Page 46 of The Devil Within

“Want a drink?” he asks as his ice-blue eyes land on my face. His eyes are unsettling when he looks like this; his irises appear sharp in their coldness.

“Garett, it’s the middle of the night and you dragged me all the way out here. What’s up?” I say in the most even tone I can muster.

“So sorry, brother. Were you balls deep in some pussy? Celeste keeping your cock nice and warm?”

I feel my anger boiling up. I know he’s trying to rile me, and it’s fucking working. I do my best to remain cool, at least outwardly.

“Is that why you called me over here? To tell me you haveblue balls?” I quip back at him. There was a point in time when I wouldn’t have minded helping him out with that, but now I belong to two feisty women, both of whom deserve my complete and unyielding loyalty.

Something dark flashes across his cerulean irises before they return to their normal pale blue. A smirk pulls at the corner of his lips as he rises. He walks across the room to his bar, pours himself another few fingers of expensive liquor, and turns back around. Leaning against the wall behind him, he takes a long swig as he glares at me over the rim of the glass. His dark hair is unkempt, falling across his forehead and eyes. I instinctually push mine back, making sure it’s tidy and neat.

“It has been a while, maybe I should pay Celeste a visit. She was a good fuck.” His tone is condescending. He knows he hit a sore spot.

I run my thumb along my jaw, scrapping at the stubble there to stop myself from forming an angry fist. I know what he’s doing and despite my best efforts, it’s working. He’s already under my skin.

“You and your dirty dick are going nowhere near her ever again.”

His smirk spreads. “Come on, brother. Didn’t you enjoy sharing that little piece of ass?” He spins, giving me his back as he grabs a second glass and begins to pour more whiskey. “Don’t tell me you’ve become attached to your play thing.”

This asshole.

“Not sure how Ali will feel when she hears about how you fucked her co-worker,” I spit at him.

I know it’s a low blow, but he deserves it. He’s been pushing my buttons on purpose. I watch as the muscles of his back tense. He rolls his neck side to side and the joints crack.

His voice is deadly low when he finally responds, “She will not find out about that. She, along with everyone else, thinks Celesteis dead. Once they finally get enough evidence on Brody, he will be put away and arrested for her murder. And that’s all Ali willeverknow about it.”

This is his plan for revenge on Brody. Brody, Will, and the others tortured us and countless others. Their victims deserve revenge. The law was never going to provide the justice we all deserve, so we took matters into our own hands. Garett decided a quick death would be too good for Brody. Brody took so much from him—both his sister and the girl he’s loved since childhood. His sister didn’t survive, and Garett vowed to protect Ali, at any cost, after that. Brody is going to rot away in prison, watching his life perish day by day.

He turns around and stalks toward me with fire in his eyes. “Understood?”

“No one has to know anything, as long as you stay the hell away from my girls.”

I accept the glass he offers me. The alcohol burns as it slides down my throat before settling and leaving a smoky aftertaste coating my mouth. It’s a good whiskey. He might be a crazy motherfucker, but he knows his liquor.

“Girls?” he asks with an emphasis on the final syllable.

Shit.

I shoot him a warning glare but he just chuckles. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to judge you and your harem.”

Fucker.

“So, what is it that couldn’t wait until the morning?” I prompt as I take another sip.

“Kyle is dead.”

I choke on my drink. Cough and sputtering as I attempt to wrap my head around what he just said. Kyle is one of Brody and Will’s gang of rapist assholes. He is—was—one of the only ones left on our list to eliminate. Only, we didn’t kill him. So who did?

“How?” I manage to ask between coughs.

“No clear cause of death. The dead and mutilated body they found decomposing outside the funhouse after Halloween? They just confirmed the identification.”

I remember hearing about that. It freaked people out but the investigators were tight lipped about the details.

“Why’d the ID take so long?” I question.

“I guess his body was real fucked up. Reports describe him looking shriveled, like his insides were sucked out of him.” Garett shrugs and takes another sip before flopping back down on the sofa.

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