Page 39 of Inevitable Destruction

EVERETT

“The Ending”—Papa Roach

Seth: Yeah, there’s a party tonight, why?

Me: Cause I’m coming with you.

Seth: You’re coming to another party with me?

Seth: Is this… becoming more???

I let out a huff of irritation. This kid just cannot take a fucking hint. Even I can admit I’ve been nothing but a complete fucking asshole to him for the last two weeks, stringing him along and using him. But I never said I was a good guy.

We both knew what this was when we started it, only I should have expected this. Attachment seems to be a thing people do. I personally don’t understand it.

I hate to admit it, even the thought sets a bitter taste on my tongue, but I need Seth. He’s a distraction, something to keep me in line because ever since that stupid, reckless, impulsive kiss at the cemetery, I haven’t been able to get my mind off of the things it made me feel.

And if I’m being honest with myself, that kiss made me think of something so fucked up, it even makes me second guess myself and my almost nonexistent morals. But I don’t see any other possibility.

I think this is the way it has to be. And if I have to sacrifice a bit of myself to destroy Dominik Reed, then I’ll do it with a smile on my face. Even thinking about all the ways I can use him gives my heart and my dick a sickening jolt.

My phone starts ringing, the vibration rattling the glass table I have it on. I glance down, only to see Seth’s name illuminating the screen. I should’ve expected his call since I ignored him, but my head has been too lost in planning.

All mentally, of course, because I can’t have any of this on paper.

No proof of any of it, so in the end, it’s like I was never there.

Accepting my fate for what I made it, I pick up the phone and swipe over. “What?”

“Well, hello to you, too, Mr. Grumpy.”

I sigh into the phone, the sound echoing through the line. “You’re pissing me off. I asked you what you wanted, Seth.”

“Jeez, okay. I wanted to let you know the party’s at one of the Sororities tonight, but it’ll probably get moved to the house…” he trails off with a long pause. I grind my teeth, focusing on the sound of my jaw popping inside of my head.

“And?” I ask, pushing him to get to the fucking point. I hate talking on the phone.

“Aaand, I wanted to ask if you would pick me up?” He lowers his voice. “Please, daddy.”

I open my mouth at the rush of warmth flushing my body. That little fucker…

“No.”

“W-what? Please?” I grab my hardening dick through my jeans and squeeze.

“I said no, Seth.” His little huff of disappointment hits me, and I decide to add, “But you can come over before.”

“Okay!” He hangs up. I push my hair away from my face and lean back in my chair on the deck. It’s cold and raining, but the overhang keeps it dry. I pick up my beer and take a sip as I look out at my yard.

This house used to be Pops’s. I got it after he died, and even though I grew up here, it no longer feels like home. It just feels like I’m a guest living in his house, waiting for him to come home.

But he’s not. Because he’s fucking dead.

My grip on the beer bottle tightens, and my rings dig into my fingers from the pressure. Pops and I used to be close when I was growing up, but when I moved out, we grew apart. We still talked all the time, but I didn’t come and see him often.

I knew he had become close with the Reeds because whenever we would talk, he would mention them. Apparently, they had become like family to him, but I can’t ever recall meeting them. But back then, I was young and dumb, partying and just living life, not knowing it would end before I knew it.

It’s been five years since he was killed, and every day, every. Fucking. Day, I relive it. The shock, the pain. Regret. Rage.

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