Page 7 of Depraved Desires

Last I knew, she was pissed off at him due to the photo Aspen sent her, but then they seemed to be getting somewhat close again. I wasn’t too concerned with it when everything went downhill though and wasn’t sure if Hunter had kept in touch with her since or what the story on that was.

Hunter sighed and ran a hand down his face. “We’ve talked here and there, but she still seems upset over the whole thing.”

“Here’s an idea,” Foster cut in. “Why don’t you just leave the bitch alone? She was annoying and controlling anyways.” He had a point. Jessica and Hunter were always fighting. It was clear that the arguments were starting to weigh down on him, so why the hell did he want that back?

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” he mumbled.

Foster scoffed. “I think I’m theonlyone who understands. You’re too blinded by middle-grade pussy to think clearly.”

Hunter shot a glare his direction, his jaw ticking with annoyance. “What would you even know about ‘middle-grade pussy’?” He shot back.

Sighing, I walked over to the armchair resting near the bed and flopped down into it. Fighting wasn’t out of the norm for us, especially when it had to do with Foster. The dude had no filterand was extremely judgmental. I just wasn’t in the mood for this bullshit right now.

Foster shrugged. “She looks like someone who has middle-grade pussy. She’s a fucking slut.”

“Mother—”

“Enough!” I roared, bringing the conversation to an abrupt halt. When I had both of their attention, I continued. “You guys fight over the stupidest shit and now isn’t the time for it.”

I didn’t mind them being here because it kept my mind busy, but if all they were going to do was argue, then they could just fucking leave. It wasn’t making anything better.

Neither one of them bothered saying anything as they each looked at me with matching expressions of surprise. I didn’t shout very often, and I also didn’t speak up often, but something had to give. Maybe arguing was their way to cope with what had happened, but it was only making me more anxious.

Foster released a sigh and took a seat back on the edge of my bed. “You’re right. This is dumb.” A few seconds later, he began twirling his tongue ring around in his mouth, his gaze becoming distant as he lost himself to whatever thoughts he was conjuring up.

I wish I knew what they were thinking, but asking wasn’t an option. Foster never talked about his emotions; he just channeled them all into rage. Hunter, on the other hand, was more open, but he didn’t feel comfortable telling Foster or Myles how he felt because the two of them buried their own feelings and hid behind a mask.

“What if they start looking for her?” I questioned, images of what we did the other night resurfacing.

“They probably will,” Foster admitted. “But they won’t find any DNA on her. They’ll be lucky if she even has skin still attached to her.”

My stomach twisted in knots. He said it so casually. Like her life didn’t matter. I wasn’t just worried about getting caught. I was worried about my humanity. Foster had pushed her into the water like it meant nothing. He didn’t even blink. I don’t think I could have done it had it been me.

“They’ll probably just think they ran away,” Hunter added with a shrug. Despite his movements being careless, his eyes told a different story. The way they flicked to the floor as his jaw ticked with uncertainty. It was bothering him too; he just wouldn’t admit it.

“With all their stuff still in their rooms?” I countered, arching an eyebrow.

“There’s no point dwelling on the ‘what ifs,’” Foster cut in. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. In the meantime, we need to act normal.” He gave me a pointed look and I rolled my eyes.

Normal.

What was ‘normal’ anyways? I wasn’t sure I knew anymore. Because what we did definitely wasn’t normal. Not only did we kill someone, we tortured and raped her best friend right next to her and then killed her too. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get over this. It would be wrong if I did.

I didn’t say any of that though, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. We all seemed to be on separate pages. Then again, they’ve been through more shit than me. Foster especially. He probably had an iron gate wrapped around his heart.

How was I supposed to get back to normal? Was it even possible? I didn’t know the answer to those questions, and they’ve been weighing on me since it happened. I guess the only thing left for me to do was try….

CHAPTER THREE

Aspen

Everything hurt. My throat, my chest, my muscles, my eyes, my head,everything. I was no expert on death, but wasn’t it supposed to be painless once your heart stopped beating? Wasn’t I supposed to forfeit this body and slip down into the cracks of hell to atone for my sins? Maybe society had it all wrong after all.

Ormaybe…

I wasn’t dead at all.

With a pounding head, I pried my eyes open. Light immediately encased me, making me squint. A shudder rolled through me as confusion settled in. I knew I was supposed to be dead. Heaven or hell wasn’t a bedroom, that much I was sure of. My vision blurred as it tried to focus and when it did, my chapped lips parted in disbelief.

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