The Devil's Heir

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The Devil's Heir Page 13

by Leilani Lopez


  She asks about how I’m feeling after the party and I flinch at the memory.

  “No more murderous thoughts?”

  I jerk back, confused. “I’m sorry?”

  Lily’s smile breaks into a laugh. “You basically told me how you’d like to murder that Sasha girl when you were drunk. You were really explicit. I was impressed.”

  My shoulders tense at the realization of my self-sabotage. Who can I be upset at other than myself for putting myself into these situations? “I did?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She snorts. “When you said you’d like to cut off her fingers so they could never touch my brother again—priceless.”

  I close my eyes and sigh. Leave it to me to have one night of normal teenage debauchery and spill all my secrets.

  “You okay?” she asks when I don’t respond. “You’ve been holding onto your side all day.”

  I didn’t realize anyone had noticed.

  I’m sore but feel worse about the big black eye Aunt Polly was sporting this morning.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You sure?” She eyes me. “Did someone attack you?”

  “No, nothing like that.” I shake my head to reassure us both. “My aunt and I were doing some self-defense lessons.”

  She nods appreciatively. “Good. That’s good.”

  I want to deflect her attention off of me. And I know just how to do it.

  “How are you doing, Lily?”

  “Me?” she asks with wide eyes.

  “Yeah, we haven’t had much time to talk to each other.”

  Lily and I have grown close thanks to her insistence on a friendship. Her constant honesty is refreshing but often intimidating.

  She’s quiet for some time.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  Gravel crunches underneath our boots. We’re the only ones on the road. Most of the houses lie in the opposite direction.

  “Can I talk to you about something?”

  “Absolutely,” I say, meaning it.

  “I hate being in the middle of my father and Luke.”

  I look away, try to hide my eyebrows rising at her confession.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Lily sighs.

  “Did he ever tell you why we’re here?” she asks.

  “Not really. Just that it feels like he ended up here.”

  “Yeah, I guess you can say that. I made him come with me.”

  “And where were you before this?”

  “Everywhere,” she says easily. “My father runs a large corporation. When he’s away from home, everything falls to my brother and me.”

  I frown.

  “But you’re—”

  “A kid?” She snorts.

  I’m not going to bother lying.

  “Father started the grooming process the day we were born,” she says.

  What an odd word choice.

  “What do you mean? Grooming?”

  “Father’s corporation is growing. Luke and I know our place. Know what’s expected of us.”

  “And what kind of company is it?”

  She looks over at me, snickers.

  “I can’t tell you all my secrets.”

  That tells me all I need to know. If it was an actual corporation, she could have easily told me. If the Hales are involved in some sort of illegal activities, I don’t want to know.

  “So, what brought you here?”

  “They got into a fight. Father wanted Luke to do something that he didn’t want to.”

  “Your brother isn’t even in college yet,” I say. “Isn’t your father expecting a little much from him?”

  Lily purses her lips.

  “They have a complicated history.”

  She needs to say no more.

  “And what about you? What’s your relationship like?”

  Her smile seems sad.

  “He’s good to me.”

  It’s not my business to push any further. And what do I know about a functioning parent/child relationship?

  “How long are you planning on staying?”

  “In town?” she asks. “We leave when Luke’s ready.”

  “Why when he’s ready?”

  “We’re on vacation. I’m ready when he’s ready.”

  We start the climb toward her house. My breathing deepens at the incline, my ribs still sore.

  “When do you think he’ll be ready?”

  She shrugs.

  “There are still some things I’m trying to convince him of.”

  “And what’s that?”

  We arrive at the gate. She pushes it open but stops walking when the path diverges.

  “I just want you to know that all I want in life is to see my brother happy.”

  I frown at the desperation in her voice.

  “What makes you think he’s not?”

  “He hasn’t been for a long time.”

  “And you think I might help?”

  “I know you will.” She smirks. “You’re his type.”

  I bark out a laugh. “I think there’s someone else who’s exactly his type.”

  “No,” she says quickly. “No.”

  “Just because someone resembles an ex doesn’t mean they’re a perfect match.”

  Her mouth twitches. I’m about to step away when she blurts out, “I know he took you on a date.”

  Now that’s a twinge I was hoping to never feel again. The pity date.

  “You mean when he took me to lunch and the next day told me he didn’t want me around either of you because of my reputation?”

  “He didn’t mean it.”

  “Lily, I’m going to go.”

  I point over my shoulder, toward the house. I don’t have time to get trapped into this conversation again.

  “Yeah, okay. There’s something else I need to do around back.”

  Lily heads around the house, disappearing around the corner.

  I shake my head. That girl is relentless.

  I knock on the door and am greeted by a surprised Luke Hale.

  “Calla?” he asks. “Is everything okay?”

  “We really have to work on that project.”

  He releases a heavy sigh. “I forgot.”

  “Obviously.” I gesture to the house. “Can I come in?”

  He hesitates but lets me through the door.

  It’s in better shape than it was prior to the party.

  Luke leads me into a room I’ve never been in before, having spent most of my time in Lily’s bedroom.

  The room is as large and luxurious as every other part of the house. There’s an exquisite dining room table made from real wood, that looks like an original piece from when the house was built. Like in the other rooms in the house, the antique table seems to be the antique center piece of the room, and everything else is completely modern. The light fixtures are a silvery metal, and as soon as he flips on the light switch, I can’t help but be in awe.

  Luke walks ahead and yanks out one of the chairs for me. I gently set my backpack on the table. I look at him and his lack of working material and he excuses himself to go grab his backpack.

  While he’s gone, I pull everything out of my bag and place it on the large table in front of me. The guidelines for the project seem to be buried somewhere behind the rest of my handouts, further indicating how late we are on starting this project.

  Finding the paper, I look over the steps and groan out loud.

  Not only does Mr. Riley want a PowerPoint presentation, but he wants a corresponding eight-to-ten-page paper. I thought he wanted to make his life easier, but really it seems like he wants us both to suffer.

  I certainly hope Luke has his own computer because I do not. Most of the assignments I have to do on the computer are done in the lab on campus.

  Next, I stare at the handwritten topic assignment written on the bottom of the handout.

  History of Diablo: How did the rumors help create the town as it is today?
r />   I think back to the nasty comment Mr. Riley made when he assigned Luke and me the topic. Whether he needed some type of amusement in his life or it was just a really insensitive comment, I’ll never know.

  Luke returns with his backpack and a laptop. He sets them out on the table in front of me.

  “How do you want to do this?” I ask, cutting straight to the point.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  I blink at the question. “I’m sorry?”

  “Would you like a glass of water? I think we might have soda. Can I get you anything?”

  The tone of his voice has vastly shifted from his original greeting of me at his front door.

  Frustration runs through me. I’m not going to let him manipulate me into believing his false kindness only to be jolted out when he’s done with me. No moments of weakness from here on out. I’m here to get a job done.

  “How about we just start the project?” To stop him from further objecting, I pull a water bottle out of my backpack and take a long swig.

  Luke doesn’t say any more. He pulls out his notebook from his backpack and powers up his laptop, completely ignoring the fact I’m staring at him.

  The laptop powers up silently and then he’s typing something, the loud clicking of the keys echoing throughout the room.

  “Can you read the prompt for me again?” Luke asks, his eyes still on the screen.

  I recite it from memory and frown when he begins typing again. “What are you searching?”

  “A basic Google search on the history of Diablo. I figure it’s the best place to start, don’t you?”

  There’s an icky feeling growing within me. I can feel it festering in the pit of my stomach. I’m skeptical of his civil behavior.

  Asking me if I want water, like he really cares.

  I scoff to myself.

  Luke’s eyes glance up at me. “Did you say something?”

  “No,” I say, hoping I’m not speaking my thoughts out loud.

  He doesn’t respond, just continues typing.

  The longer I look at him, the more…annoyed I am. There’s no logical explanation as to why I should be feeling this way, but I am.

  I’m annoyed he’s not looking at me. I’m annoyed he’s not saying anything. But I’m mostly annoyed he’s just sitting there, completely unbothered.

  Then I feel it.

  Oh, please, don’t.

  I can feel the words coming up my throat without permission.

  “What’s your problem?”

  The clicking stops immediately and Luke finally sets his gaze on me. “What do you mean?”

  I lean back, as if that’s going to help me assess the situation. “What’s going on with you today?”

  Luke pushes his laptop away. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “Why are you holding back?”

  “I’m not holding anything back.”

  “Sure, you are,” I say. “You haven’t said a single negative thing to me yet.”

  He crosses his arms over his shoulder and leans back in his chair. “Is that right?”

  “Yes. Why is that?”

  “What makes you think I’m always negative to you?”

  “Because you are. All the time.”

  He smirks. “Not all the time. I thought we got along well when I took you to lunch.”

  “You forgot the part when you told me to stay away from you.”

  Luke sighs, as if he forgot about that part. “Listen, Calla…”

  “Just pick a side. Are you nice to me or not? I can’t deal with all of this back and forth and never knowing which version of you I’m going to get. First with lunch and then the assembly.”

  “I don’t think it’s fair I’m expected to choose a side. I didn’t ask to be here, and I don’t think it’s right for everyone to expect my compliance. We hadn’t even known each other for more than five minutes before my sister and all of your friends decided to make us a love story that’s not meant to exist.”

  This time, I’m heated with embarrassment.

  He’s completely right.

  Every single interaction I’ve had with him was either around his sister or me over analyzing his actions.

  I never considered him as just a person. He’s always been “Luke Hale: Possible devil. Definitely sinful. Absolutely alluring.”

  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to interact with you,” he continues. “I want to get to know you as a person, perhaps a friend, but I’m afraid anything nice is going to be taken out of context and I don’t want to deal with those repercussions from my sister. You’re a good person, but that doesn’t mean I want to be with you.”

  My breath catches. “I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

  His voice is empty. Dead.

  “Maybe not, but you’re right. I came from nothing to all of a sudden having what I’ve always dreamt of. Friends. People who actually care about me. Of course, you’re not going to just fall for me…” I don’t know why I say this next part. “To think I would have a fairy tale relationship on top of that is just ridiculous.”

  I can’t bring myself to look at him.

  His cell phone rings and he looks down at it. “I have to take this.”

  When he leaves the room, Lily walks by the doorway but doesn’t acknowledge me. I call out her name.

  “Lily, where’s your restroom?”

  She hooks a thumb over her shoulder. “Down the hall, last door on the left.”

  Without another word, she continues her journey through the house. By the time I make it out of the room, she’s gone.

  I follow her directions and get flashbacks of stumbling down this hall on the way to Lily’s room. The only reason I made it was because of Luke anchoring me to his side.

  I’m still reeling from the conversation I just stepped out of. I’m ashamed of myself for placing Luke in a box before I ever got to know him. Yes, the first words he ever spoke to me were “get off my property” and “leave my sister alone,” but that was before we realized we were going to be stuck in the same friend group.

  I’ve dismissed every single word he’s ever said to me. Always assumed his actions were meant to hurt me in some shape or form. Never took his actions for what they were: simple disinterest.

  An ego I never realized I had got hurt. And I certainly wasn’t nice to him at some points.

  I should be ashamed I made him feel trapped.

  I shake my head, scoff to myself.

  The door to the left is shut, so I knock. When there’s no response, I turn the metal knob and push the door open.

  I realize my mistake immediately.

  This is far from the bathroom.

  In fact, this is probably the one area of the house I should not be in.

  I can tell this is Luke’s bedroom because it’s the complete opposite of Lily’s. While her room is busy and filled with personal artifacts, his is practically bare. The bed is sitting in the center of the room with a single dresser off to the side.

  With a quick scan of the room, I spot two additional doors, not including the one open and filled with clothes.

  I ignore the fact Lily purposefully directed me to her brother’s room and quietly tiptoe across the wood floors to what I’m hoping is the restroom. If Luke catches me in here, it will most likely wreck the newfound peace, but my need to use the restroom is stronger. I pull open one of the doors and my heart drops.

  It’s definitely not a bathroom. I’ve walked into a shrine.

  The dimensions are incredibly small, no more than standing room, and holds one item. Luke might actually kill me if he finds me in here.

  My hand is shaking as I search the interior wall for some type of light switch. And when I do, a low moan escapes me.

  A large, hand-painted portrait of a girl sitting on a chaise hangs on the opposite wall. The background is painted a dark green, which contrasts beautifully against the purple in her dress.
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br />   The thick strands of her midnight hair drape eloquently in a loose braid over her shoulder.

  Her cheek bones are high and painted red.

  Her eyes dark but defiant.

  Her lips pulled up in the makings of a small smirk.

  My entire body shudders.

  I cover my mouth. A cry slips through my fingers.

  The woman in the portrait is me. It has to be me. It looks just like me.

  “Oh, my God.”

  I can feel my knees begin to buckle. They want to fall, collapse, no longer support my weight. But I’m locked in on her eyes.

  My eyes.

  Somehow, they’re wrong.

  I’m not defiant.

  I’m not lively.

  I feel none of the confidence this version seems to portray.

  How is it he sees me like this, when I never could?

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  My shoulder is yanked back, pulling me out of the closet. Luke is looking down at me with a pained expression.

  I point to the portrait behind me. “What is this? Why do you have this?”

  He inhales sharply, his eyes clouded with something I don’t recognize.

  “Is that me?” I ask around a gasp, realizing how crazy this family might be. My eyes start swirling as I start experiencing a heavy case of vertigo. I reach out for something to hold onto. “Did you have this portrait painted of me?”

  “Of course not.”

  His level responses only make me begin to panic more. I read somewhere sociopaths are impossible of feeling human emotion.

  I stumble backward, catching myself on the door. My words come out in a rushed scream. “Why does she look like me?”

  He doesn’t respond. I take a steady step into his personal space, looking up directly into his eyes and repeat the question, no longer afraid of what he’s capable of.

  He catches my gaze, unflinching but doesn’t give me what I want.

  I don’t know if I’m supposed to be afraid. Maybe I should, but I have a gut feeling that he’s not going to hurt me. He’s had plenty of opportunities to kill me if that’s what he wanted. In fact, all he’s ever done is try to protect me. Protect me and push me away at the same time.

  That spiel he gave me about friendship was all lies. Luke Hale is an animal, and I’ve just backed him into a corner I was never meant to be in.

  Holding onto his unhinged gaze, I know he’s just as bewildered as I am.

  I think I’m going to be sick.

 

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