Evil Love

by Ella Fields

  Everyone smiled and gave us room to wade deeper into the suite.

  In a floor-length silver gown that displayed way too much cleavage, Mom stood in the back next to Elijah, but Henry was nowhere to be seen.

  My mother stole me from Jude, air-kissing both my cheeks and then pulling my loose curls over my shoulders to drape over the bodice of my dark blue gown.

  It was slimline, plain, and fell straight to the floor. I couldn’t be bothered to try harder. I’d found it on the discount rack at a boutique in the market square yesterday afternoon. A tiny slight no one but me would know I’d accomplished. The small show of pettiness made me smile, and that was all I cared about these days.

  “You look well,” Mom said. “He’s treating you okay?”

  She’d phoned me twenty times since I’d moved in over a week ago. “We don’t really see each other, so everything’s fine.”

  She glanced around then and shot me a look that said to keep comments like that to myself.

  “… she caught me by surprise, most definitely,” I heard Jude say with forced laughter to Headmaster Taurin and his football coach from Peridot Academy.

  And so the story went for the next hour until it was passed around the room. “I felt like a dickhead, completely wretched. I liked her, you see. I guess I just liked her so much I didn’t know what to do with it.”

  I wasn’t sure how anyone believed him. It was hard for me not to roll my eyes. With an old sadness I didn’t think would ever abate, I stood dutifully beside him, our arms linked, and drank until I was using him to stay upright.

  Swaying, I laughed at an elderly man who’d said, “Treat them mean, keep them keen.”

  He winked, and I stabbed a finger at him. “You’re so funny.” He fucking wasn’t. Not at all.

  His smile waned as he frowned at me, and Jude chuckled. He snatched the remainder of my champagne and bopped me on the nose. “No more for this one.”

  “A little young to be drinking, aren’t we?” the man asked, knowing full well that there were those of us on the island who did as we pleased, age be damned.

  “But it’s a celebration,” I said, conspiratorially.

  That earned me a rich bout of laughter from the gent. “Too right. You young ones enjoy yourselves, even in the bad times, especially then, you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear,” Jude said through his forced smile, steering me into the back corner of the room. “The fuck, Red?” he hissed, nodding at someone we passed.

  “Where are all your school friends?” I said with a hiccup. “They can’t be the last to know, surely.”

  “They were invited,” he said, grabbing my waist when I made to get myself more to drink. “Stop it.”

  I pouted. “Well, where are they?”

  I knew why Silas wasn’t here. He never left our place unless it was to drink or attend school and practice. He was already failing in the last two areas being that he selected when to show up for either.

  Jude’s face came into focus, green eyes and sharp lines. “Once they heard it wasn’t a joke, they held no interest in attending.”

  “Oh,” I said, sobering a little.

  Jude sighed; his hands steady heat at my back, pulling me closer.

  In his arms, the rest of the room dripped away until it was just us. I couldn’t not look at him, so I noticed the shadows under his eyes. “Sleep well?”

  “Like I was born yesterday.”

  My arms looped behind his neck, my wrists tingling at the feel of his warm skin and that soft hair. “Fitting for that attitude of yours.”

  “Did you fuck him?”

  Shocked into stillness, I blinked at him.

  His lashes were sitting high, and his mouth etched into a thin line as he waited for me to explain what happened with Adrian, a guy I’d met at the library on campus. He was just one of many I planned to parade through the house.

  But I wasn’t about to explain anything to him. “Did you really think I’d been a saint since that fateful night? That I’d hold out hope and actually wait around for you to apologize? You remember the one, don’t you?” I lifted to my toes, whispering to that gorgeous mouth, “The night you gifted me with the reputation of a crazy bitch all because I used to adore you? No?” I kissed him, his stuttered breath burning, then pulled back to smile up at him. “Mmm, well, I’m just playing the part you gave me, and it would seem that you’re the only one who has an issue with my… personality.”

  His laughter was silent mockery. “You’re a fool if you think they care about whatever reputation I gave you. They just want your tits in their faces and your cunt wrapped around their cocks, sweetheart, and don’t you forget it.”

  My smile widened as my heart soured. “What a visual, huh?”

  His teeth gritted. “You can’t mess around like that. Nightingale won’t stand for this marriage to be known for what it really is.”

  “And what is that, dear Jude?”

  His hands pressed into my hips. “Fake as fuck.”

  “Right,” I said, rocking in time to the slow hum of violins. “Well, I don’t feel like spending the next twelve months celibate, and I know you don’t either.” I whispered to his jaw, his whiskered skin and scent taunting, “How is the lovely Marnie?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, gruff. “I ended it last week.”

  That halted my hips and train of thought. “What?”

  “I loathe repeating myself, Red.”

  “But… I don’t understand why you’d do that,” I said, almost to myself. The warmth from the champagne left my veins, leaving me cold and bereft even while in his arms. “Not after you went to such extreme lengths to win her back.”

  A half laugh washed over the bare skin of my shoulder. “Sounds to me like someone has the wrong idea.”

  “Oh?” I asked. “Tell me how it was then.”

  “It might have started out that way, but the truth is, I really just don’t like you.” Even after telling myself I was through with him, and that he could no longer hurt me, I felt the broken shards of my heart fracture. “You were kind of fun until your weird obsession with me became ten shades of fucked up.” Releasing me, he dragged a finger down my cheek to my chin, tipping it up so I’d meet his narrowed eyes. “You think all that was bad? Fuck this second chance up for me, and you’ll see just how much worse I can be.”

  With that, he stalked off across the room to clap one of his old teammates on the back.

  I stood there, gaping after him with my chest and face burning. I couldn’t tell if it was the ache he’d embedded inside me, or if it was growing fury.

  All I knew was I would live my life however I wanted, and he’d just have to deal with any repercussions that might come our way. The days and nights of being a pin cushion for whatever it was that’d messed him up had ended months ago.

  He couldn’t hurt me anymore.

  Between classes the following Wednesday, I received a text from Cory asking to meet her for lunch in the gardens outside the cafeteria.

  I ran through every excuse in my mind, the botched-up story I couldn’t quite get right, knowing she was never going to believe me. But it wasn’t as if I could avoid her, and I knew she’d heard about the engagement party.

  The only difference between college and high school was that people found better things to do than gossip much quicker, but they’d still do it.

  Under a willow tree by a pond with a tiny bridge and a statue of a moss-covered frog, Cory waited at a wooden set of table and chairs with her laptop open.

  “Hey.” I dropped into the bench seat across from her, but I didn’t bother unwrapping my burger.

  “Now, it could be just a rumor, and by god am I hoping that it is, but supposedly”—her computer was slapped closed, revealing wide, searching eyes—“you got engaged. To your tormentor slash teenage obsession.”

  “Ex-obsession,” I clarified.

  “You’re not exactly doing a great job of convincing me this shit is real, you know th
at?”

  “It is,” I said, leaning forward. “Unfortunately. Look, I can’t explain it. I’m not allowed…”

  “Not allowed?” she practically screeched, then glanced around before looking back at me with concern. “Fern, is the asshole pulling another outrageously evil prank on you? You need to tell me. I’ll help you—”

  “He’s not.”

  She kept going. “We can get you out of this, screw him. I’ll come over this afternoon, and we can move you into my apart—”

  “Cory,” I snapped, shocking us both. “I’m fine, and we’re getting married, and there’s nothing you, him, or I can do about it. The wedding is in two weeks.”

  She reared back, blinking profusely. “Sorry, did you just say two weeks? Fern, you’re eighteen.”

  “Nineteen in a couple of months,” I muttered as though that’d help. Then because I was a god damn idiot who wanted to get this off my chest, I said, “You’re not allowed to come, and I hate that so much, and I’m so sorry. But it’s not like it’s…” I stopped myself from saying more than I should. I had a feeling this meetup was already a big mistake. Jude and I should’ve set this in motion a lot better as soon as I moved in. We should’ve made it at least somewhat believable to those who knew us.

  Cory blinked some more, then puffed out a breath. “Wow.” Staring at me for a moment that dragged into a minute, I saw the change in her eyes when confusion turned into all-out suspicion. “Hold the fuck up. You’re getting married, and I’m not invited? And to the guy who ruined your senior year?”

  I nodded, biting my lips so I didn’t say anything else.

  “Something’s wrong here,” she said. “So wrong that I can feel it crawling over my skin, and why do I think Silas…” She must’ve read the panic in my expression, for she leaned forward and hissed, “You know something about that, don’t you?”

  Heading downstairs the night before our engagement party, I’d stopped on the landing when I’d overheard Silas talking to Jude about his parents and Cory. I hadn’t heard much, but his regret and anger were enough to piece together what he’d meant when Cory had said they had made him do it.

  He’d had to destroy his relationship in order to initiate, and I was willing to bet that his parents were behind the orchestration of it. Not just because they didn’t like Cory but because he was still refusing to go home.

  No matter what I’d figured out, I had to keep my mouth shut, which officially made me the worst friend ever.

  I squeezed my eyes closed. “Cory, please.”

  Her hands captured mine, and my eyes snapped open. “Fern, spill. Right now.”

  “I can’t,” I said, dragging out the words. “I want to, please believe that, but I honestly can’t.”

  Releasing me, she sat back, her brows drawn tight. “You can’t tell me something that concerns my own boyfriend?”

  I rolled my lips between my teeth. I didn’t know enough about Silas. Only that he’d cheated on her during, or for, his initiation. It didn’t change the fact that he still did it. He had the choice. Initiate or don’t. He’d gone ahead with it.

  Telling her it was all because of some fucked-up secret society wouldn’t help her anyway.

  “Kay,” Cory eventually said, packing away her things. Grabbing her laptop bag, she rose from the bench seat and slung it over her shoulder.

  She left, and I battled the urge to cry and run after her while silent laughter fell from my parted lips. It wasn’t funny. Nothing about any of this was remotely funny.

  But it was ironic, how the things we wanted most could end up destroying us, piece by piece at a time.

  Jude

  “Engaged?” Alana, a pretty little blonde thing who’d taken to sitting next to me during American literature, repeated at a wince-inducing volume.

  “Yep,” I said, then continued on my merry way from the old room. I was a lover of libraries and historic buildings, but too much mildew in the air was not for me.

  Informing her I was off the market hadn’t seemed to work. What good was being engaged if you couldn’t use it to opt out of unwanted conversation? Outside, the sun beating back the graying clouds, Alana grabbed my arm on the cobblestone path. “I’ve never seen you with someone.”

  “So?” I said, pulling my arm away.

  Her light brows lowered, pink lips twisting. “I guess I just feel kind of bad.” Her tongue snaked out, running over her teeth. “Since we’ve been hanging and all.”

  My brows rose at that, and trying not to laugh, I just stared at her for a moment. She was gorgeous, sure. I’d been tempted when she’d first taken a seat next to me after I’d broken up with Marnie, sure.

  But that temptation was born from a place that hungered for revenge and the need to rebel. To beat at the box I’d been kicked into with such stunning force.

  A glimpse of fiery hair across the quad saved me, and I hollered, “Oh, Red!”

  She glanced over, about to keep walking until I gestured for her to get her ass over here.

  I wasn’t sure why she humored me. I was just relieved she did.

  Alana scurried down the path before Fern even reached us, and I made a show of looking at her ass even though it wasn’t much to look at, and I really didn’t give a shit.

  “You’re a pig,” Fern said. “New plaything?”

  “Pig? Funny, I thought I was all you had.” She glared. I smirked. “And no, I was just telling her about my lovely fiancée, actually.”

  Tucking some of that wild hair behind her ear, she glanced at the students rushing by to their next class. I noticed then she wasn’t wearing her engagement ring. I knew she had one. Looking back at the times I’d seen Fern since she’d moved in, I realized I couldn’t remember seeing it. “Speaking of… Where’s your ring?”

  “Gone.”

  I cursed. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. What do you want?”

  I thought I might pass out even though I hadn’t bought the stupid thing in the first place. My father’s assistant had. “You threw what had to be thousands of dollars’ worth of jewelry into the trash?”

  “I donated it to the homeless shelter, if you must know.”

  Whoa. I wasn’t sure if she was legit insane, or stupid, or too fucking nice.

  Maybe all three.

  “Jude,” she prompted, her tone growing huskier with impatience. “What do you want?”

  I gave my head a bit of a shake, then grinned. “Not a damn thing, but we are getting married next week, so allow me to escort you to class, my soon-to-be bride.”

  “I’m good,” she said, laughing a little as she walked away. “And you’re a dick.”

  I caught up with her and slung my arm around her shoulders. “It would behoove us to be seen around campus together at least once or twice.”

  “Why?” Pulling at my immovable arm, she groaned.

  “Quit it, and act like you still love me for two seconds.”

  She stopped moving then, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at her, to read her expression. We walked in tense silence toward the science building, and I smiled, being sure to meet the eyes of a few onlookers as we went.

  “She was hitting on me,” I finally murmured and had no idea why. “Alana, and I was fucking sick of it.”

  “Poor baby.” She mock-pouted. “I’m surprised.”

  “Yeah?” I asked, forcing my eyes off those blues. “Dare I ask?”

  “I’m surprised you can’t tell someone to fuck off as easily as you once told me.” Tearing away, she stalked up the stairs, leaving me at the bottom.

  “Fern,” I yelled, then waited until she turned back, knowing she would. It was just us, only a few people drifting down the path behind me, but her cheeks still colored when my eyes roamed her tight denim-clad legs to the pink Vans on her feet. “I find I prefer you without heels.”

  I laughed when she flipped me off and glided away, her red hair bouncing down her back.

  All weddings for members of Nightingale were
held at The Ribbon inside the room of servitude.

  I thought it fitting and kind of disturbing that the once salaciously used space, reserved for the darker indulgences of our members, was now dressed in white.

  It was too clean, too floral, whispering spreads of silk and white roses scattered throughout the entire suite. Even the bloody ground was covered in white petals.

  Fern was no virgin, that much had become apparent after she’d blatantly ignored my threat and brought someone home the night before our wedding.

  Her moans had reddened my vision, hardened my cock, and I’d gone to bed with my earphones in, hoping I’d actually fall asleep.

  I had, but not until the front door had closed, and I’d fucked my hand over the bathroom sink.

  Shame and loathing had never made my blood swell and bubble quite like that. I’d stood there, staring at the cum-splattered stone, fuming that I still wanted her after all the trouble she’d caused—after she’d allowed another male inside her room. Inside her.

  And that was what stained my mind when the orchestra took flight and the doors at the back of the room opened to reveal my bride.

  I wanted to know who’d been the one to deflower her.

  Everyone stood, my father behind me—both celebrant and island king—already standing.

  Henry smiled at me from the front row, and I managed to give him a small one in return.

  Then I followed everyone’s eyes to Fern.

  You have got to be shitting me.

  Sheer lace sleeves adorned her arms, and tightly woven silk engulfed her every curve, flaring at her knees to her feet where a short lace train trailed behind her, dragging petals beneath it. It wasn’t the style of the dress that had everyone gasping, though. No, it was the color.

  My bride came to me dressed in black.

  Of course, she did.

  Behind a lace veil, those light blue eyes smiled, her red lips still and serene.

  January, of course, was delivering her to me, and if she was annoyed by her daughter’s dramatics, it definitely did not show. She smiled at those they walked by, her hand patting Fern’s arm, of which was curled around hers. All too soon, she gave her daughter to me with a smile that dared me to hurt her again.