Page 89 of Fragmented Illusions
Us: we miss you
I stare at the screen for a few minutes, waiting for her to see the texts and respond. It never takes her long.
Sol’s presence heats my back as he leans next to me, his right side pressing against my arm. I suck in a breath at the contact, craving his touch on more of my body.
“Must you always use lower case letters?” he grumbles, and a megawatt smile breaks across my face.
“Yes. I like them. Plus, it always pisses you off.” I glance to my left. Solomon is clenching and unclenching his jaw repeatedly and I swear I can see his eye twitching with annoyance.
Ah, my control freak of a brother.
“Well, it’s fucking annoying,” he snaps, pulling away from me and bringing his mug back to his full lips.
“Why isn’t she answering?” I ask Sol. It’s weird for her not to answer right away—especially since it’s afternoon.
Something doesn’t feel right.
“I don’t know,” he muses.
“Figure out where she’s at, brother, please. It won’t take you long. We need to know where her head is after last night.”
“I’m aware, Spencer. Give me the fucking phone.” I hand it to him and watch as he pulls up some app that is probably illegal as fuck but so is killing people, so who cares. As long as we find our pretty girl, that’s all that matters.
“What are you guys doin’?”
I straighten my posture as Trenton Williams waltzes into the room, swinging his arms and chomping his gum. Solomon continues to drink his coffee, not-so-subtly ignoring him, and I stand from the stool. It screeches loudly across the floor, creating a high pitch sound that makes Trenton wince.
A sly smirk pulls at my lips as I pour myself my own cup of coffee and turn, planting my ass against the counter as I stare at Trenton. He yanks open the fridge and peers inside of it for a minute before closing it and spinning around. His eyes flick between Sol and me. His brows bunch together for a moment before he plasters on a fake ass smile.
“Was that Fallon you guys were with last night?” he asks conversationally. He crosses his arms across his chest as he smirks at us. I can feel the tension radiating off of Sol at the mention of Fallon, and I’m right there with him.
What the fuck is he talking about? We didn’t see anyone last night—because last night was when we killed that woman together then walked her home.
No one saw us, I’m sure of it, but I know Solomon’s mind is spinning with possibilities. With what-ifs.
“I know you guys wear your matching black clothes all the time so when I looked out of my window last night and saw two guys walking in front of the house, I assumed it was you two. Except there was a girl with you with bright red hair—which I’m also assuming was Fallon.
“I didn’t know you guys knew who she was.” His tone darkens at the end, seemingly full of hatred—and that has me more on edge than anything else he said. If he saw us walking with Fallon, it was most likely too dark for him to see anything of importance.
We’re fine.
“It’s funny,” he goes on without any prompt from us. “I tried to tap that, but she acted like a fuckin’ prude and ran away from me, so I find it kind of surprising she would fuck two brothers.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Anger surges through my veins as thoughts of Trenton being anywhere near my pretty girl.
“On Halloween night I tried to hook up with her. Figured she would be an easy lay, especially with the way she was dressed.” I glare at him and his lip curls as he talks. As if my pretty girl was the problem.
I can feel my blood pulsing through my veins, making the vein in my temple throb. I grit my teeth, fighting the consuming anger bombarding me. I can’t even think about Solomon right now when all I want is to jam my fucking knife in that piece of shit’s throat.
To watch his blood spurt from his carotid, soaking me entirely as I breathe in his death. As I take his life for even daring toglanceat my pretty girl.
“She fought me hard too but slipped away and ran into the woods. I didn’t bother to go after her because no pussy is worth all that. I even tried at the last party we had, but she wouldn’t cooperate. Must not have been drunk enough.” He scoffs, and I fucking snap. One minute I’m leaning against the counter and the next, my coffee mug is smashing into the side of Trenton’s skull.
He doesn’t even have time to react before he’s crumpling to the floor in a heap of useless skin and bones.
Solomon’s voice breaks through my haze along with his long fingers gripping my shoulder. “Fucking hell, Spencer,” he bites out, but he doesn’t sound angry—at me anyway. I know he was feeling everything I was as that motherfucker ran his mouth about our girl.
Our pretty girl. No one else’s.
