Page 64 of F*ckboys

"Listen, I couldn't help but overhear all the yelling." I redden as I realize the conversation wasn't just between Cheston, Link and me, and the whole house was likely privy to it. "Link was wrong to spy on your business, and I know you hate it when they all double down and defend each other even when they're wrong," Zara says, her voice wavering. "But can you honestly say you'd never act out of love and concern for us, even if it meant making mistakes?"

"Love? This wasn't love, Zara!" I seethe, my chest tightening with every word. "This was betrayal, plain and simple. They chose their side, and now they have to live with it."

"Fallon, please…" Zara's voice cracks, and I see fresh tears in her eyes. "Don't let this destroy our family." It's only now that I realize she sees herself as belonging to the group much more than I ever gave her credit for. It always seemed like her and dad, and then the rest of us. But she views herself as part of the larger unit. Interesting. Although we all are about the same age—Cheston's older than her in fact—so it kind of makes sense.

"Maybe it's too late for that," I whisper, the words heavy with regret and pain. As I turn away from her, my gaze falls on the mirror above my vanity. The reflection staring back at me is a stranger—eyes darkened by vengeance, lips twisted into a snarl of contempt.

"Get out, Zara," I say quietly, unable to bear the sight of her any longer. She hesitates for a moment, then turns and leaves me alone in the darkness.

As the door clicks shut behind her, my resolve hardens like ice around my heart. This isn't just about Link anymore, it's about all of them. I feel more on the outside than ever.

"Watch your backs, brothers," I murmur, my voice low and cold as the shadows that now envelop us all. "You've awakened something you'll come to regret."

Chapter 33

Fallon

The cold steel of the knife glints in my hand as darkness beckons me, urging me to embrace the shadows. My heart pounds in anticipation, a twisted excitement building within me. I've always been one to toe the line between right and wrong, but now that line is blurring, leaving me with an odd sense of satisfaction.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" I taunt, my voice barely above a whisper. The man before me, bound and helpless, trembles as terror consumes him. This pathetic creature once caused me so much pain, and now, it's my turn to return the favor.

"Please... Fallon, don't do this," he pleads, tears streaming down his face. I smile, reveling in the power I now hold over him.

"Your words mean nothing to me anymore," I spit, my anger fueled by the emotional wounds he inflicted on me and the weight of family expectations that linger like a heavy fog. "You're going to pay for everything you put me through."

My mind races with thoughts of vengeance, each new idea more sinister than the last. Every fiber of my being yearns to see him suffer, just as he made me suffer. I take a deep breath, steadying my trembling hands, and approach him with a newfound sense of purpose.

"Let's see how you like having your world turned upside down," I say, grinning wickedly as the blade dances dangerously close to his skin. He whimpers, trying to keep his composure in the face of impending doom.

"Fallon, please... you don't have to do this," he begs again, desperation etched on his tear-stained face.

"Ah, but you see..." I reply, my voice dripping with malice, "I want to." My grip tightens around the handle of the knife as I prepare myself for the delicious thrill of taking control, of watching him squirm and writhe beneath me.

"Remember when you said I was weak?" I hiss, my lips curling into a sinister smile. "You were wrong." And with that, I drive the knife into his thigh, watching in rapturous delight as he screams in pain. The sound is music to my ears, a symphony of revenge that resonates within my soul.

The man whimpers in shock and agony as I yank the blade out and plunge it into his other thigh this time, leaving a matching wound. I yank the lengthy blade out and this time I plunge it into his chest. He shrieks as blood begins to shoot from his legs. I hook my arm and stab the knife through the side of his head this time, just to mix things up.

I'll always remember his screams. The shrieks of excruciating agony. The way his neck feels as I step around behind him, hold his head steady and slit his throat, enjoying the view of crimsonliquid gushing from the wound. The way his eyes grow large, bulging, his breath ragged, before his head lolls to the side and he grows increasingly still.

The lines between right and wrong have vanished, leaving me adrift in a sea of murky gray where morality is but a fleeting memory. It's intoxicating, this newfound power I wield, and as I stare at the man who once held dominion over me, I can't help but feel an unsettling pleasure coursing through my veins.

"Welcome," I whisper, my voice barely audible amidst his cries of agony, "to the darkness."

I wake with a start, bolting upright, and, as my eyes adjust to the light, I realize I'm in the safety of my own office chair. As in, not stabbing a guy whose face seemed to alternate between that of the many men I've sought revenge on before: my dad, Link, and of course, Aksel. Even Cheston's face swirled into focus for a moment. The guys who hurt me back in school. Every guy who has ever wronged me… like a dream punching bag, but with murder.

But as disturbing as the nightmare was, it leaves me feeling a little excited. Maybe some people would say I need help. But I'm just fine with the way I am.

The night air is crisp, the shadows stretching across the ground of my office like long fingers grasping for something to hold onto. As I stand in the dimly lit room, I can feel the darkness seeping into my very being, filling the void left by a lifetime of disappointments and pain. I'm still a little thrown that I fell asleep at work, but the mental exhaustion of the past few weeks has been intense.

I feel a little groggy and also a bit giddy. Unusual. That dream or nightmare or whatever it was seems to have awakenedsomething inside of me. A bloodlust, an invincibility. Maybe it's a sign from the universe, or from my subconscious, that my revenge plans are exactly what I should be doing.

"Fallon?" Mia's voice floats through the gloom, a lighthouse offering safe harbor amidst the encroaching shadows. Her petite frame appears in the doorway, her soft features etched with concern. "You're still here? It's late."

"Ah, Mia," I murmur, a cruel smirk playing on my lips. "Just the person I wanted to see."

"Fallon, what's going on? You seem... different," she says cautiously, her dark curls framing her delicate face.

"Have you ever felt the power of absolute control, Mia? The kind that sends shivers down your spine?" My laughter, tinged with an eerie delight, resonates in the room. I feel a little unhinged as I give into my compulsion to say whatever's on my mind.

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