Page 174 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

Murder isn’t easy. It’s fucking difficult...and that’s just getting to the point where you’ve agreed to pull the metaphorical trigger. The act itself?

I know I have darkness inside me. I know where it comes from. But killing Lorenzo was so much harder than I thought. I’ll never regret doing it—I don’t live in the past—but I wish it had gone smoother.For one, I wish Nim fucking Winters hadn’t been there to witness it.

But I can’t change that. None of us can. We can only move forward.

Mason’s jacket is twenty sizes too big for her, but it does an admirable job of keeping her covered. From a distance it probably looks like she’s wearing a thigh-length dress.

Up close, she looks like our prisoner. Ourcaptive.That shouldn’t excite me as much as it does, but I’ve stopped fighting the darkness inside me a long time ago.

The Falls itself is less of a waterfall and more of a persistent flow of water down the side of a black mountain. When you stand on the small island in the middle of the wide, shallow stream that runs from the Falls to Scarstone Lake some hundred yards away, it looks like hot tar cascading down the black rock.

This island isn’t some lush little paradise, though...it’s a mummified beach.

Soft, gray sand. A cluster of dead, bony-white trees reaching with skeletal fingers for an uncaring sky. A few rocks scattered about.

Legend has it this island is where the Black Hart died. That’s why nothing grows on this patch of soft sand anymore. Why there are never any insects or birds or animals here.

There’s a blackened fire pit surrounded by smooth white pebbles nearby. Students came here to drink and fuck...but that was before the Galantis took over the frat house nearby.

I don’t know what’ll happen with this stretch of land once they’ve moved out. Obviously a new frat or sorority will take over the building in a week or two—soon as I’ve decided which one. Honestly, I couldn’t care. I’m not a fan of Greek life. I prefer tohaveallthe students under my control, not just a handful who pledge. But things are changing around here—hopefully for the better, but I can’t be sure of that. Mason and Silas and I...we can’t stay here forever. We have less than a year to get our shit done, and then we’ll have to move on.

What happens after we’ve left...that’s anyone’s guess.But our four-year reign was good…up until now.

“This place gives me the fucking creeps,” Mason mutters. I almost roll my eyes at him, but Nim is looking my way and I don’t want her to think that I’m human even for a second.

Monsters are always more terrifying than humans.

I snap my fingers toward a patch of gray sand a few yards away. “Get her on her knees.”

Mason chuckles when Nim goes pale. Silas comes to stand beside me, but for once he’s not wearing a full-on scowl. Instead, he watches the girl like he’s wondering what trick she’s going to pull next.

“Did you get it?” I ask quietly.

He taps his pocket.”Of course.”

“And?”

“It’s…comprehensive.”

“She just can’t help herself, can she?” I say as we watch Mason forcing Nim to her knees in the soft sand. He pets her head, cooing. The hatred in her eyes makes it obvious how she feels about being treated like a pet.

“I get that feeling too.” Silas turns a little as if he doesn’t want Nim to read his lips. “She doesn’t know who sponsored her.”

“Or she just didn’t want to tell you.”

“No.” Silas’s blue eyes bore into me. When he’s outside, they often reflect the color of the sky. Right now, they’re the same frigid blue. “She has no fucking clue.”

I bite at the inside of my bottom lip, fixing him with a stare. “None?”

He cocks his head. “Why would her parents keep a secret like that from her?”

“That’s not the only thing they kept from her.”

Another crease forms between Silas’s brows as I fill him in on the conversation I overheard in the library yesterday. I wasn’t intentionally keeping it from them—we haven’t really had much time to talk. When we did, the two of them were prattling on about their family visits today.

Not that I’mnotglad I went home. Of course I am. It was a much-needed breath of fresh air in what’s swiftly becoming a very toxic environment. But I don’t have the propensity for chit-chat like they do. Sometimes I wonder if I’m missing out on the social element of college life. Then I remember I have better things to do.

Like Nim.

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