Page 10

TEN

JORDAN

M y muscles strained, sweat trickling down my skin as I worked my body, subjecting my limbs to a variety of lateral pull-downs. The muscles in my neck and shoulders tensed with every movement, my breaths coming out ragged.

“No.” She’d said, a look of defiance crossing her face.

How big and bad would she be if I had her at my fucking mercy? My lips curled into a snarl, picturing all the ways I could teach her a goddamn lesson about defiance. No one told me no . Not unless they wanted to pay for it.

I eased off the machine, my chest heaving up and down from the workout. My mind flashed back to Valentine, causing rage to fill every crevice of my being. He wasn’t always such a goody-two-shoes. We were even close at one point. All of that changed the night I murdered his parents—not that I blamed him entirely, but the night he walked out, I’d needed him in that moment more than I’d ever needed anyone. He turned his fucking back on me. For that, he was dead to me. Just like he said I was dead to him.

I crossed the gym, moving toward the basin and retrieved a washcloth, dampening it and dabbing it across my face and aching limbs.

Rosalie needs to pay.

Valentine needs to pay.

They all need to fucking pay.

“How do I make them pay?” I whispered, my head throbbing as the voices started merging together. I braced my hands on the sink and bowed my head, my arms trembling from exertion, adrenaline, and exhaustion.

Fuck Rosalie bloody. Just like you did to Lucille.

My head whipped from side to side. No. “Archer.” I breathed out. “He wants her.” I could see the appeal. She was stunning, but that was where my attraction for her ended. I wouldn’t lose sleep over her dying, but he would.

If you fucked her first, it would make her less appealing to him. Maniacal laughter rang out, bouncing around my skull as the words from the nameless voice flooded through my mind. My jaw tightened. It wasn’t wrong.

My head spun as I turned for the exit, the voices beginning to quiet right when I needed them most, but they told me what they wanted. I just wasn’t sure if I was willing to do it or not.

I made my way to my room and started sifting through my closet for a change of clothes. After gathering them, I made my way to the bathroom and jumped in the shower. Tilting my head back, the hot water ran down the hard planes of my stomach.

Fuck her bloody.

A groan erupted from my throat at the mere thought of burying myself deep inside her. In my head, she screamed, begged me to stop, scratched at my skin, but it was no use. It had been a while since I fucked, and my balls were aching for release. I’d already fucked a handful of the girls that were less crazy here—I didn’t go back for seconds. That wasn’t me.

After cleaning myself, I dropped my things off in my room and made a beeline for art therapy, slipping into the seat nearest to the door. I grabbed one of the art kits, pulling it in front of me. I didn’t bother waiting for Mrs. Marlene and immediately started smudging. When she finally entered—late as hell at that—I didn’t bother looking up or listening as she droned on and on. If she couldn’t even bother to be punctual, then she could forget about my acknowledgement or respect in general. Fuck that stupid bitch.

My fingers were a mess of gray smudge by the time I’d finished and then I moved on to painting, grabbing a clean sheet of paper and a brush. I dipped it in the water before stroking it in the red paint and swiped it against the page. Blood . It was the color of blood. My heart started racing. I might not have been interested in drinking blood like Seven was, but I could still admire the way it looked.

I had no image in mind as I moved the brush along the white canvas. My thoughts eased into nothing with each brush. Red splatter coated the page in various places, and I dipped my paintbrush back in the water before sliding it in the dark blue paint and repeated the motion.

By the time I was finished, my masterpiece consisted of red, black, blue, and purple. The paint merged together, giving it almost a marble effect. My chest felt ten times lighter than it had. Rising, I took my art and vacated the room.

As I was nearing my bedroom, my eyes landed on Rachel who was lurking outside my door. Her hair fell flat against her back and as if sensing me, she turned, her brown eyes meeting mine. A smile broke out across her face, and she moved to greet me at the corner of the hallway.

“I was looking for you,” she purred in that annoying raspy tone that both she and Alina shared.

I grunted in disinterest. I’d fucked Rachel years ago, before I knew how much of a nutcase she was. It wasn’t the fact that she’d killed her sister that deterred me; it was the narcissism more or less and the manipulation. She was good at getting what she wanted.

Her eyes darted to the papers clutched in my hand. “You just came back from the art room?” she pressed, stating the obvious.

“What do you want, Rachel?” I growled in a bored tone.

Annoyance flashed across her face, but I knew it wasn’t because she wanted to converse in small talk. It was because she wanted to lead up to what she wanted from me. It made manipulating her prey easier—gave them a false sense of security. I knew all about narcissism and about Rachel’s preferred tactics in general.

She shifted on her feet, jutting out her hip, and leaned against the wall on her left. “Do you want to hang out?”

I rolled my eyes. “Not particularly.” I moved to walk past her, but she pushed off the wall and cut into my path, stopping right in front of me.

Her version of hanging out meant she wanted to fuck. She just wasn’t stupid enough to try such a direct approach with me, knowing I’d shut it down instantly. My jaw ticked in frustration. I just wanted to put my art up and meet up with the guys. They were probably already waiting for me in the library.

“Come on, Jordan,” she pushed with a seductive smile. “You know it’ll be fun.”

I snorted at that. “Not likely.” When we had messed around in the past it was awkward. She kept telling me to go harder and deeper, and not in the sexy kind of way. It wasn’t that I was lacking in the dick department, it just wasn’t enough. She’d probably need at least four cocks in her pussy at once to feel sated. She wasn’t loose by any means, just…was never satisfied regardless of how many times I made her come. From what I’ve heard, Alina was even worse when it came to sex.

Rachel’s lips twisted into a scowl, but I was already brushing past her and slipping into my room before she had a chance to say anything else. Blowing out a breath, I placed my drawings in the safe within my closet and drifted over to my bed, sitting on the edge.

My hands moved through my thick, dirty blonde hair and I tugged, reveling in the small pain that shot through my scalp from the action. The voices were quieter, mingling together in the recesses of my mind. It used to bother me, but now I wasn’t sure how I’d function without them. They helped me, talking me into things I was too cowardly to do on my own. The only thing that sucked sometimes was when they played on my paranoia, which could sometimes result in a deadly outcome. I wasn’t always aware of my episodes. Sometimes, it felt so real that I truly believed it. There were also times where I could differentiate between reality and what my mind told me, but it wasn’t often. It made me feel fucking unhinged, never knowing what was real and what wasn’t. Maybe I just needed to let go and let the voices and paranoia lead me. All consequences be damned.

Archer and Seven would stand by me no matter what. That’s more than can be said for my own family . They were the only ones who understood me, the only ones who would never turn their backs on me. In turn, I’d do the same for them. Whatever they needed, even if that meant standing guard while they fucked. My lips twitched in amusement upon remembering the first time they had sex in front of me. They’d been so hesitant, worrying about how I’d feel, but they didn’t want to kick me out and were feeling each other. Frankly, I didn’t want to leave either. I’d been in a dark place at the time and didn’t want to be alone. I simply told them not to mind me and turned to my sketch book. Since then, it’s been somewhat of a normal occurrence.

“Fuck,” I muttered aloud.

The guys were most likely in the library right now, waiting for me. The library that just so happened to be near the West Wing. It was a sanctuary for us, but we tried to steer clear of the patients near there since we knew nothing about them. I hated unpredictability.

Rising, I crossed my room and slipped out into the hall. Glancing both ways, my shoulders relaxed when it appeared empty. People bothered me. I hated the way they looked at me, the way they tried to talk to me, hated when they broke down because they couldn’t put a cap on their emotions. It happened more frequently with females, but men could be just as pathetic.

My skin crawled as I navigated my way toward the West Wing. They said it was a side effect of my psychosis. It used to make me scratch at my arms, to pick at old scabs, and to pull at my hair—which I still did from time to time. Things have gotten somewhat easier since then, though.

When I reached the library, I made my way to the back, spotting the guys on the couch instantly. I dropped into the outside seat, sitting hip to hip with Archer.

He turned to face me, accusation shining in his eyes. “Took you long enough.” He huffed, easing back into the cushions of the couch.

“Got held up.” I shrugged, not caring enough to give them a play by play.

A smile curled the corners of Archer’s mouth as he looked at me and then turned to glance at Seven who stared back, just as confused as I was about his sudden switch in demeanor.

“Guess what I just found out about Rose?—”

“Goddamnit,” Seven growled. “Enough about her.”

I snorted in amusement. He was right, though. Since Archer first laid eyes on her, she’s been all he could talk about. The guy in question snapped his gaze to Seven’s. I couldn’t see his expression, but if the stiffness in his shoulders was anything to go by, it was easy to assume he wasn’t pleased with the outburst.

“What the hell is your problem?” Archer demanded.

He scoffed. “You do nothing but talk about her. Whenever you see her, you run off to talk to her. You’re fucking obsessed , man, and you don’t even seem to realize it.”

Archer turned to look at me, confusion imprinted within his features as he searched my gaze for some kind of protest to what Seven had just said, but he’d find none. “He has a point,” I admitted, knowing that wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but someone had to say it. His obsessions didn’t bother me much, it was just annoying sometimes. Especially when I didn’t even want to think about the girl who had pissed me off mere days ago.

“So what?” he finally said, whipping his head back to his lover. “Are you jealous, Seven, is that it?”

Silence stretched over us for a few moments, the tension building. It wouldn’t surprise me if one of them snapped right here and went ballistic. Not that I’d let them do any real damage to one another. That was one thing they wouldn’t be able to come back from. Plus, I cared too much to let one of them die.

As anticipated, Seven reached out, wrapping his hand around Archer’s throat and tugged him forward so that they were face to face. “Fuck you,” he growled in a low tone. His eyes flashed with fury, but there was also a shift in the air filled with sexual tension.

I released a sigh. “Guys. Cool it. We don’t even know what Archer was about to say.” I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit curious. After the stunt she pulled, knowing everything about her would be in my best interest.

Seven released him, shoving him back as he did which made him fall back into me. “I don’t really give a shit what he has to say if it’s about her ,” he snapped. My eyes met his and I gave him a slight shake of my head. Archer couldn’t help it. It was part of what made him who he was. It was why he was here in the first place. We didn’t judge Seven for his bloodlust, so why would it be okay for us to do it to Archer?

As if sensing where my train of thought had gone, Seven relented, slouching into the sofa with defeat. “Fine,” he muttered, turning his attention to Archer. “Continue.”

Archer ran his hand down the back of his neck, shifting nervously between us. “I don’t know if I want to tell you now.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, you do. Seven will be on his best behavior, right?” My eyes darted to his and I shot him a pointed look. He released a sigh but reluctantly nodded.

“Fine. I’ll tell you, but can we switch spots just in case Seven snaps?” He inquired, meeting my gaze.

I huffed a laugh. Archer could take him if he wanted to, but I knew he didn’t want it to come to that. I rose, giving him the opportunity to scoot over. When he did, I slid into the spot between them and glanced over at him expectantly.

“Now,” he began. “What I was going to say before I was rudely and pointlessly interrupted…” He shot Seven a pointed look with a hint of playfulness added to it. “Was that Rosalie is a virgin .” He emphasized.

My heart rate increased at that information. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever been with a virgin before. The mere thought of it had my blood heating within my veins. I’d take her by force without easing her into it, reveling in the way she screamed and clawed at my shoulders and back. She would hurt so fucking good, cry so fucking pretty, beg for a mercy that wouldn’t be granted, and bleed so beautifully.

Seven’s hesitant tone snapped me out of the fantasy my wicked mind had conjured up. “You’re sure about this?” he asked, his eyebrows drawn together as if he himself were conjuring up his own ideas.

Archer nodded. “She’d gain nothing by telling me that. She actually seems scared of me.” He snorted as if that thought was ridiculous when in reality, Rosalie had every right to fear him—to fear any of us.

“Her boyfriend hasn’t fucked her?” he inquired skeptically.

Archer laughed. “Apparently not. Stupid motherfucker.”

I nodded in agreement. Who wouldn’t have sex with their girlfriend? Was that his decision, hers, or was it mutual? Now, I was intrigued.

A thoughtful expression crossed Seven’s face and his lips slowly curled into a malicious smile like he’d just been hit with an idea. “I want her blood,” he decided.

I threw my head back against the sofa and groaned. Asshole. I’d give it to him, only because then, he’d probably shut up about hating her so much. I didn’t expect him to magically be okay with her after having her so intimately, but it was a start.

Archer scoffed. “What happened to you wanting nothing to do with her?” he challenged. “You think she’s just going to let you fuck her? You’ve never even spoken to her.” He kept rambling, his tone getting higher and higher in pitch.

“She doesn’t have to let me do anything.” Seven shrugged. “I’ll fucking take it.” He turned to Archer who was still trying to process what he’d just said. “Think about it this way,” he continued. “If I steal her virginity, you can play the white knight and come to her rescue. I don’t give a fuck. I just want her blood.”

“He has a good point,” I chimed in. “She’ll be emotionally vulnerable. It works in your favor.”

What are you doing?

You’re supposed to fuck her.

Imagine what that virgin cunt would feel like.

I swallowed thickly, trying my best to ignore the voices that were growing louder and louder by the second.

“Fine,” Archer agreed. “We have a deal.”