Page 57 of Deadly Sacrifice

Mom hums disapprovingly, arching a perfectly shaped brow at Dad.

It sets my blood boiling, this entire fucking interaction and the way they’re behaving toward her. Without thinking better of it, I grunt to grab everyone’s attention, patting my dad on the back a bit too hard. He shoots me a stern look, but I ignore him, giving my focus to the redhead in front of me.

Prudence swings her big, soulful eyes my way, giving me an apologetic smile. “I’d better run. Things to do, asses to kick. The usual,” she says, shrugging one shoulder with a wild glint in her eyes that threatens to rip a breathy laugh from deep in my chest.

Nobody does that but her.

I sign, Don’t hurt yourself, little flame.

She rolls her eyes at the nickname, making me smile even though I know better. With a polite goodbye to my parents, she takes off at a brisk walk and heads across campus.

I watch her go, the silence crushing my lungs.

“Awfully cozy, aren’t they, Mary?” my dad mutters, curling a firm hand around the back of my neck and digging his fingers in.

“Cozy, indeed. How curious,” Mom says, slowly turning to look at me with eyes so icy I could catch frostbite.

“Especially considering your purpose is to break her will to live. If you can’t do this one thing right, then you survived that unfortunate accident for nothing.” My dad’s grip is hard enough to bruise as he leans in, putting his mouth near my ear as he adds, “And trust me, son, I won’t hesitate to rectify that mistake.”

My blood turns to acid, and my bones harden into stone. I don’t show any emotion, though. Not with them.

My mom puts her arm on my shoulder, looking like the picture of a loving mother. But her vile mouth turns down into a cruel slash as she whispers, “Don’t forget, there are always eyes on you, Griffin. Prove you deserve your place amongst us. And if you can’t do that with her as a distraction, I will take her fate into my own hands, and none of you will be able to initiate.”

With a subtle shove, my dad urges me to move. My feet are heavy and I nearly trip over myself with the reeling thoughts in my mind clouding all my senses. There are always eyes on you. That can only lead to bad things. For me. For her. I’ve put Prudence in more danger when all I wanted was to… Help her, care for her, maybe win her over and show her how a man should treat her. Doesn’t matter now. I’ve been naïve to think I could sneak around with Prudence and play the good guy for her.

With my head held high, I roll my shoulders back and start to think up a plan that’ll fix it. It might— no, it will hurt. It’ll be like a knife to the chest for both of us. But what other choice do I have? If I don’t find a way to prove my allegiance is with The Celestials, it’s not just my life at risk. It’s hers, and Asher’s and Creed’s.

***

As much as I feel like I don’t know Asher anymore with everything he’s done to Prudence lately, he’s still my closest friend. I know his habits and schedule as easily as I know my own. And though I’ve hardly been able to talk to him for weeks, tonight I’m pushing myself to join him for a few hours.

Not for his sake. For mine.

I’m waiting in the hall, dressed in gym shorts and an old tee, leaning against the wall. His bedroom door swings open, and I stand up straight, crossing my arms over my chest, and then feeling awkward and letting them hang at my sides instead. Even now, he makes me feel like a fucking pre-teen trying to stutter out a simple sentence to their crush. I want to hate him for everything that’s going on this semester, but underneath all his fucked up behavior, I know it’s all stemmed from a broken part of him that just wants to please his dad for once.

Shit, I more than understand. It’s just that I’ve given up on my parents while Asher still wants approval from his.

Asher glances up from his phone, pausing just outside his door. His frown is there and gone in under a second, and then his features are blank. “Hey,” he says casually, slipping his phone into the pocket of his navy blue hoodie.

Got enough space on the fight roster for another tonight? I ask him, trying to keep my face as empty as his.

He narrows his piercing green eyes, looking down the hall and then back to me. “Always, man.” He jerks his head toward the stairs and then walks off while I follow and try to keep my composure.

Until I met Prudence, I didn’t think I’d ever get over Asher. Not that I’ve gotten over him quite yet, but every minute spent with her feels like a promise of something huge. Life altering. And now I have to throw it all away, and I can feel myself slipping into that lung crushing, soul consuming panic that I’ve tried so hard to control.

I’m so lost in my own messy mind that almost the entire walk from the frat house to the clearing in the woods is just a blur. I greet Sam, the guy who puts this shit on, and he matches me up with a guy about my size. Asher is always the last fight of the night, unless he wants to go multiple rounds. Since I’m pretty much a newbie here, I’m lucky number one. Probably because they think I’ll go down quickly.

I pull my shirt off and hand it to Asher, and he nods in encouragement. Whatever he sees in my eyes has him stopping me when I turn away, though. “I know your parents were here today. You need to talk?” he mumbles with a hand on my shoulder.

I swallow down the acidic hatred I get whenever I think of the people who created me, and then I give him a jerky shake of my head before walking into the middle of the clearing and facing my opponent. He’s big, but not naturally like me. I’m tall and broad, and build muscle pretty easily without having to kill myself in the gym. Blessed, I guess. But this guy, he looks roided out. Too big, too sweaty, too angry. Nothing about it looks appealing, but I’ve never been attracted to guys like that.

The guy grinds his teeth, jumping on the spot and shaking out his hands while his dark brown eyes track me. I roll my shoulders out, crack my neck, and curl my fingers into fists a couple of times, and then I’m ready. Your move, buddy. He strikes fast, catching my jaw before I have time to avoid his fist. My head cracks to the side, my ears ringing, and everything in the background fades away.

I’m not like Asher in the sense that I need to fight to calm my demons. I’m not typically an aggressive guy. Prudence calls me a teddy bear; a term I find endearing and more than fitting. But every once in a while, like when my parents show up out of the blue and threaten my fucking life, I need some kind of outlet.

And I won’t be holding myself back.

This time when he swings, I duck down and get a solid jab into his ribs, and then another to his face while he staggers on his feet. He shouts, cupping his nose and trying to stem the blood that’s pouring out of it. Pathetic. Two hits aren’t nearly enough to satiate me tonight.

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