Page 2 of Lethal Truths

Unfortunately for her, that’s not gonna happen. Instead, I’ll be tossing her to the wolves once she’s finally broken. They’ll do whatever it is they want with her, and I won’t care. Not even a little… Nope.

Creed grits his teeth, offering me a jerky nod. I release him, satisfied that he won’t fuck anything up tonight. I won’t have the energy to fix his mistakes if he does. I follow him down the stairs, needing to grab another beer from the fridge. Stopping by the door, I offer him one last warning look. He rolls his shoulders back, holding my gaze as he reaches for the door and opens it. Almost like a challenge, a test to see if I really will let him find Prudence.

The problem is that while he’s staring at me, my eyes catch on the red hair and bloody body on the porch. Everything in me stops. My lungs constrict, my stomach plummets, my heart crawls up into my throat. All in a second of time. A moment later, when Creed turns to head outside, I snap into motion.

Creed stills, sucking in a sharp breath, but before he can lose his goddamn mind and murder every soul on campus in his wrath, I’m pushing him out of the way and kneeling beside Prudence. I’m numb and emotionless as I check her throat for a pulse, just going through the motions like I don’t fucking care either way. I can’t feel a heartbeat, though. Not on her pale, blood-specked neck and not on her torn up wrist either. I give up, instead reaching for her face to brush away the wet strands of hair matted there.

Two sides of me are warring in my mind. One thinking this is a blessing in disguise and the other mourning a girl who held memories that shouldn’t exist. I can’t hear a single thing as I study the deep gashes riddling her torso, the bruises around her neck, or the torn clothes barely covering her body.

Creed shoves me away from her, snarling like an animal when I try to straighten up again. As gently as I’ve ever seen him, he cradles Prudence’s limp body in his arms and stands, shooting me a feral glance. “This is on you,” he spits before carrying her up the stairs and presumably to his room.

She’s dead, I want to tell him, but I can’t find the energy. She’s gone and we’ve succeeded and yet somehow I feel hollow and tainted because of it.

Prudence made it out of the forest, just like I knew she would. She was supposed to rip my ass about it. I expected a fight, a full-blown, hysteric screaming match. I wanted to see the fire in her eyes while she did her best to cut me open with words. Hell, maybe she would have even slapped me. Pummeled me with those tiny fists, hurting me right back. Maybe I would have liked it.

Maybe I would have grabbed her wrists and pinned her against a wall while I let our bodies do all the fighting. She’d be tired and sated afterward, but still fired up, and I’d never hear the end of it. Hate sex is the best kind, though, and I could imagine all the new reasons to mess with her if only it let me between those thighs.

But that’s impossible now. Because someone went into the forest after I left. Someone helped themselves to my pet.

2

Creed

I’ve never felt more raw. It’s like I’ve scrubbed every inch of my body, inside and out, with steel wool and now I’m bleeding out. Just like her.

The trip from the front door to my room on the third floor is a blur. I don’t remember a single step I took. All I know is that time needs to stop. Just long enough for me to fix this. To bring her back to me.

Prudence gave herself to me last night. I’ve never had something to myself. I’ve never had someone look at me, past all the labels — crazy, nut case, psycho — and choose me despite all of that. She owns me now, whether she wants me or not, and I own her. I’ll never let this feeling go, never let her go. If she dies, I’ll be slitting my wrists and leaving this life right beside her.

“Come on, Ember, hold on for me,” I beg frantically as I kick in my bedroom door and rush inside. I’m careful as I set her on my bed, on top of the sheets I just got done washing. Seems she has a habit of bleeding in my room. It’s a morbid thought, but it’s my best effort at distracting myself from the very real possibility of Prudence suddenly being gone when I’ve only just decided she’s mine forever.

Kneeling beside her too pale body, smeared with dirt and drying blood, I once again check her pulse. My heart is beating sluggishly, like it’s trying to slow down and die with her. My mind is a busy, loud, chaotic mess and I can’t rein in my thoughts. I can’t hear or think or see straight. I can feel myself spiraling, going back into that colorless void where I lose control and do bad things.

But then I look at Prudence. Red hair, pink lips, long dark lashes, and the most adorable spattering of freckles over the bridge of her nose. It brings me back, refocuses me. She’s all the color I need.

Staring at Prudence, watching her chest for the smallest sign of life, I groan in agony and rake my teeth over my bottom lip. “Open your eyes, baby,” I whisper, trailing my gaze over her bruises and wounds. Whoever did this… whoever could mutilate a woman like this and leave her for dead… Shit, I’m a fucked up bastard in a fucked up secret society who give me fucked up orders all the time, but even I couldn’t do something like this.

I tip her head back and force myself to focus enough to start chest compressions. That’s what I’m supposed to do, right? Or do I try to stop the bleeding first? She’s falling apart in every aspect of the word, and I don’t know what the fuck to do about it. Calling a doctor isn’t an option. The Celestials have their fingers in every goddamn pie you could imagine, and the hospital here in Black Creek houses not one, but two Elders. Bringing her there would be the equivalent of signing her death warrant.

My throat is tight with panic, and tightening more with every second. I don’t know how long I’ve been doing compressions, begging for some color to bloom, for the smallest rise and fall of her chest. I can’t tell if it’s working. Closing my eyes, I drop my face to her chest, settling my ear over her heart. “Please, please, for the love of fucking Satan, please,“ I mumble quietly, my whole body shaking.

Then I hear it.

Thump, thump... Thump, thump... Thump, thump…

It’s slow, as if her heart is tired of trying so damn hard, but I’ll fucking take it. She’s alive. Sitting up in a flurry, knowing that I still have a chance of losing her if I don’t act fast, I rush out of my room, down the hall, and into the bathroom. Dropping to my knees on the cold tile floor, I fling the cabinet doors wide open and throw shit out as I dig for the first aid kit we keep on hand.

As I’m leaving the bathroom to head back to my bedroom and my dying girl, I nearly run right into Asher. His face is ashen, his eyes flat and hollow. He barely spares me a glance as he reaches for his bedroom door.

“Ash, I need help,” I plead, walking up to his side and slamming his half-open door shut once more. He starts to shake his head at me, dropping his eyes to the floor, but before he can mutter a single word, I grab a fist full of his black shirt and snarl in his face. “You’re responsible for this. If you hadn’t left her out there, if you didn’t bind her fucking wrists, none of this would have happened! And if you don’t help me drag Prudence back from the grasps of death, I will gut you and lie you to rest right beside her.”

Asher freezes, blinking at me like I’m speaking another language. He brushes a hand through his brown hair, stuttering, “She’s… not d-dead?”

Gritting my teeth, I release my cousin and walk the few feet to my room, calling over my shoulder, “Not yet. Not ever, if I can help it.”

Asher stumbles into my room behind me, staring at Prudence with wide, green eyes. I glance from him to her, and then focus on my task; getting this damn first aid kit opened and getting Prudence stitched and patched up as quick as possible. As long as her heart’s still beating, I can save her. As long as I can stop the blood flow, she’ll survive.

“Damn it!” I snap as my numb, shaky fingers fail me, and the contents of the kit go sprawling onto the floor.

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