Page 40 of Deviant

I remember something else about that particular time, too—how Rowen clung to Nora as if she were her lifeline. No, not lifeline…her very reason for being.

It was fucking creepy and weird as shit, but at the time, I just assumed that the poor kid was traumatized and dealing with her mom’s death the best way she could. I was even proud of my kid sister for being mature enough at such a young age to be there for her friend.

If only I knew then what I know now.

Fine.

So the Hawthorne family has suffered its fair share of disappointment and loss, but those fuckers owe me a debt that they can never fully repay.

Rowen owes me for murdering Nora, and her prick of a father owes me for covering it up.

Suicidal overdose, my ass.

Nora would never touch any drug, much less fentanyl.

I know…knewmy sister.

She was a health junkie and would never poison her body with any such thing.

Fuck me.

I lost count of all the times Nora would leave pamphlets lying all around the house about how cigarettes kill millions a year just to get me to quit smoking.

The thing is… I never had the heart to tell her that living in Blackwater Falls meant our lives were already forfeited one way or another. Breathing in an array of toxins from cigarettes was far less harmless in comparison to the cancer that living in this town provoked within our psyche. A lesser mind would go bonkers just thinking about it.

Luckily for me, my mind is a fucking fortress that no one can corrupt that easily.

Well… maybe one can.

Rowen Hawthorne springs to mind.

She’s sure been doing a number on my head lately.

But she’ll get hers in the end.

I’ll make sure to collect my debt—in blood.

Chapter 8

Elias

I’m three beers in when I hear a car unexpectedly approach the driveway.

I don’t bother standing up from the patio couch to see who it could be. I’ve heard the hum of Rowen’s car engine enough times over the years to recognize it by heart.

A few seconds later, her wild chestnut hair comes into view, confirming my suspicion. Still, I continue to stare at the horizon, ignoring her completely. My silence doesn’t seem to faze her at all as she leans against the porch rail in front of me, a small patio table being the only barrier between us.

“If you came looking for your boyfriend, you could have spared the ride over. He’s not here,” I finally say, ending the odd, silent match we seemed to have been playing.

“I figured as much,” she replies, unbothered.

“You figured as much?” I parrot in amusement, suddenly curious about why she’s here, if she already knew Aidan wasn’t home.

“Hmm,” she nods. “If I’m not mistaken, he’s probably over at Mackenzie’s right now.”

Well, I’ll be damned.

Maybe she’s not as clueless as I thought.

---