Page 110 of Demise

“At least let me make it look like I’m taking her home for our parents,” Liam says as he begins guiding Maryia out of the party.

Maggie and I loop our arms together as Asher waits for us a few steps away. I move as carefully as I can, feeling the journal moving with each breath I take as Christopher and my father intersect us.

“Are you kids off?” Christopher asks, almost in a jovial way.

What the fuck is up with him and my dad today?

“We are. Skyla isn’t feeling well, and I have a big presentation in class tomorrow,” Asher answers.

Christopher nods. “Good man. I hope you feel better soon,” he says to me before leaning in and pressing a lingering kiss to my cheek.

Fear ratchets inside me. The item I’m currently concealing on my body is his most prized possession. Does he know I have it? Can he sense it? That’s ridiculous, of course not. Then again, the Brethren is filled with nothing but surprises.

When he pulls away, there is no suspicion is in his gaze, only that creepy way that he always watches me. My father leans in, giving me a matching kiss on the other cheek before they nod at us and turn as one, like the weird little culty duo they are.

Asher turns, leading the way for us, when I feel Maggie stop walking. Her eyes are on a woman in a bombshell red dress with sleek black hair down to her ass. I’d recognize that hair anywhere, and when those bright blue eyes snap towards us, or more accurately so, Maggie, I can practically feel the tension from here.

An old white haired man has his arm around her, his hand dangerously low to her ass. Bridgette looks uncomfortable with it, but also like she’s been in this position a million times. She gives Maggie a sad shrug as she turns back to face the conversation.

“Mags?” I ask carefully.

She doesn’t respond, I don’t even think she sees or hears anyone but Bridgette. Bridgette and that man.

“Maggie?” I ask again, forcing her gaze to snap to me. “Are you okay?”

She closes her eyes for a second, shaking her head before looking to me again, pasting on a fake as fuck smile.

“I’m great. Never better. Let’s go.”

I hesitate for a moment until I feel the journal slip a little further. I can comfort my friend from the safety of Asher’s car, or maybe on facetime. I know I have to get home immediately, andI also know Maggie doesn’t want to talk about it, so we’re gonna put a pin into that little moment because the way they looked at each other…that’s not how you look at anex-lover.

All of our cars pull up to the valet, and we begin filing in, though Maggie and Liam make a clean exchange of Maryia like she’s smuggled goods before he jumps into the car with Ronan and they take off. Asher, Wesley, and I are right behind them, and Maggie’s car is the last to leave.

I rest my hand against the bottom of the journal the entire way home, and when we get to the house, Liam makes a beeline for his room, shutting his door with a loud bang. I look to Asher in concern, but he just shakes his head.

“Let him process.”

“Process what?” I ask.

He hesitates for a moment before speaking.

“He’ll tell you if he wants to, if he’s ready.”

I frown at that, but nod as I grip the front of my dress, or more accurately, the journal a little tighter as I make my way up the stairs. When I turn into my room, none of the guys say anything, and I’m grateful because I swiftly lock the door, pull out the journal and begin devouring every single page.

Chapter Thirty Six

Vincent

It’s an hour or so before sunrise when I make it back to Salem, driving straight over to Skyla’s house. I didn’t even stop off at one of my properties for a change of clothes. As soon as I turned eighteen, I began buying up property all over the world. Some in my name…most not. Like fuck was I ever going to stay on campus willingly.

I need to see her, though. I feel like my flesh is about to literally crawl off my body. Two weeks…it might as well have been two years. I refuse to be gone from her for this long again. Next time, she’s coming with me. I don’t give a fuck what anyone says about it.

There were several people of interest I was sent to investigate overseas. A majority of the time I was in Monaco, France and two days in Spain. All points of interest were eliminated days ago, but Christopher forced me to stay put to let the heat die down first. It made no sense other than he didn’t want me in Salem. Which I don’t like one fucking bit. The calculated motherfucker has to be up to something.

I forget all about that in one breath. As soon as I set eyes on my siren, it all floats away. I sneak through her balcony doors like usual, though I could technically use the key from the front door. I like it better this way. She is the person I want to see first, not some fucker downstairs with his hands down his pants.

She’s sleeping heavily, her chest slowly moving up and down, her breathing virtually silent. I’m surprised she’s alone. With four other boyfriends, it’s a rarity to ever get alone time with her, and for her to sleep alone? An extinct concept, or so I thought.

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