Page 70
Story: Beneath Her Skin
“Willow,” I breathe against her ear.
That grabs her attention. She bites her bottom lip, her gaze fixed on me in the mirror.
My heart feels as if it will burst from my chest. I sink the tip of my index finger under the fabric of her skirt, and her body stiffens. “I want?—”
We both jump to the sound of glass shattering on the floor beneath our bedroom. Then the shouting match begins between Maria and her dick of a husband, Eric.
I let out a long sigh as I step away, realizing that whatever this was between us has ended. Willow spins around, her finger tapping a rapid rhythm on her thigh. This is usually the telltale sign that she’s scared or nervous.
I give her a weak smile. “It’s gonna be okay.” I touch the pendant on the necklace again with a soft motion, hoping that my plan works. While Willow was getting ready, I scoured the Codex for means of protection.
We know demons exist. The Saint, who claims souls on Christmas, proves it. There is so much about him, or the other supernatural beings, that we don’t know enough about yet. With the existence of demons and all the research I’ve done, I’ve deduced that magic must be real, too.
I found a protection spell, or at least I think it was, and spoke the words scrawled on the page while clasping the necklace in my hand. I need Willow to always be protected, so I hope someone, or something, listened to my plea.
I steal a glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand next to my bed. Felix should be here any minute.
“Let’s get the hell out of here and go have some fun.” I offer her my hand, which she takes without hesitation. I rake my eyes up and down her body, drinking in every inch of her. “If anyone even thinks about touching you, I’m going to break their fucking hands.”
Willow tilts her head, a curious twinkle in her emerald eyes.
“I mean it,” I emphasize.
She shakes her head with a playful grin.
More glass shatters downstairs. Maria’s screams turn into wails as her argument with her husband becomes more heated. Rolling my eyes, I dart over to Willow’s bed and grab her sketchpad and pencil. She goes nowhere without it, and it’s her only means of communication with anyone who isn’t me.
I plaster on a wide smile as I hand it to her. “Didn’t want you to forget this.”
She hugs the pad to her chest with a warm smile. I grab her hand again and turn towards the door.
“Come on,” I say, tugging her along behind me as we head outside to wait for Felix.
Felix showedup twenty minutes late, and I was starting to wonder if he was ever going to show up. But alas, his beat-up red pickup truck came rumbling down our street. The truck sounds like it’s near death, so I’m sure it woke up our entire neighborhood.
The entire ride to the party, Felix was the most quiet I’ve ever seen him. He appeared to be on edge, anxiously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, and avoiding eye contact with the both of us. Whenever I’d try to make conversation, he’d either give me one-word answers with a nervous laugh or enter a hysterical coughing fit. I exchanged uneasy glances with Willow, who just shrugged it off and squeezed my hand to show me that everything was okay.
But it’s not okay. Something about this feels wrong, but I can’t pinpoint why. Felix is our only friend—the only person who never treated us differently or judged us for who we are—surely he wouldn’t do anything to backstab us? Right?
Wrong.
Dead. Fucking. Wrong.
His truck comes to a screeching halt when he has to slam on the brakes extra hard to make the wheels stop turning. We’re parked in front of a massive white mansion, and I know this house does not belong to Felix or any of his nerdy little friends. We can hear the heavy rap bass from all the way out here. There’s a large crowd gathered outside, passing around joints and booze, laughing wildly with their friends.
And then I notice some familiar faces from our high school. This cannot be happening.
“Where the fuck did you take us, Felix?” I shout, refusing to let Willow open the truck door.
Felix opens his mouth to speak before closing it again. Seemingly, he is lost for words but as my left hand tightens into a bloodthirsty fist at my side, I’m seconds away from unleashing my knuckles into his teeth to help him spit it out. I feel Willow’s fingers tighten around our still-joined hand, and my anger ebbs slightly.
I glare at Felix as he stammers over his words like a blubbering fool. “Where. Are. We?” I bite out.
Felix takes the keys out of the ignition and hangs his head with a heavy sigh. “Vanessa invited me here, this is her place. She told me to bring you two?—”
“WHAT?” I’ve let go of Willow’s hand, fully turned in my seat to face him. “You mean the same Vanessa that targeted us for four years? The same one that made our lives a living fucking hell?”
Felix lifts his head, staring at me in shock. “Yes, but, Riles, you need to listen to me. She seemed sincere that she wanted to make amends and apologize. For all of it. She invited us as a sort of peace offering.”
That grabs her attention. She bites her bottom lip, her gaze fixed on me in the mirror.
My heart feels as if it will burst from my chest. I sink the tip of my index finger under the fabric of her skirt, and her body stiffens. “I want?—”
We both jump to the sound of glass shattering on the floor beneath our bedroom. Then the shouting match begins between Maria and her dick of a husband, Eric.
I let out a long sigh as I step away, realizing that whatever this was between us has ended. Willow spins around, her finger tapping a rapid rhythm on her thigh. This is usually the telltale sign that she’s scared or nervous.
I give her a weak smile. “It’s gonna be okay.” I touch the pendant on the necklace again with a soft motion, hoping that my plan works. While Willow was getting ready, I scoured the Codex for means of protection.
We know demons exist. The Saint, who claims souls on Christmas, proves it. There is so much about him, or the other supernatural beings, that we don’t know enough about yet. With the existence of demons and all the research I’ve done, I’ve deduced that magic must be real, too.
I found a protection spell, or at least I think it was, and spoke the words scrawled on the page while clasping the necklace in my hand. I need Willow to always be protected, so I hope someone, or something, listened to my plea.
I steal a glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand next to my bed. Felix should be here any minute.
“Let’s get the hell out of here and go have some fun.” I offer her my hand, which she takes without hesitation. I rake my eyes up and down her body, drinking in every inch of her. “If anyone even thinks about touching you, I’m going to break their fucking hands.”
Willow tilts her head, a curious twinkle in her emerald eyes.
“I mean it,” I emphasize.
She shakes her head with a playful grin.
More glass shatters downstairs. Maria’s screams turn into wails as her argument with her husband becomes more heated. Rolling my eyes, I dart over to Willow’s bed and grab her sketchpad and pencil. She goes nowhere without it, and it’s her only means of communication with anyone who isn’t me.
I plaster on a wide smile as I hand it to her. “Didn’t want you to forget this.”
She hugs the pad to her chest with a warm smile. I grab her hand again and turn towards the door.
“Come on,” I say, tugging her along behind me as we head outside to wait for Felix.
Felix showedup twenty minutes late, and I was starting to wonder if he was ever going to show up. But alas, his beat-up red pickup truck came rumbling down our street. The truck sounds like it’s near death, so I’m sure it woke up our entire neighborhood.
The entire ride to the party, Felix was the most quiet I’ve ever seen him. He appeared to be on edge, anxiously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, and avoiding eye contact with the both of us. Whenever I’d try to make conversation, he’d either give me one-word answers with a nervous laugh or enter a hysterical coughing fit. I exchanged uneasy glances with Willow, who just shrugged it off and squeezed my hand to show me that everything was okay.
But it’s not okay. Something about this feels wrong, but I can’t pinpoint why. Felix is our only friend—the only person who never treated us differently or judged us for who we are—surely he wouldn’t do anything to backstab us? Right?
Wrong.
Dead. Fucking. Wrong.
His truck comes to a screeching halt when he has to slam on the brakes extra hard to make the wheels stop turning. We’re parked in front of a massive white mansion, and I know this house does not belong to Felix or any of his nerdy little friends. We can hear the heavy rap bass from all the way out here. There’s a large crowd gathered outside, passing around joints and booze, laughing wildly with their friends.
And then I notice some familiar faces from our high school. This cannot be happening.
“Where the fuck did you take us, Felix?” I shout, refusing to let Willow open the truck door.
Felix opens his mouth to speak before closing it again. Seemingly, he is lost for words but as my left hand tightens into a bloodthirsty fist at my side, I’m seconds away from unleashing my knuckles into his teeth to help him spit it out. I feel Willow’s fingers tighten around our still-joined hand, and my anger ebbs slightly.
I glare at Felix as he stammers over his words like a blubbering fool. “Where. Are. We?” I bite out.
Felix takes the keys out of the ignition and hangs his head with a heavy sigh. “Vanessa invited me here, this is her place. She told me to bring you two?—”
“WHAT?” I’ve let go of Willow’s hand, fully turned in my seat to face him. “You mean the same Vanessa that targeted us for four years? The same one that made our lives a living fucking hell?”
Felix lifts his head, staring at me in shock. “Yes, but, Riles, you need to listen to me. She seemed sincere that she wanted to make amends and apologize. For all of it. She invited us as a sort of peace offering.”
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