Page 25 of The Depraved Prince
“You’ve been watching me all this time since that night at the club, haven’t you? You’re the stalker that’s been breaking into my house?” I accuse him.
All those nights, I woke up with a dreadful feeling. There was a shadow in my room watching me, but nothing ever ended up being there except for the gloomy possibility of me going crazy.
Hayden seizes his billion-dollar smile, and it transforms into something unreadable. “Yes…I despise Valkyrie’s so fucking much. I’ve been studying you like a parasite.”
He crushes the tape until it’s in pieces, making my body freeze. He grabs a strand of my hair and sniffs it, closing his eyes as he inhales, fangs slowly appearing over his bottom lip as the strands fall over. I pull away, my heart thundering as I stare at the sharp points.
“Get those things away from me,” I order him as my chin points high, putting on a fake façade of courage.
I’ve watched enough vampire movies to know how they use those things.
He frowns and licks his lips in disappointment, shrugging his shoulders. He’s still in an all-black suit as he stands. He loves wearing his suits.
Oh God, is he going to attack me?
He doesn’t pounce. Instead, his tall frame slips into the shadows with each step.
“No notifications from your mother,” he says.
I’m not surprised. She probably thinks I purposefully ran away from home, and I’m sure she’s not losing a minute of sleep over my disappearance.
Wait. How long has it been since I was out?
“How long have I been gone?” My voice shudders as my mind travels to the worst.
He grins. “Three days.” He walks further away from me, towards the other side of the wall, slipping into the shadows.Shades of red light come from a large stained-glass window, barely illuminating the room and giving it a soft glow.
I swallow, tightening my fists. It’s only been three days, and the ones who truly know me know this isn’t like me to ghost everyone.
“Let me go back home,” I whisper, shutting my eyes tight. My hands claw at the cold bedsheets underneath me. “Hayden…let me go.” I sob softly, begging the devil before me for sympathy.
I’m going to die. If those other vampires don’t kill me, I surely will die here…alone. I hate being alone.
“Go where? Home?” He teases wickedly. “This is your home now until you die.” He looks at me like I’m his favorite meal. I scrunch my nose in defiance.
“I’ll see you next moon, little Bambi,” he tells me as he disappears, closing the door in a blink of an eye.
9
HAYDEN
Dear Diary,
I’ve never told anyone this, but…Santiago hit my mom when I was a freshman in high school. I didn’t see it. I was too busy with homework, studying hard for my next exam in the living room. Nash stood up so fast from his bedroom, facing theirs across the hall. He charged towards them. Each step of his was loud and indignant, his balled fists at his side like he was ready to beat Santiago into a pulp. I stopped writing, holding my pencil in trembling hands, afraid of what would come next. Santiago locked the bedroom door on him before Nash could confront him. Nash banged on their door, cursing and threatening to kill him if he ever hit my mother again. Needless to say, Santiago didn’t open the door, and my mother made excuses for his actions the next day, pardoning him and giving Santiago another chance hedidn’t deserve. That was the last time Nash stayed at my mother’s place and left for my father’s. He moved there, and I stayed.
Because how could I leave my mother with Santiago?
She’s going to need someone, I thought—a shoulder to cry on when he hurts her again mentally. But…even I had my breaking point. I left when he broke all my snow globes. I started my collection again, but it’s not the same. But mostly, I left when my mother decided that her relationship was more important. She told me that again and again with her absent parenting. She chose him. She chose to leave me and my brother behind. Forcing us to be around this suctioning of evil. Stealing our light and innocence. To watch their toxicity toward one another like it was normal. My mom had plenty of chances to choose us. Santiago encouraged her to leave him over and over again. He’s told her flat out that he didn’t love her and is just waiting for the day she leaves.
She told me once that she regrets having children.
I guess some people may find it weird that I’m still writing about these things, but I worry about my mother. I worry about her every day and every night, hoping and wishing that one day, she’ll see her worth. That one day, she’ll change and be the parent my brother, and I need her to be.
She’s beautiful, independently financially supporting herself, and most of all, strong.
Anyway, what triggered these memories was her birthday. She’s turning forty-five. I called her to say happy birthday, but she didn’t answer. She was on a plane going somewhere to celebrate with Santiago. Instead of singing Happy Birthday with her and eating cake, I worked until closing time.
~Millie
