyone’s moms go to the same club, huh?” He nudges my arm, and I open my mouth to reply to this idiotic statement when roaring fills the air, penetrating through all the other noises. Everyone’s head swings to the motorcycle rolling into the school parking lot, the black machine glistening brightly in the sun.
The rider parks and removes the helmet then shakes his hair free and gathers it up into a messy bun, leaving a few strands loose.
Throwing his leg over the side, he hops off in all his handsome, darkish glory, and I hear a few girls sigh in admiration as they trail their gazes over his muscled physique wrapped in stonewashed jeans and a white T-shirt, which emphasize his tanned skin and dark hair.
Both his arms are covered in full-sleeve tattoos that end just slightly above his wrists. He hangs his leather jacket on the handlebars before he walks in the direction of the doors, his heavy leather boots thumping on the sidewalk as everyone watches him in awe.
Not giving a shit about anyone, he puts a cigarette in his mouth, flicks the silver lighter with his thumb, and lights it up, exhaling the smoke through his nose.
The bad boy of the town has arrived.
Eudard “Madman” Campbell.
An heir to the Campbell fortune and Eachann’s twin, although they couldn’t have been more different if they tried, despite their identical features.
Where one is an angel sent by God to bring goodness to this earth… the other one is the demon sent by the devil himself to bring chaos and destruction to whomever he sees fit.
Their mom clearly had a thing for old Gaelic names when she picked theirs, because I used to almost break my tongue trying to pronounce them as a kid.
“He’s back,” Cole murmurs, sighing heavily, and then salutes me. “Nice knowing you, kid.” Then he leans forward, whispering into my ear. “Come to the party. Eachann will be there.”
“What?” But he is already rushing to his car, away from the oncoming fury that the older twin represents as everyone spreads out, giving him enough space.
Everyone knows what happens if one crosses him, and it’s not pretty.
Cole is one of the people who can confirm it, since Eudard taught him a lesson he’ll never forget.
I shudder from the memory, but in the exact moment he passes by me, his shoulder pushes mine and I stumble back a little, my books falling to the ground with loud thuds in an otherwise silent space.
While on most days I would’ve let it slide and let him be, because my peace of mind is more important than a confrontation with a guy who listens to no one, in this moment, anger still fuels my blood, so the word is out of my mouth before I can think about it or stop it.
“Careful,” I grit through my teeth.
One of the girls gasps, and I see a guy from my biology class hanging his jaw open, shocked at my audacity.
Eudard stops a few feet away from me—at least that’s what his shadow indicates—and he freezes while everyone freaking watc
hes, probably awaiting his verdict.
After all, no one tells him what to do, but screw that.
I don’t feel like keeping my mouth shut. Why I choose this day to go against him is beyond me, but maybe I’m fed up with the Campbell boys and their mood swings.
Or founding five privileges as a whole.
“What did you say?” he asks, his deep and husky voice sliding over me like a leather belt ready to strike me. The hair on the back of my neck stands, but I make no move to step away.
Licking my dry lips, I fist my hands and repeat, “Careful.” Then, willing all the courage my body possesses, I add, “If you push someone, you need to apologize.”
I can almost imagine a sinister smile pulling at his mouth with his green eyes staying cold and indifferent. “Do I?” He steps closer, his breath now fanning my cheek when he shifts a little, but I still have my back to him. “Since when does a Griffin tell a Campbell what to do?”
I half turn to him, meeting his stare head-on and raising my chin high. “Since a Campbell acts like an ass.” For a second, surprise and something akin to… amusement?… flashes in his eyes, but it’s quickly replaced with familiar coldness.
Even if they are twins, his green pools don’t remind me of my beloved ice, oh no. They remind me more of a snake’s eyes that watch its prey carefully before the reptile strikes to inject venom into its helpless victim.
And his presence creates a suffocating reality around me where it seems like clouds gather above me, pouring heavy rain on my skin that washes me away and smears me in his darkness.
“Oh my God, she called him an ass,” someone whispers, but in the silence around us, it might as well have been a scream.
Eudard raises his hand and, before I can even blink, traps my chin between his thumb and index finger, digging them in harshly.
I jerk my head to the side, but his hold doesn’t allow me to move. Leaning closer, so much that the smoke of his cigarette envelops us in a haze, he murmurs, “I’m sorry.” A tremor rushes through me, and I hate him for it, because this kind of emotion has no logical explanation.