Page 15 of Soul So Dark
“You’ve been busy,” he glances at the bags hanging from my arms, “got any other plans tonight?”
She doesn’t answer right away, but instead peers at Colson suspiciously. He glances across the grass to the thick woods separating our property from hers.
“Relax, lady, I’m not going to tell on you,” he chuckles, “I’ll always give you a head start, even though he’ll just find you anyway.”
The look in her eyes is a volatile combination of dread and fear. It’s a look she’s had since the moment I met her. Beneath the glowing eyes and radiant smile lies a haunted girl dragging demons and curses behind her.
Sheshouldbe afraid.
I feel terrible for Sydney if Aiden, of all people, has decided that she deserves his undivided attention
CHAPTER SEVEN
Alex
I need to sharpen my knife. It’s so dull that I can catch my fingertip on the black blade and it won’t so much as leave a scratch. I flip it shut again, catching the reflection of the same black metal clip on Colson’s jeans pocket.
The four of us have the exact same pocket knife, gifted to each of us in this very room by Aiden for Christmas freshman year. We might’ve even been sitting in these same spots, slouched in the black leather sofas around the massive stone fireplace with the black wrought iron chandelier hanging above. Aiden set down three black boxes on the ornate walnut coffee table and told us to open them. You’d think it was a touching gesture, until Aiden pulled the same knife out of his own back pocket and declared that if we wanted to keep them, we had to pledge our allegiance to one another through ritual bloodletting.
Aiden can be dramatic when he wants to be. Colson just likes knives and blood, so he was all in. And Mason’s just down for whatever. And me…
My dad was there when I left for school one day that fall and dead by the time the last bell rang. And when I found out he was gone, it was like I lost my mom all over again, too. Both of them were gone, without warning, and I wasn’t ready. And then it was Christmas, and my dad wasn’t here.
Aiden, Colson, and Mason were the only reason that I didn’t turn into a total basket case.
So, in the midst of my spiraling melancholy, I volunteered to be the first to ditch my shirt and sit in one of the Raffertys’ mahogany dining room chairs while Mason held my arms behind the chairback and Colson stood above him, gripping the ends of a leather belt while I clenched it in my teeth.
Aiden straddled my lap, facing me while he meticulously carved my soccer number—23—into my ribcage just under my left pec.
Beasts of waste…beasts of desolation…
I bit down on the leather and let out a howl that didn’t sound anything like myself. Colson and Mason murmured the chant in my ears like an incantation that’s come to mean more than just a high school cheer.
We die alone, but together…rulers of creation.
That fall, it was a mantra that kept my feet moving one past the other. If I didn’t have practice, the games, and all of them to keep my pieces together, I don’t want to know where I would’ve ended up.
Probably like Luca.
At least Aiden made sure his blade was sharp and the letters looked halfway decent. It was like a nervous break, surrendering to the pain after resisting and trying to keep it together for so long. And when he finished, Aiden clenched my hair in his fist and pressed my forehead to his.
“You’re our brother,” he bites out, “you’remybrother. And that’s all that matters right now.”
I switched places with Aiden and sliced his number—66—into the exact same place with my own knife, listening to his grunts and garbled curses and feeling his blood smear over my fingers while I held him steady. The entire time, Aiden never looked away.
Then, with blood trailing down his stomach, Aiden traded places with Mason. Colson swaggered around to the front of the chair and swung his leg over Mason’s knees, the glint in his eye suggesting that he was going to enjoy this. And he hoped that Mason would return the favor.
Because he’s batshit.
Colson cut deep, digging his fingers into Mason’s chest to hold him steady while he sliced the number 13 into Mason’s otherwise flawless skin. He moved slower than necessary, dragging an agonizing groan out of Mason, buffered only by the leather strap between his teeth. And when it was Colson’s turn, Mason didn’t disappoint, cutting deep while he traced Colson’s number—3.
Where Mason suffers in silence, taking a beating before doling out his retribution with eerie precision, Colson lashes out, snarling and gnashing his teeth like a rabid animal. And maybe that’s why they’re close, the way that Aiden and I are to one another, because they have something the other needs to feel whole.
“So, what’s the story?” Aiden’s voice breaks me out of my trance, reminiscing about the last time we met like this—a council of sorts after a tragic death.
Only now it’s Colson’s turn to experience the rage and despair instead of me, and it’s our turn to make sure all his pieces stay together.
“Bowen killed Evie,” Colson replies with a tone infinitely sharper than the knife inside my pocket.
