Page 53 of Deadly Sacrifice

Whatever it is that I can’t say, Asher can read it on my face. He sighs heavily, finally pushing off of me and standing. He offers me a hand up, but makes sure the keep himself between Griffin and I. “You taking your meds?” Asher asks softly, studying me carefully, like he’d be able to see the cracks if he’s observant enough.

“If I say no, will that forgive me?” I try to joke. Nobody laughs. “Yeah, I’m… well, I missed a couple last week, but I’m fine now. I’m back on my schedule,” I explain sheepishly, avoiding Asher’s intense green stare. He’s seen me below rock bottom, and he’s made it a point to keep on me about staying healthy and sane. As sane as I can manage, at least.

Griffin frowns, looking worried for me even after I’d attacked him and probably almost triggered an episode. He’s still pale and a little sweaty, as if one wrong move will send him spiraling back to the day he almost died. Hanging my head, I say again, “Griff, I’m fucking sorry, man. You wanna get a hit in too?” I hold my arms out at my sides, ready and willing to take the blow.

It’s the fucking least I deserve.

Except the punch never comes. Instead, Griffin lets loose a heavy exhale and shuffles forward to put his hand on my shoulder. We stare at each other for a second, and then he quirks a slightly shaken half smile before turning to head up to his room.

He forgives me.

He doesn’t need to sign it. I’ve known him long enough to read the expressions he gives. And somehow, knowing that Griffin doesn’t want to choke me to death for being an asshole makes me feel worse. He’s easily the nicest, most loyal guy I’ve ever met. He’s the calm one in our trio. I’m chaos and Asher is stifling order. Without Griffin, the two of us would be at each other’s throats more often than not. We’d lose our goddamn minds. Well, mine was lost years ago. But still.

I bite into my bottom lip while I swing my gaze to Asher. He’s watching me with a mixture of pity and rage. After a moment, the tension seeps out of his posture and he mutters, “Go to bed, man. Get some rest. You look like shit.”

I flip him off with a sharp, sarcastic smile, and then follow his orders, heading upstairs to my room.

***

The next morning, Asher barges into my bedroom before my alarm has even gone off, Griffin sluggishly following him in. A quick glance at my clock shows that it’s only six-forty-five and my alarm isn’t set to go off for over an hour. I rub the sleep from my eyes, yawning and waiting for Ash to get it off his chest. Doesn’t matter that I haven’t a clue what he wants; I can tell something is eating at him if he’s ballsy enough to wake me up this early.

Normally, I hit snooze until the last second and then rush to class with a carefully crafted messy look about me. I’m a bear when it comes to getting my sleep.

A long year of being woken at odd hours for meds and hearing other patients scream down the hall all night has given me a bit of a thing about sleep. I need it. Lots of it. Otherwise, I’m half-mad all fucking day, one trigger away from feeling like I’m right back in that place. Asher and Griff both know this about me, and do their best to respect my boundary.

But not today, apparently.

While we wait for Asher to talk, Griffin rolls his shoulders back and stretches out his neck, yawning and looking like he was just ripped out of bed a few minutes ago. I sit up in bed, pulling my knees up and resting my arms on them. Griffin takes it as the silent invitation it was, crossing my room and sitting at the foot of my bed, leaning back against the wall.

The two of us could probably pass out in a second.

Meanwhile, Asher looks kind of like he hardly slept all night, like he took a line of cocaine and hasn’t come back down. He’s pacing across my room, hands on his pajama clad hips, and hair a mess, which in and of itself is a bad sign. Asher was raised to value his image. He’s never not groomed and proper, unless he’s in the privacy of his own bedroom. The second he steps out of his room in the morning, he’s got his mask in place and his attire in order.

Griffin and I share a look, and it strikes me right in the chest that I’m glad he’s here; not only in my room, but at ease sitting so close to me. I was out of my mind last night and I could have really hurt him. I could have triggered a panic attack and sent him to a dark fucking place. Yet, here he is today, relaxed by my side like he’s already moved on, like he wouldn’t even dream of being upset with me over it.

A tendril of self hatred tries to wind itself around my chest, squeezing until I want to scream. That and my uncalled for early wake up call has me grinding my teeth while Asher wears a goddamn hole in my carpet. “Speak or get the fuck out, Ash,” I snap, arching an impatient brow when he turns to face me. “It’s early, and I don’t have a firm enough control over my inner calm quiet yet.”

Asher rolls his eyes with a frustrated huff. He looks from me to Griffin and back again, and I can practically see the wheels and cogs turning behind his eyes. “She’s a problem,” he explains distractedly, walking over to my window and peering through the slit between the black curtains.

“Who?” I say through another yawn.

When he faces us again, it’s almost like I’m looking at Bruce, Asher’s dad. I mean, my uncle has been grooming Asher all his life to fall right in line behind him, to become him. If Bruce could have forgone having a child and cloned himself instead, he’d have jumped at the opportunity. Especially since Asher has been just this side of resistant every step of the way.

Except today.

He’s decidedly cold and removed when he says, “Prudence. She’s gotten into your heads.” He frowns, fisting a hand through his brown hair. “Our heads. We’re supposed to break her beyond repair, beyond recognition, and yet Griffin has that sappy look in his eye whenever she’s around. Creed, you’re picking fights and you haven’t brought a girl home to fuck since you met her. And me… I’m second guessing every fucking decision I make about her.”

I furrow my brows, almost arguing his observations, but he’s right. I haven’t been interested enough in anyone else since I got sicced on Prudence. She’s consumed my mind, whether I want to destroy her when it’s all over or not. “So what, then?” I ask, and Griffin nods along with the question.

Asher sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face before shaking his head and muttering, “So we need to end her sooner rather than later. My dad and the rest of The Celestials will be glad to know we completed our initiation task early, and it’ll get her out of our lives before things get worse.”

I grin, excited about speeding up my plans for her, but when I look to Griffin for confirmation, I’m met with a blank face. There’s a small tick in his jaw, like he’s having to fight not to show a single emotion. Figures he’s in too deep. I saw the way he was with her last night. Not that I’m really one to talk.

“Griff is a loose cannon,” I point out. “He likes her.”

His nostrils flare when he turns his creepy blue eyes on me, but it’s Asher who speaks ups, saying, “You need to pull your damn head out of your ass before she takes you down with her. This whole time, it’s been Creed and I moving in on her, though—“ Asher gives me a hard stare ”—I don’t necessarily like the way he’s gone about it.”

“Ditto,” I snark, flipping him the bird. “My plan to woo her is the smart route.”

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