Page 54
Story: Sins of Autumn
“I will do every morally bankrupt, vile, terrible thing to keep you,” he promised, his voice unwavering. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice to make sure you’re mine, to make sure you’re safe, and to make sure you never leave me again.”
Each word was a confession, a vow, and a threat all wrapped in one. I couldn’t look away, couldn’t move as my mind screamed for me to run. Run where? I just tried that and got nowhere but fucked in the dirt.
“Now we’re going to walk out of here, and you’re going to choose how this ends.” He let go of my face and took my hand, his grip firm but not forceful, and led me out of the bathroom.
My legs felt like jelly as I descended the stairs, each step a monumental effort. The house felt heavier somehow, the air thick and oppressive like it knew something I didn’t. When we reached the dining room, my stomach lurched. The space had been rearranged.
The table was on its side, shoved carelessly against the far wall. In its place sat two chairs facing one another, bound and gagged occupants in each. Cherish and Ryan. Their knees nearly touched, their faces streaked with dried tears.
The others were all there, scattered throughout the room. Atlas leaned against the wall; arms crossed. Romeo was in the corner, his mask lifted enough for him to eat. He was spearing pieces of leftover chicken with the same knife he’d used on Daniella, chewing casually as though none of this were out of the ordinary.
KJ stood near the edge of the room, her posture relaxed, though her presence radiated an eerie sort of tension. Thorne looked between me and the scene before him, as if he were assessing every thought I might have. Lucian stood in the center of the room, turning to face me as soon as I entered.
“Looking much better, Tums,” he said smoothly, his tone kind.
It only made the situation feel more surreal. My eyes were solely on my sister. I could see her chest heaving beneath the bindings. Her muffled screams broke something inside me.
“What is this?” I managed to croak.
KJ moved suddenly, skipping forward with a theatrical flourish. “Will you be the lamb at the altar,” she asked, her tone singsong, “or the hand that wields the blade?”
“What?” The word left my mouth before I could process her question. “What does that mean?”
KJ laughed, spinning away like the deranged psycho she had proven to be. “Choices, choices!” she trilled, leaving me even more unsettled.
Wilder stepped in closer, his voice measured as he addressed me.
“You have a choice.” He gestured toward the chairs. “Ryan or your sister.”
“That’s not a choice,” I stated evenly. “Cherish is the only option.”
“Ouch,” Hunter deadpanned.
Thorne laughed. “We love a decisive woman.”
KJ moved faster than I could process, her movements a blur of sharp, practiced precision.
“Cherish!” I screamed, my voice ripping through the air, but it was already too late. The blade flashed, cold and merciless, and then there was blood—so much blood. It sprayed across the floor and onto Ryan, glistening dark and cruel under the low light, soaking into Cherish’s clothes, her lifeless body slumping forward like a marionette with its strings cut.
“No! No!” My legs buckled beneath me, but fury surged through the collapse, a tidal wave of rage and despair that demanded release.
Wilder’s grip tightened holding me back. My chest heaved, my lungs burning as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. My sister—mysister—was gone.
“Easy,” he soothed. It was wrong—so wrong. His tone, his composure, his very presence, everything about it mocked the gaping wound he’d just created in my chest.
My sister was gone. Gone? How was this real? How could he stand there and act like this wasn’t the end of everything?
“Mint,” he repeated, his voice carrying an unbearable mix of warning and tenderness. “Stop, baby. You’ll make yourself sick like this.”
I twisted harder, my nails clawing at the gloves that pinned me. With every ounce of rage and grief in my body, I threw myself into him, causing his back to hit the wall. The impact made him grunt, and for one fleeting second, I thought I’d won.
His grip faltered just enough for me to get halfway free, but then his arms were around me again, crushing me against his chest with relentless strength. “That’s enough,” he said, his voice cold now.
“Cherish didn’t see the bigger picture. She didn’t approve of your relationship. She was never going to fit in with us,” Lucian explained calmly.
“You’re fucking insane,” I snarled. “All of you are!”
“She’s not wrong,” Romeo sang around a bite of chicken. “We still love ya though.”
Each word was a confession, a vow, and a threat all wrapped in one. I couldn’t look away, couldn’t move as my mind screamed for me to run. Run where? I just tried that and got nowhere but fucked in the dirt.
“Now we’re going to walk out of here, and you’re going to choose how this ends.” He let go of my face and took my hand, his grip firm but not forceful, and led me out of the bathroom.
My legs felt like jelly as I descended the stairs, each step a monumental effort. The house felt heavier somehow, the air thick and oppressive like it knew something I didn’t. When we reached the dining room, my stomach lurched. The space had been rearranged.
The table was on its side, shoved carelessly against the far wall. In its place sat two chairs facing one another, bound and gagged occupants in each. Cherish and Ryan. Their knees nearly touched, their faces streaked with dried tears.
The others were all there, scattered throughout the room. Atlas leaned against the wall; arms crossed. Romeo was in the corner, his mask lifted enough for him to eat. He was spearing pieces of leftover chicken with the same knife he’d used on Daniella, chewing casually as though none of this were out of the ordinary.
KJ stood near the edge of the room, her posture relaxed, though her presence radiated an eerie sort of tension. Thorne looked between me and the scene before him, as if he were assessing every thought I might have. Lucian stood in the center of the room, turning to face me as soon as I entered.
“Looking much better, Tums,” he said smoothly, his tone kind.
It only made the situation feel more surreal. My eyes were solely on my sister. I could see her chest heaving beneath the bindings. Her muffled screams broke something inside me.
“What is this?” I managed to croak.
KJ moved suddenly, skipping forward with a theatrical flourish. “Will you be the lamb at the altar,” she asked, her tone singsong, “or the hand that wields the blade?”
“What?” The word left my mouth before I could process her question. “What does that mean?”
KJ laughed, spinning away like the deranged psycho she had proven to be. “Choices, choices!” she trilled, leaving me even more unsettled.
Wilder stepped in closer, his voice measured as he addressed me.
“You have a choice.” He gestured toward the chairs. “Ryan or your sister.”
“That’s not a choice,” I stated evenly. “Cherish is the only option.”
“Ouch,” Hunter deadpanned.
Thorne laughed. “We love a decisive woman.”
KJ moved faster than I could process, her movements a blur of sharp, practiced precision.
“Cherish!” I screamed, my voice ripping through the air, but it was already too late. The blade flashed, cold and merciless, and then there was blood—so much blood. It sprayed across the floor and onto Ryan, glistening dark and cruel under the low light, soaking into Cherish’s clothes, her lifeless body slumping forward like a marionette with its strings cut.
“No! No!” My legs buckled beneath me, but fury surged through the collapse, a tidal wave of rage and despair that demanded release.
Wilder’s grip tightened holding me back. My chest heaved, my lungs burning as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. My sister—mysister—was gone.
“Easy,” he soothed. It was wrong—so wrong. His tone, his composure, his very presence, everything about it mocked the gaping wound he’d just created in my chest.
My sister was gone. Gone? How was this real? How could he stand there and act like this wasn’t the end of everything?
“Mint,” he repeated, his voice carrying an unbearable mix of warning and tenderness. “Stop, baby. You’ll make yourself sick like this.”
I twisted harder, my nails clawing at the gloves that pinned me. With every ounce of rage and grief in my body, I threw myself into him, causing his back to hit the wall. The impact made him grunt, and for one fleeting second, I thought I’d won.
His grip faltered just enough for me to get halfway free, but then his arms were around me again, crushing me against his chest with relentless strength. “That’s enough,” he said, his voice cold now.
“Cherish didn’t see the bigger picture. She didn’t approve of your relationship. She was never going to fit in with us,” Lucian explained calmly.
“You’re fucking insane,” I snarled. “All of you are!”
“She’s not wrong,” Romeo sang around a bite of chicken. “We still love ya though.”
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