Page 87 of Kortlek

Seeing him angry is something I’m used to, but this? This goes above anything I’ve ever witnessed. His body shakes from the immense amount of rage, his eyes wide and bloodshot. Wyatt raises his hand, and it connects with my cheek. The impact creates a loud sound, echoing in the room. My head is sent flying to the side as I lift my fingers to touch the spot where he hit me.

Then, a deep, throaty laugh comes from me. It’s unlike anything he’s ever heard from me, and for a moment, the anger seems to take the backseat, and a flicker of genuine fear appears on his face.

Gotcha, motherfucker.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Why do these things happen at night?

The place is deserted. Aside from a few teenage boys trying to hide behind the bleachers and smoke some weed, there’s no one in sight. To be fair, they’re well hidden; they’re just too fucking loud. That was the main reason Arlo suggested we check the school grounds first, because of how obnoxiously loud the kids were being.

He gives the two kids a good scolding, and the two are terrified. Well, who wouldn’t be if two tall, rather well-built men with guns in their hands approached them? They seem scared, though they don’t voice it out. Instead, they nod to whatever nonsense Arlo’s spouting, then scurry off, tossing their joints to the ground.

“Do you think he’ll go through with the threat of killing Rose?”

Arlo’s question makes me give him a brief glance as we leave the school grounds and head to the park. It’s just across the street, with no cars or people in sight. There’s not a single house in sight, either. The school is rather in a secluded spot, deemed one of the safer areas of the city.

“No.’’

The wind annoys me, my eyes watering a little in the cold. I didn’t bring my jacket with me, and the weather’s been unpredictable all day. It stopped raining as soon as we left his apartment, but the mud on my shoes is a good indicator of how heavy the rain was.

“Do you think he’ll appear here?”

His questions make me pause to think.

Everything I know about Wyatt is either from what Aria told me, what Arlo told me, or what I managed to find myself. He’s a shady prick, always has been.

However, I don’t think he’ll kill Rose. Even Jackson wasn’t his doing. Did he order it? Most likely. He’s trying to assert non-existent dominance and has found a circle of utter and complete imbeciles that would do anything for his approval.

Even before he met Aria, he’d been an insufferable bastard, but I highly doubt he’d ever have the balls to pull the trigger himself.

His mother abandoned him when he was a toddler, which is probably where his hatred toward women stems from. His mommy issues caused it all; it’s why he treated Aria so fucking terribly. The mere thought makes me want to strangle him with my bare hands, pull his tongue out, gouge his eyes out, and then probably use a butcher knife to slice up all his limbs and toss them to the pigs.

But I can’t.

I promised Aria I’d let her handle it.

I’m not sure when the fuck I became such a good boy to be listening to anyone, but somehow, since it’s Aria, I don’t mind. She could tell me to jump off a bridge, and I’d ask which one. It’s pathetic, but being pathetic is something I’ll gladly be if it means she’ll be happy.

Which is why Wyatt is hers to deal with. It angers me, but I know deep down that if I interfere, she’ll never forgive me. Wyatt wants to take her back desperately, and somehow, the answer to Arlo’s question displeases me.

“No,’’ I breathe out. “I don’t think he’ll be here.’’

“Do you think he’ll be stupid enough to go to my place and try to take her?”

I shake my head. “Definitely no. He doesn’t have the guts to do that.’’

“Something feels fucking off,’’ Arlo comments, and I agree.

The park is empty as expected, but there’s something that just pisses me off about this whole scene. The branch snaps somewhere behind me, and I immediately turn around, the gun in my hand. The park is covered with security cameras since it’s connected to the school across the road, but I don’t have the time to worry about that.

Arlo and I exchange a glance, and he nods. Then, he takes the opposite side of me. He walks off, and I start moving forward. My eyes thoroughly scan the place, but unfortunately, I wasn’t trained to be an assassin from an early age.

The keen sense of hearing is the De Santis trait.

My trait is killing people with my fists.

Well, I do use weapons during Kortlek just so I don’t risk anything, but I’d rather deal with insignificant pests with my bare hands. There’s nothing quite like feeling the bones snap under my hands, warm blood coating my flesh — it’s what keeps me going.

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