Page 69 of Revenge of a Queen

I pay Robert and as always, he refuses payment for Cassie's dress. He tells me he will have my order done by next week, a couple of days before the party, so we head out.

We hit a few more shops, picking up some more stuff for the guys to ensure they feel at home in their new rooms. Cassie somehow manages to coerce the guys into more than a few new stuffed animals she didn’t need but according to Marcus and Jace, she definitely did. She already has them wrapped around her tiny fingers. Once we are all shopped out, we stop for ice cream.

We are sitting in a booth by the window watching Cassie stuff her face with chocolate ice cream. It's the calmest and happiest I have felt in a while. I know we have a fuck ton of shit going on but sitting here with Cass and the guys, I can breathe easily.

I relax into Marcus' arm which is slung around my shoulder, while I play with Cassie's hair. I look over her head to where Ash is sitting on her other side and find a familiar look in his eye. Family days are the best.

Once she has eaten enough to make her little stomach push out, I get up from the booth and head to the register to pay. I ask for some tubs to take home for Helen who is addicted to their fudge brownie and when the cashier heads in the back I lean on the counter and look out the window.

I freeze. What the fuck?

I swing my gaze to Asher who just happens to look over at me at the same time and takes in the look on my face and dives from the booth stalking towards me.

He cups my face, "Baby girl, what's the matter?"

Marcus is by my side in the next second looking worried as the rest join us, Cassie in Logan's arms. I push Asher aside and look back out the window, but I don't see anything. Did I imagine it? Was I just so content in my day that my subconscious was reminding me of my monsters?

I shake my head out and put a smile on my face before turning back to everyone not wanting them to worry, "Nothing, I'm fine, just thought I saw someone." I scrunch my eyes shut and open them again before adding, "I'm just tired and on edge after yesterday," and they all relax a little, understanding what I mean.

Marcus puts his arm around me, "Well come on, baby, let's go home," the word home hits me right in the heart. Home.

As we leave the store, I can't help but feel like we are being watched but casting my glance around I see nothing. Maybe the devil on my shoulder is just forcing me to not relax after the sins I have committed. The people I kill, might deserve to die, but it still makes me a killer all the same.

Chapter 39

JACE

I've never been good in other people's houses, it’s not something I'm used to. You can’t relax within something you’ve never had. I didn’t grow up in a nice, big mansion with a picture-perfect family. A fucking run-down trailer with a pair of crack heads is a more accurate description.

The only salvation I had growing up was Rachel, she made everything better. From our shitty shared mattress on the floor, that she covered with a stolen blanket, to the ramen noodles we were lucky enough to eat most days that she always gave me more of. We may have been cold, starving, and fucking abused, but at least we had each other.

When I lost her, I lost myself too. Her disappearance and murder eventually sparked CPS into taking action, I was taken and placed into foster care. I hadn’t seen my parents since the day I was taken. I heard a while back that they had both been killed in a car accident. When Rachel died, I felt everything, guilt, rage, hate, love, abandonment. When I heard my parents died, I felt nothing. A feeling I had become so accustomed to, so used to that when I met a fierce and fiery girl on the front steps of our shitty school, my first thought was how I couldn’t wait to fuck her without even knowing her name.

How fucking stupid was I? Like you could ever fuck and forget someone like Elle King. She rocked up in her fishnets and no bullshit attitude and put me and my brothers in our fucking place. I knew she was on a mission the first time I laid eyes on her; I just never imagined our mission would collide so fucking perfectly. How could I have ever imagined that the devil on her shoulder was the same as mine?

She could never replace Rachel, no one could, but having her around makes that hole in my chest a little less fucking big. I’d do anything for her, like I already have, and I won’t stop until we have our justice. For her, all the others, and for Rachel.

I take a drag of the joint between my fingers, inhaling deeply, praying the effects will numb the dark feelings raging inside of me. I killed a man and before this is over, I plan on killing more. I’m a killer and I feel no regret or remorse. Does that make me a bad person? Is killing murderers and rapists still a sin? I don’t know where I land on the scale of right and wrong anymore.

How would Rachel feel about the man I have become? I am not the little boy who she tried so desperately to save anymore. Now, I'm a man on the path of death and destruction. A fire of revenge burning inside of me and the only fuel is more blood. Will it stop? Will I stop? What happens when I finally have Greg Donovan bleeding out at my feet? Will this aching crater in my chest finally fucking heal?

The cracking of twigs beneath someone's foot has me snapping to attention as my head whirls around and my gaze locks with Mrs. Royton’s. Fuck.

I scramble to stub out the joint in my hand and waft away the remnants of smoke praying she isn’t on to me.

“Are you really trying to hide the stench of weed from a Mom of two boys?” Her tone is light and teasing but I still feel like a fucking shit for her catching me.

“Sorry, I know I shouldn’t,” I start but she cuts me off.

“Some things are needed to tame the demons inside one's head.” She sits down next to me and looks out into the distance, studying the dark of the night with me. I don’t respond because I don't know how to. She saves me from answering as she continues, “What troubles you this evening?”

“The same thing as every other evening,” I reply without a thought. I frown. What the fuck? Why the hell did I say that? I don’t do this, sit and talk about my fucking feelings, especially not with someone I barely know. No one wants to dig into my black mind and see the damage painted there. They want the fun Jace, the flirty Jace, no one is ever interested in more than a fuck or a good time. But that isn’t Helen, her motherly instincts pour out and wrap around you, so no matter what, you just feel safe. Like you could tell her anything and there would be no judgment so before I can talk myself out of it I add, “Regret.”

“For Rachel?” She says her name so easily, it’s weird having people know about her and speak about her. It has been a long time since anyone has used it so casually and I find myself hating it, yet also craving it. Emotions clog my throat and I barely trust myself to reply, so I just nod.

“She's in a better place than this awful world, she would just want you to look after yourself now.”

“And how do I do that?” I whisper hoarsely, trying not to let my emotions pour out more than they already have.

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