Page 42 of Savage Vicious Heir: Part Two

“Oh God, Abi.”

“Fine, I’m fine.”

Except, I don’t feel fine. My head feels too big for my shoulders and everything is spinning.

“He’s going to kill us,” Tally says.

“W-who?” I ask but the words are quiet and slurred.

“Oak is on his way,” someone else says.

But I feel too sick to focus. Too tired and disoriented.

Maybe if I close my eyes for a little while, I can sleep it off.

Shadows dance across my vision as darkness floods in.

But I welcome it.

After all, it’s where I’ve always belonged.

11

ELLIOT

The party rages around me, but I might as well be sitting alone in the Chapel for how much it excites me.

I’ve always known that I’m broken. Dad and Scott have made sure to always point out my flaws and how I’ll never stand up to them. But since looking up to find Abi’s heart shattering before my very eyes in that pub last week, it’s worse than ever. And I fear it could be irreparable.

I should be enjoying myself with my boys. I have them all to myself. It’s what I’ve craved since they all started falling in love and losing themselves to their girls. I just wanted another night of just us. A night like all those we planned in the lead-up to our final year at All Hallows’. But I can’t find it within me to enjoy it.

I haven’t touched a sip of alcohol. I’m not interested. Yeah, it might numb everything. But I don’t want that. I want to suffer. I want the pain.

I watch everyone as they chat with their friends, laugh, dance. That should be me. I should be out there living up my last few weeks of this.

I’m going to blink and all of this will be over. The next Heirs will be ripping out any evidence of our reign from this building and making it theirs.

Our time here will be nothing but a memory. One that is going to end with pain and regret for me.

Fuck. It wasn’t meant to be like this.

One girl wasn’t meant to have the power to finally sever the thin threads that were holding me together.

But here we are.

My eyes land on my boys. They’re in the kitchen with a few other members of the team. Each of them has beers in their hands and even from here, I can see that their eyes are alight with happiness.

That should be me.

I should be up there with them.

My fists curl, my short nails pressing into my skin.

It’s not enough.

Nothing ever is.

I haven’t relapsed since that day in the shower.

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