Page 167 of Firestorm
My mother stared at me for a moment, her eyes seeming much smaller with her clumpy eyelashes lining them. I hadn’t really looked at her in quite some time. Delicate wrinkles lined her mouth in a way that showed how often she frowned. And smoked.
“I really do detest liars.” Mother said, her frown even more pronounced. She rubbed at a line on her forehead, then looked toward the closet. My eyes darted to follow her gaze, and my hand tightened on the doorknob behind me.
Fuck. She’d brought some muscle. And I recognized him.
“Jones,” she drawled. “You remember my son.”
“Of course, Mrs. Brandt.”
Jones was huge and bald and ugly as hell, with a massive scar where his neck met his shoulder, like someone had tried to slice him in half. He couldn’t look more like an evil villain if he tried. It was no surprise he’d been fired from the Royal Guard.
“I’m sorry it’s come to this, Aiden, but I just can’t take it anymore.”
I stared at her while watching Jones out of the corner of my eye. He was slowly closing in on me, and the hair on the back of my neck stood taller with each tiny step he took toward me.
“What’s going on?” I asked, hating how my voice wavered.
My mother sighed deeply, then nodded to Jones.
Flames flared to life along my arms for just a moment before Jones grabbed me and they extinguished completely, though my skin still burned hot.
Fuck. He was a Paralyzer, but not a very good one.
I managed to get one good punch in to his jaw, but then he had me on the ground. My head was spinning from the force of his returning jab. My ribs ached as he kicked me. I rolled over, still looking towardthe door like someone would come through at any moment and save me.
Jones pulled me upright, easily ignoring me when I spit blood at him. He fumbled around for a moment while the witch that was my mother stared at me with something close to pity.
“Why?” I croaked, finally asking the question that kept me up at night. “What did I do to deserve this?”
“You’re utterly unremarkable, Aiden. You lie to me. You make messes. Your grades are sub-par. The amount of humiliation this family has endured due to your shortcomings has gone on for long enough. And now I hear you’ve stopped your counseling sessions?”
My heart stuttered in my chest. I clenched my teeth.
Wyatt. Wyatt sold me out.
Jones pulled a rubber band tight around my arm, and by the time my brain realized what was happening, it was already too late.
He plunged a needle into my vein, sending some unknown substance coursing through me. My heart skipped a beat. I began to shake, realizing just how fucked up this situation was, and my mother continued speaking.
“You’ve disappointed me for the last time, Aiden. At least now I’ll finally get some sympathy from your mistakes.”
No.
The drugs hit my system hard. I hadn’t done anything in months.
Whatever he’d injected me with was way too strong, waytoo muchcompared to what I’d been doing weeks ago. My tolerance was gone. My system was too clean. And I never did needles.Never.
I opened my mouth, probably to call her a vindictive bitch, but no words came out. I slurred, drool dribbling down my chin as I sagged face-first into the carpet.
The witch only laughed before ruffling my hair.
“Part of me will miss you, Aiden.”
And then she was gone, Jones right behind her out the door.
My breathing went ragged quickly. I could hardly draw in a full breath, between the drugs and my face on the carpet.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
