“But you still came in.” I remind her as I pick up my clothes and her shirt from the shower floor. The same shirt that she tore to stop me from bleeding.
“Only to find you.” She responds, watching my thick arms as I throw our clothes in the laundry bin, knowing that Frankie will have a field day when he sees Star’s sleep shirt in there. And that’s when I hear her gasp.
“Oh my God.” She breathes.
“Is that. . .?”
Oh, she just figured it out huh.
“You?” I question with a smirk, knowing that I just shocked her into silence.
“Oh my fucking gosh, Ace. That's my face!” She breathes, her voice getting choked up.
“It is.” I say quietly as I turn to look at her from the bathroom. I want to know what she is thinking but at times, Star hides her thoughts and becomes so damn unreadable I don’t even know what to think or where to begin with understanding her.
“Say something.” I bite out, hating the silence that stretches between us.
Instead of saying anything, she kneels on the large bed and I lean on the door frame watching as she turns around and shows me her back, displaying the ink that I saw a glimpse of before, but I never paid attention to it.
My fucking jaw tenses and my heart starts pounding in my fucking chest as the light hits her back, displaying the gorgeous art there.
Right at her waist, there are several dark, colored spots and then there is a broken paintbrush as if an artist left it there, abandoned. Broken. So silent yet loud at the same time. Then there is a flat line, then it becomes jagged then goes flat again as it connects to a heart. It looks like the sign of heartbeats.
That’s Emmett.
Fuck.
Above it, there is a compass, tied to a chain that’s being dragged by a tiny plane. A plane wrapped by a rose, with the petals falling down towards the paint below.
That’s Noah. Too restless. Feels like he doesn’t really know his place. She missed him.
My eyes travel up and I almost groan, my knees growing weak. There is a tattoo of two tiny, baby hands that are entwined, holding on to each other like their lives depend on each other. Right behind is what looks like the lines on an EKG, like the signs of a working heartbeat, almost like Emmett’s tattoo but not really. Below the tattoos are cursive words in blue and black.
Forever, twin turbo.
George.
God, this girl. . .
As if compelled, preparing my damn self for disappointment I look up and my heart stops beating. My breath stutters. My entire body stills as if I’ve just been frozen in time.
Right between her shoulder blades, from the back of her neck, there are two crowns, entwined, with stars dotting the King’s crown and for the queen’s crown, a large ace of spades, that looks like it’s cracking from the center but at the same time, it looks like it’s covering the crown. Her crown.
Holy shit.
“Astraea.”
“You asked if I care.” She starts and I start walking towards her, as if her broken voice is a call that I need to answer. “Those four years, four boys got me through it.”
I reach her and I start tracing my fingers on her back. She shivers.
“They are gorgeous.”
“They are all I had for a while.” She says in a broken whisper and I shut my damn eyes.
I wasn’t there.
When she needed me that night I wasn’t fucking there, when I had promised to protect her. When she was out there in London, I wasn’t there either.
“This is how I see you all. Blue because you are all fucking blue, now turning black without George.” Her voice is hard but I know she won’t cry.
This is Astraea. She sees people for who and what they are. She is probably the only one who feels the aches and pains that Emmett is made up of, instead of his own mother.
She knows Noah and what lies under that playful smirk. Nobody knew George better than Astraea. As for me, well, she sees me as a king and by God, she is the queen of my life and of this fucking world. It’s no wonder why they all envy her. They all want to take her out.
I won’t let that happen. I don’t care what I have to do, I won’t let them destroy her any more.
I’m building an empire for her. Everything I do, is for her.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
“You’re everything baby.” I whisper, reaching down to kiss our tattoo because that’s what it feels like. It feels like ours.
“Yeah well, now you know.” She says as she turns around, and cups my jaw, looking up into my eyes, with a small beautiful smile.
“Now I know.” I echo, kissing her.
We kiss until our heartbeats match and our breathing is in sync again. I try and let her know everything with that kiss but as I pour myself out to her, it soon becomes unbearable as pain threatens to drown me.
How to protect her without hurting her? How?
“Okay go.” She says as she pushes me away because we both know what was about to happen again. We were going to fuck. Again.
I chuckle as I get up from the bed and head to the bathroom silently, my mind racing still.
Heavy is the head. . .
I can feel her watching me so I reach up and tug my hair, flexing my back muscles with a smirk that she can’t see, knowing damn well that she’s salivating right about now. If I were to go over to her right now and touch her, I know I would feel intense need throbbing between her legs. Again.
Hell, I can see the lust in her liquid dark orbs, as her gaze grows heavy, watching me from my bed.
“You’ve always been addicted to me.” I say, enjoying the shivers that move through her, the sheets telling on her.
“You’ve always enjoyed punishing me.” She bites her lip looking up at me, accusation just barely there behind those fucking gorgeous eyes.
Fuck, now I want to fuck her all over again. But then, the moment turns serious as her gaze goes lower to my cuts.
“Where do you go?” She questions, watching me from my bed, covered in my sheets as she looks directly at me.
I know what she’s really asking for. I know she wants to know everything.
“A fighting ring.” I say as I open one of the drawers and reach in for the first aid kit that Frankie always stores in here for me, thanks to Marie of course.
“Do you go there often?” She questions and I close my eyes, thinking of the first time I went there, right after she left. Emmett, Noah and I were just fucking pathetic and restless, getting into more trouble than usual. We were going to end up behind bars the way we were acting, so George talked to Spider and he took us to this underground thing.
It was more for me than anyone else, until George started showing up more and more.
“When the need arises.” I tell her, choosing to give her the Cliff Notes version. I don’t think she’ll want to know that George fought more there the past year, than he ever did before.
“Does it help?”
Does it help with the nightmares, the demons, the memories?
“Sometimes. But not since you’ve been back.” I tell her, watching her move from the corner of my eye. She walks over to my closet and walks in.
I open the first aid kit and start taking out the antibiotic ointment and band aids. Star comes back in the room now wearing one of my basketball shirts with my name on the back.
I watch her silently as she walks into the bathroom, grabs my shoulders and uses me to hike up onto the counter. She grabs the ointment and the cotton pads in her hands, then taps my thigh with her foot.
Wordlessly, I move and stand in between her legs, grabbing her ass in my hands, squeezing and I nuzzle my still wet hair in the crook of her neck and shoulder and she giggles. That sound breaks my walls and it hurts that I haven’t heard it in a long while.
I bring her closer to me and kiss her in between her eyes. She smiles shyly. God, a sensual goddess like her still gets shy when she has my full attention, huh? I like that. I like that a
lot. I kiss her again and then pullback, watching as she starts cleaning my bruises and cuts.
I don’t wince. I don’t make a sound. I just watch her do her thing, my own questions for her brewing in my head. I guess I was thinking too loud because she sighs then, as she applies another band aid to my temple.
“Just ask.”
“Why did you try to overdose and kill yourself?” I question. It’s something that I always wanted to know. I always wanted to find out why she wanted to give up, why she gave in to her demons when I know she is a fighter.
She looks down then, not able to meet my gaze but I chuck her chin, forcing her to look up at me.
“Tell me.”
“That’s not fair. You didn’t answer my questions from before.” She frowns, watching me with a hard look.
“Philip whipped me.” I tell her, hardening my voice.
I try to move away but she wraps her legs around me so tightly, I have no choice but to stay where I am if I don’t want to hurt her, and hurting her is not an option.
“Ace. . .”
“I was having a hard time with life when I came back from Switzerland. Denise was a fucking mess, so she didn’t care. Philip couldn’t have a son with ‘issues’. He would rather get them on the straight and narrow than face reality.” I grit out the story, getting it out of me before I change my mind. I know the look on my face is hard, unyielding and blank at the same time.
“Oh my God.” She breathes, watching me.
“Sometimes he used a belt, other times and especially when I was growing bigger and smarter, he started using a flogger.”
She gasps, covering her mouth with both hands as anger flashes through her eyes. I smirk then, thinking of Star reigning down hell on Philip but then again, I never want Philip to be anywhere near Star.
“That’s why the skin on your back is like that and the tattoo. . .” Her voice breaks as she fingers it out.
“It’s not a big deal, baby. I’m over it.”
She looks up at me then with a look in her eyes, questioning. Are you really?
Not yet. I will though, after I’ve dealt with Philip King once and for all. “Your turn.” I groan out, feeling the unbearable tightness of my chest.
I need a fucking drink for this shit.
Star looks at me, then she looks at my lips and then back into my eyes.
“It all became too much.” She starts, unwrapping her legs around me. “The doctors there treated me like I was really mentally unstable, so they just gave me drugs all the time.” A blank look crosses her eyes as she shivers. “Add that to the fact that I was just a teenager who had just been. . . “
I suck in a breath, my heart thundering in my chest as that rage in me rises just by seeing the look of terror and pain on her face. I don’t think we’ll ever be over what happened in our lives.
“Anyway, I felt so damn alone when I was there.” She finishes.
“I tried to see you.” I confess and she whips her head up to look at me with shock.
“What?” She demands.
“George came to see you and I tagged along with him.”
“He never said a word.” She gasps, her wide eyes still in shock.
“That’s because you never wanted to talk about me.” I say with a hint of accusation in my voice. I refuse to let her know how much the thought of her refusing to even acknowledge me, did to me. How it made me angry with her. Made me hate her for making me feel that way.
“Well do you blame me? Your mother had just sent me away in your name.” She starts. “Hell, your mother is still hell bent on destroying every shred of my life.” Her voice hardens and my body grows tense.
I can feel my nostrils flaring, my jaw clenched tight and my knuckles white but I ease them as I reach for the box of band aids, to put them back, trying to seem at ease.
“Yeah, I know.” I start putting back the first aid kit knowing that she’s watching me because this girl is always in tune with me.
“Ace.” She calls my name with suspicion in her voice and I try to pretend like I can’t hear her.
“What are you planning in that sick head of yours?” She questions with caution.
I straighten up after clearing the counter and then walk over to her, with a tense smile on my face.
“Nothing they don’t already deserve.” I tell her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Now try to get some sleep, I’m going to work out in the gym.”
I leave the bathroom and I notice my phone is flashing with a text message from Emmett. I notice a million others from Noah as well. All unanswered.
I reach for it and everything in me halts to a screeching stop as I read the two sentences again and again.
Holy fuck!
DNA test is back. Does not match Astraea.
STRANGER: IT’S DONE. THEY KNOW.
UNKNOWN: GOOD. TIME FOR PHASE THREE.
STRANGER: DID I MISS PHASE TWO? FUCKING MAKE SURE YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING. IT’S CHAOS HERE.
UNKNOWN: JUST GET IT DONE. DON’T WORRY ABOUT #2. I GOT THAT IN THE BAG ALREADY.
STRANGER: EXPLAIN FUCKING NOW.
UNKNOWN: I SENT HER A PACKAGE A COUPLE OF YEARS AGO, IT WAS A SUCCESS.
STRANGER: OKAY. WHAT ABOUT THE BOY?
UNKNOWN: HE WILL DESTROY THEM ALL & HIMSELF.
STRANGER: YOU’RE AWFULLY SURE ABOUT THAT SHIT.
UNKNOWN: I KNOW MY PEOPLE. . . FUCKING TEXT ME WHEN IT’S DONE! GOT IT?
STRANGER: YEAH, WHATEVER.
After that night with Ace, things kind of got back to normal. Well, as normal as things in Westbrook could be, that is.
Amanda still wasn’t home or if she was, I didn’t want to know and Trumbull never said a word, he just loitered around the mansion like a damn possessed ghost that he was.
One afternoon, Emmett had to drop me off at home—the boys were really being serious about personally taking me home themselves, much to my irritation and a bit of thrill. I mean, it wasn’t all that amazing, having them breathing down my neck every second, but I had them with me. I can’t even begin to express to you how much I missed them and their attention on me.
Each class I had, they were with me. After school, during cheer practice as well as basketball practice, they were nearby. Always watching. Always within distance but then, it was starting to annoy me.
Campaigning for Kim against Brittney for Student Body President was also hot and heavy now that Brittney was acting like she had a secret up her sleeve. She acted strange these days, had a coy, devilish smile on her resting bitch face and she even walked around campus, with her minions in tow, like she was going to murder me. The boys stuck close even then, with Ace acting stranger with each day that passed.
But that day, I asked Emmett to take me home, in front of a tense Ace, who had his jaw clenched, his eyes glued on me. I ignored him, looking directly at my huge, muscular and not so comfy teddy bear, Emmett who of course agreed in a heartbeat, shooting Ace a look that I couldn’t decipher.
Trust, Ace. I need you to trust the truth.
On our way home, Emmett decided to shut me up about the surprise pop test in Physics class earlier today by buying me a bucket of The Haven’s fried chicken, he was probably annoyed and sick of me complaining, but I don’t care.
It’s food!
Charming, I know.
But what he then did in that care made my blood rush and my heart pound. Emmett had reached over and touched my now short hair softly, when we stopped at the traffic lights.
Heartbeat.
Heartbeat.
Heartbeat.
“You look beautiful.” He murmured, tugging at my hair, then tucking it softly behind my ear so that I look at him.
I don’t know why I blushed but I did whenever I received compliments, but something about Emmett’s compliment was so. . .real and a bit explicit. My heart starts pounding.
Was there truth to what everyone thought Emmett felt for me?
Was I really the reason he and Ace fought o
n Friday?
But before my imagination can run away with me, he chuckled, watching me, and then turned back to the road when the light turned green.
“It’s just a compliment Astraea, relax.” His deep voice murmured, making my heart pound even stronger but slower at the same time as his chuckles washes over me. When it comes to Emmett’s laugh, I always feel like a damn junkie, who has been denied her fix for so long that I can’t help but enjoy the sound, soaking it in as much as possible.
“You should laugh more often.” I murmur, watching him as he shifts gears when the lights turn green.
“Yeah?” He mumbles.
“Yeah.”
Silences stretches between us for a few minutes until he speaks again.
“I guess there really isn’t much to laugh about these days.” He grits out, jaw clenching.
What’s the story here? I can’t help the stirrings in me that keep warning me that something is off with Emmett. Sure, the boys are doing something shady as fuck but Emmett is hiding something, even Noah thinks so.
I turn away to look out the window, thinking of Friday night.
“Who was that girl?” I blurt out, then cover my mouth. I can’t believe I said those words out loud! Damn it!
He looks at me for a brief second, then back to the road. He doesn’t question who I mean but his knuckles tighten and grow white on the steering wheel as we approach the large gates to the estates.
Silence stretches between us as the guards hurry to open the gates, looking wary as Emmett revs the engine, allowing the purr of the car to grow louder, reminding me of a feral and cornered beast, wounded but still fucking dangerous and can mess your life up.
“Emmett.” I start softly but he presses down on the gas and we are shooting forward, past the gates and up the winding road to the top mansions of the estates.
He doesn’t say anything for a while and just as I’m about to ask again, he looks at me and tugs the locket around my neck.
“Just another girl I lost to the almighty king.” He rushes out, the words sounding bitter, rough and harsh as he says them. “Nothing but poison.”
And with that, he doesn’t utter another word, not even when he drops me off at my gate or when I murmur a quick thank you. He simply ignores me, and then leaves, with me wondering what the fuck he meant by that.
Vicious Hate (Westbrook Blues Book 2) Page 26