Page 134 of That Sik Luv

I crack my neck at the sentiment directed towards my Briony as she tosses the wig at her feet, shaking out her long black signature locks. Saint stares with an expressionless face, stunned at the realization.

Feeling the darkness building within me, threatening to release the very rage I’ve tried so hard to mold, I keep my focus on her to calm myself.

“How dare you infiltrate this and deceive my son! You’ll pay. You’ll regret this for the rest of your miserable, useless fucking life!”

We’re all at a standstill. Nerves are on high as the energy of the room shifts to terror in the surrounding faces.

Nox laughs. “Well, my loyalty’s always been with the outcasts. Bones just sold me on the idea.” He shrugs his shoulders. “It was creative and sounded fun. Things tend to get repetitive around here.”

I bite back my smirk. The man’s more insane than me.

“So this was your idea?” Callum directs the question at me. “Your plan all along. Bring us all here together, huh? Get your sweet little broken boy revenge because you had a whore for a mother.”

Briony’s fingers roll into tight fists, her lip twitching as those coals within her soul ignite and revenge is the only flame burning.

“You fucking played with me and my money,” Alastor growls, looking down at me.

He winds up and hits me with the blunt end of his gun. My head whips to the side, blood spewing from my mouth, and Briony charges him.

“Don’t.” I say to the floor, spitting out more blood.

She immediately obeys my command, pausing in place. I need Alastor’s gun steady on me and not her.

“I got you out! You’re indebted to me. My weapon!” Alastor continues.

A dry chuckle leaves my throat. It builds, and it builds until I’m laughing hysterically. My head falls back, and the blood draining into my mouth spills to the back of my throat.

“I did.” I continue laughing. “I played you. I played Cal, I played Saint, I played Bishop Caldwell...fuck, I even played sweet Briony, here.” Her eyes find mine. “But I’m not your weapon.” I nod towards Bishop Caldwell. “I’m not his church boy whore.” I nod towards Saint. “I’m not the shadow of a golden boy.” I stare down Callum, my tone shifting into a gritty growl. “And I’m not his dark, deceitful dirt, so carefully brushed under many an old rug.”

I pause to catch my breath. The pain in my chest is overwhelming as my focus falls upon her again.

“I’m her salvation.” I wince, peering back at my Briony. “Just as she is mine.”

“Lodge that bullet into his fucking head!” Callum yells to Alastor. “He ruined us! He fucking ruined us! Saint is everywhere. The video is going viral.”

“What?!” Saint says breathlessly. “N-no, no. No, it can’t be, Dad, it can’t! I deleted it! I...” He hisses in pain, attempting to turn from the table, but she literally nailed his hands to it. Two holes in his palms, just like Christ himself.

Creative as fuck, Briony.

Briony shakes her head in disbelief as she takes in his words. Her gaze finds mine, and relief overtakes her. My smile drops as I nod at her.

You did it, baby.

I’d tried my best to be distant and disconnected, to terrify her to the best of my abilities in that room. To appear cold and utterly heartless so her tears were raw and real as he violated her like she had so angelically approved. It was all recorded. The use of the crucifix, the anger he portrayed as I spewed my words in the silent background, the timely slaps before he fucked her tied to that bed. It was all in that video. And just as the witness came running in, I’d successfully uploaded the clip to the dark web, where content of this nature truly takes off and spreads like wildfire.

“I was coerced! Fuck!” Saint yells from the table, his blood pooling over the edge and dripping to the floor beneath him. “It wasn’t me, Briony. Don’t you see it?” He shakes his head in disbelief as she turns to face him. “I’m not that guy. I’m not like them.”

Not like them.

Briony blinks slowly, studying Saint until she tilts her head back towards Baret. She gives him a simple nod, and he understands her without words, like siblings would, tossing her the gun and pulling out another to keep pointed at Caldwell. She catches it with one hand, pointing at Saint’s temple. He swallows, breathing hard through his nostrils.

“Briony, please. What happened in that room was a mistake. It’s not who I am. It’s who they wanted me to be. My head is a mess of confusion and lies, just like yours...I was lost, okay? I’m not who they want me to be! I’m innocent.”

“Why should I believe you?” she asks softly, tipping her head, causing her black hair to drape over her shoulder. “Give me one good reason.”

I shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts at the moment, but fuck, she’s gorgeous, covered in the blood of another man while her delicate hand holds that thick gun. Power looks stunning on her.

“He knows who your father is!” Saint spits out, his body shaking. “Aero knows.”

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