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23

Beau

The light in the gymnasium was barely enough to see by. A single hanging bulb emitted a soft, golden glow, unable to completely disperse the shadows directly in front of me.

The corrugated building was not one I remembered ever visiting before. It definitely wasn’t the gym at my high school. The pale gray walls gave the room an uncomfortable, almost sterile sensation, too clean for comfort, and the golden floor was polished and scrubbed in such a way that I could actually see my reflection in it. There were no windows that I could see, no door. There weren’t any bleachers either, making it seem even larger and sparser than it truly was.

Where the fuck was I?

One second, I was in the living room with the others, trying to ignore my raging hard-on as Bianaca’s breathy moans reached me, and the next, I was…here. Wherever “here” was.

But just before that…

I couldn’t explain it with words, but it almost felt like a tsunami of memories washed over me. Dylan. Bianaca. The knife.

My heart raced with panic as I brought my hands to my chest, checking to see if I could feel any wound. I even pulled up my shirt and ran my palm over my smooth, unblemished skin, searching for any mark that wasn’t supposed to be there.

Nothing.

I was stabbed.

The words slipped into my mind with a finality that made me nauseous. I was stabbed, and apparently, that stabbing had put me inches away from death. What the fuck happened after that? I didn’t beat up Dylan hard enough tokillhim, so how did he end up here? And what happened to Bianaca? When I last saw her, she was beaten and broken, mottled and disfigured. Did Dylan do something to her?

I needed to find her. I needed to wrap her in my arms and know with unwavering certainty that she was okay.

So how the fuck did I get out of here?

It made sense that it was my past that constructed the circle for Wrath. All of my actions had been driven by that defining emotion. When I saw Bianaca like that, I’d wanted nothing more than to destroy Dylan, rip him apart until he couldn’t even walk. Vindictive anger had coursed through me, hotter than fire and just as scalding.

Was that why I was here? Because of the rage in my heart directed at Dylan fucking Holebroke? Did I have to kill his monster, the same way Bianaca had?

My hands clenched into fists by my sides, and I couldn’t help but bare my teeth.

“Where the fuck are you, you little shit?” My raspy voice filled the room, but I refused to be silent, not when my world had been characterized by it for years. Every squeak of my sneakers against the hardwood floors echoed through the spacious room. I didn’t know where I was going, only that I couldn’t stay here. The silence felt almost…unnerving, as if this particular circle of Purgatory was mocking me. All I could hear was the sound of blood sluicing between my ears and the rapid-fire thumping of my heart. The air felt electrically charged, a current that coursed beneath my skin, and it made the fine, blond hairs on my arms stand on end.

There was something lurking in the darkness, in the quietness that permeated the room. Of that, I had no doubt.

“Dylan, is that you?” I growled, a cough tumbling from my lips. “Dylan?”

I spun in a circle, searching the darkness, but the asshole never made an appearance.

“Don’t be shy. Let’s finish this, you fucker!” I bellowed, spit flying from my mouth.

I remembered the way Bianaca had looked after Dylan raped her. The tears hanging suspended from her eyelashes. The hazy sheen in her bright blue orbs. Horror and pain emphasizing the lines of stress on her face.

And then I remembered my fists pounding into Dylan’s smug, smiling face. The way he laughed and whispered to me about how tight she was, how she screamed and cried. I…I had lost it. Any semblance of control I’d had dissipated when I heard from his own mouth about what he did to her. I’d wanted to kill him, but I knew if I did, I would spend my life behind bars.

And I wouldn’t—couldn’t—leave Bianaca behind.

But then…

But then Dylan had killed me, gutting me and then laughing while I bled out. While Bianaca’s sweet voice reached my ears, promising that I would be okay, that she would never leave me. Her face had been the last thing I saw before my eyelids fluttered shut and darkness surrounded me.

That fucker had killed me!

An enraged growl rumbled out of me as I spun in another circle, my heart pounding madly. The second I found him, I would tear him to pieces. I would—

A figure to my right moved, stepping into the thin beam of light.