Page 60 of The Devil Takes

My neck.

My goddamn fucking naked neck.

I slapped a hand over my bare bond bite, terrified when the touch of my bare palm confirmed my worst fears had come true. After a year of meticulous caution I’d finally, inevitably fucked myself over. I’d never replaced the bandage the doctor had removed earlier.

I’d been too angry to think as I’d stormed my way over here to end things for good.

And now my worst nightmare was about to become reality.

“Percy,” Marv said, his voice small and sad. And that simple utterance of my name made a cold chill run through my body. He’d never said my name like that before. Forlorn. Like he was mourning me already. I’d fucked up. He knew it. I knew it. We both knew the outcome of this, and I could already picture both my brothers in black, my grave devoid of flowers because neither of them had ever had Mom’s green thumb.

The second Dad saw the bite, I was as good as dead.

And it was inevitable now.

There was silence.

My pulse was a steady staccato.

Thump, thump, thump.

Lap, lap, lap went the water that licked at my toes.

It only took another second for me to realize that covering the bite with my hand had been the stupidest thing I’d ever done. Maybe I could’ve gotten away with it. With ignoring it. Dad was almost ten feet away. If he hadn’t gotten any closer, he may never have even noticed. But, like an idiot, I’d brought attention to the mark—and all it took was one rough inhale from behind me for me to realize I was a dead man.

“Oh, Percy.” Marv’s voice was laced with sadness as I met his gaze and we both turned toward the oncoming storm. My mother’s soft brown eyes looked back at me from his face. Full of pity, regret, fear. But not for him. No. For me. Regret for what was about to happen, and the fact he couldn’t stop it. Looking at Dad now was like staring at an oncoming train. But I couldn’t help myself. I tipped my head up and met his eyes. Fear unlike anything I’d ever felt before drowned my lungs till they were waterlogged and my throat and ears were clogged.

Buck stood up, clearly sensing something bad had happened. “What?” He turned to look at me, immediately zeroing in on the hand I still had clutching my bond mark protectively. Remorse flooded his gaze as well, and he turned back to face Dad, his broad shoulders stiff.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” I said quietly, old habits rising to the surface. Placate, apologize, survive. It didn’t feel like a lie either. It didn’t mean anything. It meant everything. There was a difference.

“It doesn’t mean anything, Dad.” Marv agreed quickly. His bulk still blocked the door, and I knew I only had seconds to escape if I was going to get a head start. There was no doubt my dad would give chase. I’d tarnished his property, after all. Done the one thing he told me he’d never forgive. This would end in blood, and weirdly enough the thought soothed me.

The promise of violence was familiar.

At least for me.

Falling into fear felt like coming home.

Marv still blocked my only exit.

Move, move, move, I pleaded with my eyes, but Marv was still staring at Dad, not me.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” he repeated. “Right, Percy?”

I didn’t know what else to say. I’d already spoken my piece. I could lie over and over but we all knew this would only end one way. Marv’s lips thinned as he waited, and the longer I sat in silence, the more the sadness in his eyes morphed into something else. Resignation.

The doorknob clicking open was far too loud in the awkward silence, but it wasn’t my hand that had turned it.

Marv’s big brown eyes said goodbye as he shoved the door open, and Buck turned around in one swift twist to shove me out of it.

The last glimpse I had of either of them as I stumbled down the steps was one I’d seen often enough as a kid. Broad shoulders side by side. A mirrored silhouette as they squared off against my dad, and the door that I’d kept open on this chapter of my life slid shut with finality.

* * *

I couldn’t go home. Not when Dad knew where I lived. Tommy was out of the question. I refused to be the reason he got hurt—because I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to jump in front of my dad to save me. So I didn’t visit him either.

Logic dictated I run a different course.

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