Page 82 of Fragmented Illusions
Much too soon, Fallon begins to wriggle around, the pressure of our combined body weight on top of her fragile body too much for her to bear any longer.
Sighing, I pull myself from Spencer’s back, his sweat plastered skin sticking to me. Once I’m off of him, I yank my sweatpants up and pull my hoodie over my head. It doesn’t take me long to get dressed because I only took my hoodie off, so I stand idly by as Spencer pulls his cock out of Fallon and stumbles away from her.
She gasps as he slips free and quickly covers her body.
“Don’t do that,” I demand. Her eyes dart up to me where I stand at the back wall of the room. I cross my arms over my chest as I stare at her. I see her swallow before she drops her arms and sits up. Now that I don’t have their body heat combined with mine, I can feel how much the temperature has dropped with the storm.
Fallon shivers as she stands. She wobbles before righting herself and grabbing her clothes. I watch her every move as she pulls them on. I can’t help the smirk that pulls at my lips when I see a glimmer of Spencer’s cum leaking out of her. What I would do to be able to lick it off of her right now…
Her movements are sluggish, and I can see the exhaustion seeping from her every pore, snapping me from my wayward thoughts.
“You’re tired,” I observe as I make my way toward her, helping her into her bloodied coat. It’s easy to forgot she is new to this, and the action of slicing someone to near death is enough to exhaust anyone to their core. Then fucking two men on top of that? I’m surprised she’s still conscious.
“Thank you,” she says as I fix the collar. “And yes, I am.”
“We’ll take you home,” I tell her as I run my index finger down the back of her neck.
“What about her?” Spencer walks away from the body he was staring at and heads toward us.
“We will deal with her after we walk Fallon home.”
“But the storm—” She tries to argue, but I cut her off.
“You’re ours now, pretty girl. Aren’t you?” I ask. My tone doesn’t allow for argument, but there is a miniscule part of me that fears she’ll deny what I said.
“Yes.” There is no hesitation in her immediate answer, and I subtly release the small breath I was holding in anticipation.
“We’ll take care of you, baby,” Spencer butts in as we all walk to the back door. He pulls it open, and a gust of wind almost throws us backwards.
“It’s going to be a long walk,” Spencer assesses. “Do you want me to carry you?” he asks Fallon as we step off of the stairs and into the large pile of snow. We sink at least a foot deep and Fallon gasps as the snow seeps into her shoes.
“No, I’m okay. I just want to sleep. I’m exhausted.”
“Stabbing someone always does that to me too, pretty girl,” Spencer remarks conversationally and Fallon visibly stiffens beside us. I reach my arm up and slap Spencer upside his head.
He stumbles forward and grunts when he trips, almost face planting in the snow. “What?” he asks, sounding genuinely confused.
“It’s okay,” Fallon whispers. She grabs my forearm and squeezes reassuringly. My hardened glare drops from Spencer to her. Her eyes are wide with uncertainty, but her lips are pulled up into a genuine smile as she regards me.
I’m full of trepidation this was all a mistake. That she won’t be able to handle after—when the reality of it all sets in.
The fact of the matter is, even if she ends up losing it, I won’t find myself able to regret it. Because I got to have her—both her and Spencer—and I never realized that was all I had ever wanted. But now I have had them both, I never want to be without.
I need them just as much as I need the kill.
She’s strong, I tell myself. She wouldn’t have done it to begin with if she wasn’t able to handle it. She’s our pretty girl and she was meant for this, for us.
After trudging through the snow, we finally come to the end of the woods and out into the backyard of the house. It’s quiet as the snow whips around, blanketing the entire night in white. The sky has an iridescent pink and purple hue to it, lighting the way.
We walk through the back yard and around the side of the house to jump on the sidewalk and make our trek to Fallon’s apartment easier. We are all quiet as we walk, but it’s a comfortable silence. Almost serene. The thrill of the kill still courses through my veins, but in a way that makes me feel sated, not tense with adrenaline.
It seems as if Fallon is feeling the same way. Her movements are almost sluggish but relaxed with her arms at her sides and her steps heavy as she stomps through the snow piles.
I’m marginally worried about the three of us being seen like this; Spencer and I in our masks and the three of us covered in blood, but I couldn’t let Fallon walk home alone. Which is why I’m glad it’s not only night out, but that there aren’t any people around due to the storm. It saves me from having to come up with a plausible explanation for the situation.
Killing people is something Spencer and I need—maybe Fallon too—but the moment we have suspicion on us, it’s all over and Ican’thave that. So we need to be extra cautious. And we can’t take this risk again. Next time I will make sure we are more prepared.
No more impulsivity.
