Page 122 of Deceit

FUCK!

This wasn’t the plan. I wasn’t supposed to fall for her. Even when I decided hating her would be futile, I thought we could be amicable. Have a friendship of sorts and I was even willing to allow her to see the guys, even if saying the words out loud tasted like ash on my tongue. The truth is, I think realization hit me at that very moment. The one where a small voice in my head jumped out and asked, ‘What if you could be enough? What if having you and you having her was all you two needed?’

I squashed that inner voice to dust, because we both know that’s not how that would go down. I want to be selfish. I want to steal her away from all of them, keep her tucked away and safe. It’s obvious that currently, there isn’t any room in her heart for me. There’s no room left.

If I ban her from ever seeing them again, if I kept her locked away in a cage, she would only hate me, not love them less. As much of a monster as I’m sometimes portrayed to be, I’m not completely heartless. I know me being selfish would hurt Ronan and Liam…I don’t really give a fuck about Vincent to be honest,but most of all I’d be hurting her. I’ve already hurt her enough. I don’t want to inflict more pain. She doesn’t deserve it.

So, I’ll be the one that suffers. Once we’re married, she will be able to live at least, for the most part, happily ever after with her boyfriends. I’ll go out, get black out drunk and lose myself in whatever wet and willing hole is up for the taking that night. It won’t really matter in the end, none of them will be her, so none of them will be worth a fucking damn.

My phone buzzes in my hand, and despite it only being ten minutes I had hoped it was Hutchinson. Unfortunately, it’s the devil incarnate himself.

“Hello, father,” I greet.

“Asher, how are things coming along?”

“Things are going well. How about with you?”

“All good here. You staying out of trouble?” he asks, a heavy warning lacing his words. I’m actually thankful that I’m able to be honest at the moment. Lying to him is always a tossup, he is too well versed at bullshitting. It only works maybe forty percent of the time.

“Actually, I am. Skyla and I have been spending more time together. She’s actually pretty great, I see why you selected her for me.”

“Really?” he says, surprise evident in his tone. “Well, isn’t that delightful to hear. She’s such a good girl, isn’t she? So pretty and polite. Just watch that you conceal that fire. Her mother had it, just the same and look how that ended for her.”

I nod, hating that Skyla has revealed that side of herself to him already. He sees her as a threat. Not outright, but a potential wild card which is almost worse.

“Whatever Henry did seems to have stuck, she’s extremely obedient once you break her down a little. Like a wild mustang,” I compare, my stomach turning at the bullshit comment.

My father barks out a laugh.

“Aren’t they all.”

“I’ve been wanting to ask, why are we moving up the ceremony? I can make my assumptions, but why hold off on the actual wedding itself? Isn’t the ceremony usually held in conjunction with the wedding?”

The phone goes silent. It extends for so long I almost think we lost connection when he speaks. There’s no humor in his voice, no emotion. Just careful calculation.

“Because, I deemed it so.”

I struggle to come up with just the right response when he continues.

“Who the hell do you think you are? If I tell you to slit that girl’s pretty little neck in the middle of the courtyard, you’ll do it with a goddamn smile on your face!” he snarls. “I am your king! I am your god! If I command it, it is done. End of discussion.”

“Of course, father,” I concede quickly, doing my best to de-escalate the situation. “My apologies. I was merely curious.”

“It is not your job to be curious,” he continues. “Your job is to keep things in order at the university, staff and students included. Your job is to keep yourself and your fiancée out of trouble. Your job is to do as you’re fucking told! I’m gifting you a virgin bride, one of the finest you could ever dream of, before your actual wedding. All that should be coming out of your ungrateful mouth is ‘Thank you’.”

I hold my tongue, waiting for him to finish his tirade before he blows out a ragged breath.

“I thought I raised you better than this. Maybe I’ve given you too much power too soon. Maybe this is too great of a reward.”

“I apologize, father. I know, you only have myself and the Brethren’s best interests in mind.”

“Hmm,” he hums, like he isn’t sure if I’m bullshitting him or not.

Honestly, maybe it works fifty percent of the time because I think I’m getting better at it.

“Thank you,” I add on. “For Skyla. She really is better than I could have imagined.”

Shit. I definitely shouldn’t have included that last piece.

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