Page 59

Dylan was positively delusional. Insane. I’d always suspected that he was a ticking time bomb just seconds from detonating, but I never thought I would bear witness to that inevitability. I’d assumed I would be long gone by then, but fate was a fickle bitch. It liked to stab you in the back when you weren’t looking and then smile to your face, promising that everything would be okay.

“Just admit that you love me, Bianaca,” he pleaded, his fingernails digging into my skin.

“Fuck you.”

Another slap.

“JUST ADMIT IT!” Spit flew from his mouth and landed on my face, but I couldn’t raise a hand to wipe it away. His knees pressed down on both of my wrists with enough pressure, I feared he’d break them.

“Dylan, please. Just let me go.”

I turned towards where the flashlight had fallen moments before, the thin beam aimed in our direction, a macabre spotlight.

“I can’t do that, little sister.” His hands slowly slid down my stomach until they once again rested on the waistband of my jeans. “I can’t do that. I can’t do that.”

He flicked open the button, revealing my panties.

“Dylan!” I sobbed.

Hunger manifested in his gaze as he stared at the top of my white thong, his tongue once again darting out to lick his lips. His body shifted, freeing my hands, and I didn’t hesitate to reach forward and jab both of my thumbs into his eyes.

The scream he released was music to my ears, and he sat up abruptly, blood cascading down his cheeks.

I used his momentary lapse of concentration to kick him off of me, and his head careened off the ground. With renewed vigor, I jumped on top of him, planting blow after blow into his normally smug, grinning face.

“I.”Punch. “Hate.”Punch. “You.” A tooth flew from his mouth, disappearing into the darkness. Just like in the gymnasium, his face was mottled with hideous bruises, blood dripping down his cheeks like bright red tears. I’d thought it was therapeutic to take my rage out on that monster wearing his face, but it paled in comparison to this moment. I was vengeance personified, rage and pain and anger, and for the first time in years, I had a suitable outlet.

Dylan had destroyed me. Made me believe I wasn’t deserving of love. He’d made me a victim, and as such, I’d considered myself one. But I had been reforged in the flames of hell, no longer held by shackles of civility. My rage had transformed me into a better version of myself, a new and improved Bianaca.

I wasn’t broken.

I was a survivor, and I was stronger than ever before.

Dylan began to laugh, the noise raspy and guttural, as I stared down into his distorted, nearly unrecognizable face.

“I hate you,” I whispered to him. I felt as if they were fitting final words. There was an entire monologue I yearned to say to him, but he didn’t deserve a second more of my time. He didn’t need to know about the tears I’d shed at night because of him and his actions. He didn’t need to hear about all I’d endured mentally and physically. He didn’t deserve to bear witness to my pain.

My hand closed around the flashlight as I moved to my feet.

“Are you going to kill me, little sister?” he taunted from where he lay on the ground, his voice rife with pain.

“No.” Numbness cocooned me, along with the realization that…he didn’t matter. He hadn’t mattered in the gym when the monster inside of him became flesh, and he didn’t matter now. If I gave him another ounce of my attention, that meant he won.

And I refused to let him win.

The flashlight shook as I turned away from him, intending on searching for Tanner, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“You should’ve killed me when you had the chance,” Dylan whispered in my ear. His hands moved to my neck, andoh my god.He was going to snap it. I scratched at his hands as his fingers dug into my skin, twisting—

And then was thrown off of me into the darkness beyond.

Fear gripped my heart in an iron vise, refusing to release it, as I spun around, staring at the figure sheathed in darkness. A cloak obscured their features from view, but I noticed that they carried a scythe in their right hand.

I scrambled back a step, my tears feeling scalding hot on my cheeks, and worked to push down my shirt and rebutton my pants.

Somewhere in the distance, Dylan screamed in terror, the noise immediately followed by a growl. And then a second growl. And then a third.

And then…