Return : Stratham Knights Book 1

by NV Roez

  Why do people assume that touching me is okay?

  I'm not sure how to feel about the whole situation, since technically he's a staff member at Stratham University, but I did come here to have fun. At the end of the day, who really cares?

  The Knights don't.

  He's not my professor or coach, and he is attractive.

  While I'm having an internal debate in my head, he moves his hands around my waist, grinding against me in the middle of the dance floor, not caring in the slightest on whether it's appropriate or not. There's a niggle in my spine raising a red flag that I don't understand.

  Celeste comes up to grind behind me, moving Ryan out of the way, with Taylor and Justin at her heels. Gotta love the girl for sticking to our code. I didn't come with Ryan, so she's marking her territory, allowing me to say otherwise. I don't.

  We stay on the dance floor twerking to Cardi B, laughing as Taylor tries to keep up. Poor guy. He's not that great at dancing, but I give him credit for trying. Besides, it feels good as hell to laugh.

  There's a crowd surrounding us, and Justin is doing a decent job of keeping wandering hands from touching either of us girls. I like him a little more each time he blocks someone from dancing with me. I came here alone, so it's not like it's his responsibility. I told him as much earlier and he shrugged it off, saying something about understanding our girl code and he'd gladly keep his girl's friends just as protected as she is. Yea, Celeste did good with him.

  I turn to move to Celeste's side when I feel cold liquid splash in my face. What the hell?

  "Oops. Sorry. I didn't see you there." Juliette snickers with the fake apology as I realize that the cold liquid is beer from her now empty cup. "Maybe you should watch where you're going."

  Before I even have a chance to react, Celeste is there, yelling at Juliette, and calling her a dumb bitch and something else I can't quite make out. I know it's completely inappropriate to giggle, given the situation, but Celeste is so short—even with the heels she's wearing— though it doesn't stop her from defending me.

  Ah, my little chihuahua.

  "You give up first class for slumming it, Justin? Sorta disappointing to see a Knight fall so low." Genna imposes herself into the mix, folding her arms and looking down her nose at Justin with the rest of the bitch squad in tow.

  "Back off, Genna. You just got to this world. Let's not make the mistake of forgetting that I own it. You're here because I allowed it, and Cele has more class in her pinky than Juliette has in her entire body," Justin says with a huge-ass grin while he wraps his arms around his girl, slyly trying to restrain the now fuming Celeste.

  I can't help the smile that dances across my face as pure pain crosses Juliette's. I don't know the girl, but she did pour beer on me, so fuck her.

  "What are you laughing at, trash?" Genna scoffs in my direction. Her minions get closer, creating a semicircle around me, and my smile just grows bigger.

  "Clearly, I’m laughing at you.”

  I cross my arms, mimicking her stance, and continue. “You try so hard to be relevant. The reality is, your presence is as insignificant as a training bra. You’ll never be anything more than someone’s side piece, and it kills you. You desperately want to reign supreme, so you force yourself on us peasants.”

  I shake my head, feigning disappointment.

  “All that Valentino and Prada, and you’re no better than bargain basement thrift stores. Use your head, princess, no one gives a fuck about you. Stay away from us. Following your ego is going to get you hurt.”

  I grab Celeste's hand and nod to Justin, letting him know that I've got her, and take her to the bar before we both do something we'll regret. As much as I want to deflate Genna's fake ass boobs, I want to graduate more.

  "I wish I could knock that bitch out." Celeste is vibrating with anger, her body visibly shaking.

  "She's just an attention whore, Cele, don't let her ruin your night. You have Justin and he's clearly infatuated with you. Fuck those bitches". I tilt my head toward her, raising my shot glass to salute, when my nose is assaulted by soap and fresh linen and all the air escapes my lungs. I know it's him before I even turn around.

  Breathe, Evelyn. Just fucking breathe.

  "Oh hey, Elijah. Have you met Evie?" Celeste says, all too cheery. "She transferred in a few months ago as a sophomore, like us."

  Jesus Christ, Celeste, shut up.

  Elijah makes a show of checking me out from head to toe with his hungry, silver gray eyes, and I can feel the heat in my cheeks. He knows he's making me uncomfortable and he’s enjoying every minute of it. By the time he's done with his exaggerated eye-fuck, I'm sure I'm the color of a tomato.

  "Sorry, Celeste, she doesn't look like one of us. She looks like some cheap trailer trash that you snuck in from NHU. I know you're the 'save the world' type, but maybe it's time for you to keep better company. Some people just aren't worth saving. You are dating a Knight, you need to start acting like it," he replies with an artful smirk.

  He probably practices that damn smirk in the mirror on a regular basis, because even though the words are harsh, he still looks like a god saying it.

  "Asshole," I say under my breath, watching him walk away, taking what's left of my black heart with him and leaving me breathless. He has yet to say a single word to me. Like I'm not even worth addressing. Like I am no one. Could be a win if they leave me alone.

  "I'm sorry, Evie. I don't know why he was so rude. He's always been so nice to me when I go visit Justin."

  "Don't. Do not apologize for that asshole. Let's just get drinks and head back to the guys." I try, and fail, to act unfazed.

  I don't even get three steps before I feel sick as I watch Alexis wrap her arms around Elijah's waist, slipping her hand in his back pocket. The way she looks at him is like a punch in my gut.

  I used to look at him that way.

  But what’s even worse is that he used to look at me that way, too. It was real back then, wasn’t it?

  Nope. I can’t do this. I can’t even fucking breathe… I need air.

  Celeste turns to me, questioning with her eyes, but I shake my head.

  "I just need to catch some air, Cele. I'm going to go outside for a bit. I promise, I won't leave," I shout over the music and do my best to genuinely smile. It seems to work because she disappears in the crowd as I step out back.

  I need to get as far away from Kelly House as I can without actually leaving, or I’ll never hear the end of it from Celeste.

  On my way to the back exit, I pass some of the alumni professors as they’re leaving the party. I notice Professor Wessex—with his beady little eyes—looking for the next naive student who’s failing his class. I ignore the disdained look he gives me and head out to the gazebo. My combat boots stomp over the wooden steps and I perch my behind on one of the benches. I focus on how beautiful it is out here tonight with all the string lights and tiki torches, if not a bit chilly.

  I probably should go back to get my jacket, but I need the break more than the jacket. I rub my thumb against my tattoo like it could summon my sister if I rubbed hard enough. But she never comes.

  As soon as I start to feel like I can breathe, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and a shiver ripples through my body. I look over to the right side of the building like a magnet being pulled to its polar opposite and see two dark silhouettes walking towards me.

  Well, so much for a break... time to go.

  I get up to leave just as Micah and Caleb walk into the light. The universe doesn't just hate me; it abhors me.

  I try to make my way back to the party, but Micah blocks me with his six-foot muscular frame towering over mine. His ocean eyes look more like sapphires tonight. He steps closer without saying a word, and I step back before I realize that Caleb is at my back. Fuck.

  "You're not supposed to be here, Angel," Micah says, shaking his head. He continues his stride forward, baring his beautiful teeth in an evil smile while Caleb's large rough hands
grip my shoulders. I freeze, stuck in Micah's soul-searching eyes while my breathing becomes choppy and short.

  "Micah..." I try to find words, but all logic leaks out of my brain as I feel Caleb move closer behind me. His cloves and leather scent mixes with Micah's coconut and spiced cinnamon, and I can't help the ache of home that rides me.

  Caleb leans close to my ear, sending waves of furious heat across my collarbone.

  Micah shakes his head slowly and leans down so he's eye level. He’s so close to my face that if I were to take a deep breath in, our lips would touch.

  "You don't get to speak. Your words mean shit and the fact that you're still here is beyond disappointing. So every word that comes out of your mouth is an insult."

  Being this close, I can see that his pupils are dilated. The whites of his eyes are tinged red, and his breath reeks of alcohol and pot. He's high and drunk.

  Fabulous.

  "Micah, back up. You don't want to do anything you'll regret. Caleb, let go. I'm not in the mood for this shit right now. Didn't you get enough yesterday when your little bitch squad jumped me and put a fucking bat to my head." I force the words out with false strength as I discreetly reach into my back pocket.

  "See, Evelyn, we can't do that. You've stolen a life, you're here when you shouldn't be, you destroyed my mom's charity, and now that we're Knights, it's time you compensate us for our losses. No one crosses a Knight without payment," Caleb growls, low in my ear. "I've got to know, was it worth it?"

  "Was what worth it? I don't know what you're playing at or how many different ways I can possibly say it, but for the last fucking time, the fire was an accident," I say through clenched teeth. I grab my butterfly knife from my pocket with minimal movement, hoping Caleb doesn't catch on. I'm so glad I decided to bring it with me tonight.

  "And to think, you hurt your sister over a boy," Caleb says in disgust while the corners of Micah's sweet, luscious mouth turn down.

  A boy?

  "You may have gotten away with killing Ivy, but make no mistake, we know what you did, Little Flower. And you will pay for that."

  The earth stops spinning. The world around me is paralyzed as I process what Caleb just said to me. An instant shot of adrenaline courses through my veins, moving me at what feels like the speed of light.

  I flick my wrist to open my butterfly knife and stab behind me with my full strength into the meaty part of Caleb's thigh. The next instant, my fisted hand greets Micah's cheek with a right hook as hard as I can muster.

  "Fuuuck! You just stabbed me, you psycho slut," Caleb screams, pushing me forward as he stumbles back.

  Micah is stunned, not moving, staring at me with hesitation and confusion. He's the lesser of the two evils right now, so I spin around to glare into the most beautiful blue-green eyes ever created in this world and stalk forward.

  I no longer feel like me, going numb on the outside while a burning inferno rages on the inside.

  I am the walking epitome of wrath. My insides feel nothing less than vehement fury.

  I've spent so much time in hell, but today—right now—is the first time I've ever internally embraced the idea of remaining there.

  Fuck trying to be good. If the devil wants me so bad, I might as well be the queen of purgatory and just let go.

  "What did you just call me?" My level of disgust and rage reaches a new high as images of my demons violating me over and over crawls across my mind's eye.

  My rage is blinding but I keep going. "You do not get to speak her name. I did not kill her. And I sure as hell didn't fight with her over any guy, you stupid fuck. My beautiful, amazing spirit of a sister was very much gay, asshole. How does a guy factor into that? She was my other half, my twin... She was my fucking soul," I shout, grabbing the handle of my knife that's still sticking out of Caleb's thigh and yank it free, relishing in the roaring sounds of his pain.

  "Never. Call. Me. That. Again. You worthless piece of shit. I. Will Fucking. End. You," I spit out, letting the truth of that promise seep in the air.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Micah move forward and reach out to touch my shoulder. I whirl on him, bloody knife positioned under his chin, and he raises his hands in submission.

  "No! YOU don't get to touch me. How could you? You were my best friend. I went to you for help and you left me. I didn't ask for any of those things to happen to me. And you have the nerve to throw it in my face, sit back while I lived tormented, day in and day out, and then be mad at ME for what happened? You wanted me dead? Good. You are dead to me, Micah. Don't so much as look at me for as long as you still have breath or I will gladly take it from you."

  "Angel... Evie... Evelyn, I don't know what you're talking about." His eyes are full of sorrow, like he's just woken up from a dream.

  "Funny, I remember saying the same thing, but like you said, words mean shit. Now, back the fuck up."

  I turn back to Caleb and drill my stare as far deep into his soul as I can reach. "I'll speak slow so you can commit it to memory. I never lied to you. You refused to listen. If you truly knew what happened, you'd know that I didn't fucking lie to you, not then, not now. I did not kill my sister. I was a child, for fuck’s sake. And for you to make it as if it's a game, some arbitrary debt that I owe you because I let you fuck me? Grow the fuck up, Caleb!" I'm shouting now, zero control. "You took two years of my life over something you don't even understand. I've paid enough for a hundred lifetimes. Tell me, Caleb, how much is your soul worth? No matter that number, my sister was worth a thousand times more."

  Caleb's eyes swirl with a kaleidoscope of blues, greens, and gold as confusion clouds his face. His hand down presses on his bleeding thigh, but I don't care.

  I need to get out of here before I do something I can't take back. As I run back towards the sliding glass doors that lead to the party inside, I see Elijah coming out of the shadows, glaring at me in passing as he goes towards Caleb and Micah.

  Good, fuck him too.

  Walking back inside with my shoulders back, head held high, and looking more calm than I was when I got here—minus the blood on my hands and knife—I go to pick up my jacket and let my friends know I'm heading out.

  Celeste doesn't notice my bloody hands and doesn't put up too much of a fight since she's preoccupied with Justin. Ryan is nowhere to be seen, and Taylor is so wasted I doubt he even knows his own name right now.

  “Lucky him,” I think to myself and trek across campus back to my room.

  As soon as I'm in my room, I scrub my hands in the kitchen to wash off Caleb's blood and grab Celeste's Fireball.

  I shrug out of my jacket and change into my tank and sleep shorts. I pick up my jacket to empty its pockets before putting it away. I pull out my cell, spare key, and a picture. What?

  Flipping the picture over, my stomach bottoms out.

  This can't be real.

  My fingers slowly trace the Polaroid over the familiar little girl's face. She looks so sad, so resigned, and in a pale blue dress with white ruffles on the end.

  She's standing in the room those demon bastards loved so much, with the frilly floral comforter in the background and blood running down between her small thighs.

  I fall against the window, sliding to sit on the extra wide windowsill as my ribs splinter in pain of a memory.

  I swear I can still smell the alcohol and stale cigarettes.

  "You've upset me, Little Flower."

  My face burned from the backhanded slap across my cheekbone.

  "My patience has run out. Maybe my friends are right and I'm just wasting time with you. But you know what? You're mine," Hades said with his bottomless black eyes while he unbuckled his pants.

  "Please, don't," I whispered, barely audible.

  I knew I shouldn't have said anything, but my fear was different, desperate. My vision blurred as I desperately tried to keep the tears from falling.

  Those bastards made me do unimaginable things for months. They did unimaginable things. But this... th
is time was different.

  Behind me, the devil who never spoke pulled at my wrists and pressed against me. I saw the smug satisfaction in the Beast's face. He reeked of alcohol and stale cigarettes at my side. They’d finally gotten me into that stupid dress.

  "Did you really think that you were ever going to be worth anything more than what we make you? Those boys you're so fond of don't want a dirty little girl like you. You are nothing but our plaything, and tonight, you'll finally learn what it means to be a woman," the Beast mocked.

  The man who never spoke broke his silence that night, and whispered in my ear, "Finally."

  I repeated my mantra in my mind as I mentally escaped that room and prayed to a god that never came.

  It didn't matter what I did, it never changed, and after that night, there was nothing else they could take. I belonged to them. I would always belong to them, and they would always have a piece of me. No matter how desperately I wished they didn’t. They took what I could never get back.

  I scream—a guttural, throat burning scream—and rip the picture into a million pieces, as if destroying the picture could erase that girl from my timeline.

  I am not that weak, helpless girl anymore. I don't want to be that girl anymore.

  I push out one last scream before willing myself to calm down with my breathing exercises. My eyes burn with unshed tears, and I stare absently outside the window.

  Is it possible to feel so much pain, to drown in so much suffering that there's nothing left but cold numbness?

  After a few minutes of feeling tainted and worthless, a thought comes to me. Someone here knows my secrets.

  I've returned to the seventh circle hell.

  11

  I wipe the sweat off my face, coming out of the elevator towards my dorm. It's been weeks since the pledge party and I've managed to avoid almost everyone, even Celeste.

  Caleb has been missing from my Latin class. Apparently, he's dropped it from his schedule. I should have too—since professor Wessex is an asshole—but I enjoy the language, so I’ll just deal with the prick. Taylor has been busy with Knights’ stuff, and while Celeste has been trying to get time with me, she spends most of her time with Justin.