Page 3 of Crave

Dad…

And death.

I stopped at the closed door, my heart pounding. That uncontrollable urge to look over my shoulder reared its head. I spent my whole life in this house doing just that. Watching out for them, always ready for their cruel words and their hateful stare.

They didn’t want me before, and they sure as Hell won’t want me now.

A name meant nothing.

I wasn’t a true Ares.

I was a fake…and a liar.

My fingers shook as I grabbed the round, ornate brass handle, turned then pushed. Flashes of images assuaged me. Then and now. Then…with the blood sprayed across the room and my mother’s dead body sprawled out in front of the desk and now with the desk clean and uncluttered. Not a book was out of place. Not a pen on the desk. Nothing but cleanness…and the faint scent of alcohol.

Then…

I took a step, my pulse thundering in my ears as I settled on the brand new chair pushed into place. But that wasn’t the chair that’d been here. That wasn’t the chair in my head. No, the soft brown leather of that chair was darkened with splatters of blood, just like the arc of spray that cut across the books behind him. The ones now removed.

I took a step deeper inside, moving around the edge of the desk and lifted my hand to the bookshelf. That throbbing, growing thing crawled up my chest and into the base of my throat. My fault…my—fault.

“What areyoudoing here?”

I spun around and stumbled backwards, finding Silas standing in the doorway.

“Well?” He stepped inside, scanned the desk and the computer and anything else I might’ve touched.

“Nothing.” I murmured, lowered my head and made for the door.

He grabbed my arm, jerked me around until he pushed me hard against the desk.GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!The words burned in his stare. Even if they didn’t reach his lips. It didn’t matter that this house was all I remembered. That this family was the only family I knew.

“They…” I whispered. “Were my family too.”

His lips curled before he pushed me away like he was revolted by the touch of me. His hard chest rose with a breath. He didn’t wear a tie now, in the corner of my eye I saw it clenched in his grip. But I stared at the tattoos that now peeked out from his open shirt.

“Don’t come in here again.” He snarled, staring at the desk instead of me.“Now, get the fuck out.”

I moved as fast as my trembling legs would carry me, lunging around him and scurrying for the door. I didn’t stop, not until I raced along the hallway and turned down to the small wing of our rooms.

Gabriel’s music slipped out from under his closed bedroom door. His words still hovered in the back of my mind. But I didn’t stop as I hurried past, yanked the handle of my bedroom door and stumbled inside.

Soft, pale pink greeted me. I closed the door behind me and leaned back against the frame as tears welled in my eyes. We don’t want you…we don’t want you. We don’t…

Warmth spilled, raining down my cheeks. I had to get out now. I had to find a way to leave. I pushed off the door and stumbled to my bed, my mind racing with just how to do that. This wasn’t about their outright hatred of my existence. No, this vein of betrayal flowed deeper.

The police ruled it as a murder suicide, even my parents own friends whispered as such standing behind us at the funeral. As cruel as that was…it was better than the truth. Better than knowing what happened.

Better for them.

And for me.

I grabbed my cell from the bedside cupboard, finding the only person who could help me now.

I’m ready to leave here now. Can you help?

I hit send and waited, lifting my gaze to the bedroom door. It was weeks since my parent’s deaths, weeks while I waited for the truth to come out. It hadn’t. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to. I knew only too well what would happen then.

They’d come for me.