Page 4 of Vicious Desire (Fallen Royals 4)

I’m just trying to survive.

I latch on to that: survival instinct. I don’t need emotion. I’ll just do the work. Run on the damn cross-country team. And wish on a shooting star that I get into NYU.

2

Eli

Riley Appleton thinks I’m hours away.

She would prefer that I forgot about her, left her behind.

That was never my plan—only hers.

We were going to be happy, her and I. That was the path we were on before the fucking path blew up in our faces. Now we’re both coated in the ashes of our former relationship, and I can’t wait to smear it across her pretty face.

Show her that the bully she knew before has nothing on the person I’ve become.

Ruined.

She moves in front of the window, carrying a plate of food. Her brother is right behind her. He’s thinner than I remember, lost some of the muscle he carried in high school. They transferred in his senior year, but he made an impact as a soccer player. And little Riley, the quiet freshman, had been tucked under Amelie’s wing.

Hmm, now that I think about it, Riley has a way of detonating all her relationships.

It’s a wonder she’s still close to Margo.

I suppress the rage rattling my bones.

I came here for one thing: to see her. To give in to the need clawing at my throat.

It’s been a year since she spoke to me, and I craved the sound of her voice. I dreamt of it for months. Of us. Of what could’ve possibly happened for her trust in me to shatter.

She and her brother sit on the couch and turn on the television. A bit of the screen is visible through the window, the couch positioned perfectly to give me a profile view of Riley’s upper body.

They’re not talkers, those two. I’m not sure they’ve ever had a real conversation in their lives. If I were there—as I often was—I’d be the one running my mouth. Sometimes I can’t shut up.

I stay at their curb in a borrowed car for far too long.

Long enough that the neighbors might get suspicious about the idling, older-model car. Dad just bought it a few months ago to fix up, but he hasn’t got very far. He said he wanted something to keep his hands busy when he wasn’t working.

It’s laughable. He’s always working.

I spent more time on this car than he ever did, meticulously following books and diagrams to switch out engine parts, to clean the undercarriage and replace broken or damaged pieces.

It runs just fine now, but it sure is ugly.

I lean forward when Riley does. It’s unconscious, mirroring her movements.

My enchantress.

She once snared my attention without trying, and she’s held it ever since.

If only it wasn’t laced with real anger. If she hadn’t stabbed me in the back.

If, if, if.

There’s no fixing the past. We’re beyond that.

I craved her voice, but now all I want are her screams.

---