Page 8 of Lethal Truths

More questions. They seem never-ending lately.

“Serene Acres, this is Lauren. How can I help you?” a soft voice answers, pulling me from my wandering mind.

I have to clear my throat before anything comes out. This is so beyond wrong. I’m not just stepping over the line, I’m obliterating it. Prudence’s wounded expression when I took that call flashes in my mind, making me hesitate for a moment, but ultimately I shove it away. It’s my future I’m ensuring here, my life. Doesn’t matter how badly she gets hurt in the process.

“Hi, uh, I wanted to schedule a visit to one of your patients. Irene Sexton?” I explain, trying to keep the nerves out of my voice.

There’s a long pause, only interrupted by the faint clicking of a keyboard. “Are you family?” she asks warily.

“Yes, she’s my aunt. I’ve been out of the loop for a while, studying abroad, and I’ve only just learned about where she’s been… um, staying.” I wince at myself, wishing I had spent some time practicing my story before jumping headfirst into this.

“I see… And your name?”

“Ashland Michaels,” I reply without thinking, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Though we haven’t spoken in a long time, and with her, you know, her condition, she may not even remember me,” I add, feeling more and more like a piece of shit. Using her mom’s illness against Prudence is the ultimate low, and I’m not sure there’s any coming back from it. I try to tell myself that I’ll be rich enough for years of therapy with the best shrink after this, and then I can work through the lingering emotions over what I’m doing to her. I’ll be fine.

The woman on the phone hums, and more clicking filters in through the phone. With a sigh, she says, “I’m sorry, but you aren’t on her approved list of visitors. You’ll have to speak with her psychiatrist before I can add you.” She rattles off a phone number where I can reach the guy, and then promptly ends the call.

I frown down at my cell clutched in my hand. Fuck. Well, I’m one step forward and two steps back, but it’s fine. It just means this will take longer to fulfill. More time with my feisty pet. I groan, dismissing the thought. It doesn’t matter how much I enjoy our brutal games or her surprising bite, she’s a problem that needs taken care of.

Just as I’m about to set my phone down, a text dings and I scowl at the thinly veiled threat from my father. He’s been up my fucking ass all day, pushing me to do better, reminding me of what’s at stake should I fail. My initiation class is the first in generations to take so damn long with their task, and it’s reflecting poorly on me. To say he’s less than happy with my lack of results is a vast understatement.

I thought I’d get this done quickly and finally earn his respect. I thought he’d take me under his wing after I initiated, proud to welcome me into the inner workings of The Celestials. But with each day that passes, my dad has only grown more hostile and disappointed, and it’s feeding into my bitter resentment toward the redhead at the root of it all.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I tip my head back and try to plan my next moves. Between my growing hunger and my piss poor mood, though, I can’t think straight. Giving up with an irritated sigh, I push away from my light wood desk and stand. There’s not much I can do about my attitude right now, but my stomach can be dealt with, at least.

I wander out of my room and down the three flights of stairs until I get to the kitchen, and then I freeze. A shock of red hair pulled up in a messy ponytail catches my eye and I slow my steps to keep them silent as I move further into the room. Prudence hasn’t ventured this far out of Creed’s room on her own since she showed up on the porch, pale and bleeding.

Part of me wants to check her over, make sure she’s truly alright, but that’s the side of myself I have to shut off until I get this task completed. Prudence almost died in that forest, and it awoke a fiercely protective monster in me, whether I like it or not. Instead of going to her with gentle hands and soft words, though, I channel that pent up, restless energy into punishing her.

It’s her fault I’m in this chaotic shitstorm in the first place. If she never showed up at Blackwood University, I wouldn’t have had to push myself to these inhumane extremes. Griffin wouldn’t have shut me out. Creed wouldn’t have any distractions. Heather would still be enough to get me hard.

Everything that’s gone wrong in my life these last few months has been her fucking fault. And if I fail, my death will be on her hands next. Does she realize that? Would she even care? I take in a slow breath, fanning the fires of my rage, reminding myself once again that it’s her or me. So I’m sorry, pet, truly. But you’ve gotta go.

She’s so lost in whatever she’s cooking at the stove that I’m right behind her with a hand wrapped tight around her ponytail before she even realizes she’s no longer alone. I wrench her head back, curling my lips in distaste as she hisses in pain.

“Where’s your guard dog, Prudence?” I say quietly, my voice rough and sharp. “Is Creed tired of you already?”

“Fuck off,” she snaps back, trying to get away from me. All it does it pull on her hair, and a pained whimper slips from her lips.

I can’t stop myself from gazing at them. The last time I saw Prudence, she was in a much worse state, her arms and throat deeply bruised and her bottom lip split and puffy. She’s not back to perfect health yet, the yellowing of the fading bruises proof of that. But her lips are healed and plump and pink, and I catch myself licking my own as I stare at them.

I click my tongue at her, stepping more firmly into her body, her back to my chest with her head pulled back far enough to lock eyes with me. “Such a nasty attitude, pet. What am I going to do with you?” I ask, though my voice comes out raspier than I mean.

Prudence tries, yet again, to get free, and it only pisses me off more. In one swift move, I release her hair and spin her around, caging her in against the counter behind her. We’re so close that I can see the spattering of gold her in hazel eyes. The color deepens with her outrage, and it’s so fucking hypnotizing. I should really piss her off more, just so I can watch that sunburst color expand.

What am I saying? All I ever do is piss little Prudence Cate off.

“What the hell do you want, Asher? I’m in no mood for your shit today,” she grits out, her muscles as stiff as a board. One deep breath, and her tits would be brushing against my chest.

Cocking my head, I let an amused smile play on my lips. “Are you ever in the mood for me?” I ask sarcastically. We both know the answer. I’m pretty sure she’d happily suffocate me in my sleep if she thought she could get away with it. “I didn’t give you permission to go and get yourself beat to shit,” I tell her. “You almost died before I could have all my fun. Now I have to punish you.” I pause, my smile taking on a darker edge. “Maybe I’ll drag you out to the woods again and show you how lucky you got last time.”

Her expression quickly morphs from bitter indignation to agonized terror, and fuck me, it almost has me backing away to give her some breathing room. I don’t, of course, but I seriously think about it. Christ, I’m going soft.

“Please,” she whispers shakily. “Just let me go, Asher. I can’t…” she trails off, shaking her head solemnly. “You win, okay? I can’t keep fighting you at every turn. I’ve had enough. Everything fucking hurts, and I’m barely holding myself together, and I—“

“Shhh, pet,” I rumble, lifting one hand to grip her throat lightly, tilting her chin up with my thumb. “You don’t make the rules. We’re done when I say so,” I remind her gently, giving her slender neck a small squeeze. Her rough swallow beneath my palm nearly has me coming in my jeans, which shocks the shit out of me because I hadn’t even noticed how hard my cock was. “And I’ve only gotten started. You think I’ve been awful? Baby, I’m going to show you just how nice I’ve been up until now.”

“I despise you,” she bites out, though the cut of her words is softened by the silent tear that slips free and trails down her porcelain cheek.

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