Page 23 of His Trick

The sound of Carrington’s laugh was still inside my fucking head, a phantom I couldn’t tear out despite my best efforts. He’d done it. He’d made me come. My own body had betrayed me in front of him, and now I was soaked.

I wanted to rip myself apart. I wanted to tear every piece of skin off my body and burn any remnants he left…but it was his hands that left more than just marks on my flesh. It felt like a brand on my soul.

How can I burn something that is embedded in my damn psyche?

The bonfire was a smear of orange in the distance, laughter echoing through the maze like a language I could no longer speak.

I didn’t head toward it.

Fuck that.

If I saw Xanthy right now, I would likely punish her for what her brother did. Instead, I veered off the path, deeper, into the woods. Every step was my own way of punching the earth, punishing the one thing I could.

I didn’t stop until the shadows swallowed me whole, allowing the familiarity of darkness like an old friend. I couldn’t let myself falter. I couldn’t succumb to the darkness that boiled inside me. I suppressed the need to rip one of those fucking imbeciles out of the maze and flay off their skin, like I itched to do to myself.

A sound slipped throught the night air, just the slightest noise. A shuffle in the dark, a break in the silence that reprogrammed my anger into calculation and trajectory.

A rabbit, small and stupid, frozen in the brush like it knew I was something to fear. My chest heaved harder before I dragged the air into my lungs, holding my breath and remaining silent.

Before I could think, I lunged.

My hands closed around it, its soft fur plush under my palms, with the fragile bones shifting as it squirmed for freedom.

It kicked and squealed, its pathetic heart hammering against my grip.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Shut up,” I hissed. My arms trembled with the urge to squeeze, to break something, anything, to feel the bones snap instead of my pride crumbling.

I flipped the creature over, using my thumb to crush its vocal cords, but not pushing hard enough to end the suffering.

“Shhhh,” I hushed, the mania creeping into my voice as I stroked its fur. “Fuuuck. You’re perfect like this. So desperate. So mine.”

I knew I was repeating Carrington’s words. Knew like an echo in my mind as I said them out loud. They belonged to him. But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t convince myself to care.

My fingers pressed harder, feeling the limpness creep through the small animal. The adrenaline surged through my blood as the fade grew and the light dimmed from the black void of its eyes.

“Hey!”

The voice sliced through the dark, sharp enough to make me loosen my grip, and the damn rabbit that was nearly dead shot out of my hands, a streak of fur vanishing into the trees.

“Fucking hell.”

I turned, my eyes wild, my breathing coming in short, harsh bursts.

A woman, maybe a year younger than me, stood a few feet away. Her jeans were ripped at the knees, and dust and dirt coated her clothing. Her hair was messy from the maze, and a flashlight dangled uselessly in her hand. The sharp, harsh light blinded me as she approached. Her eyes moved from my shaking hands to my face, and she tilted her head.

“You looked like you were about to kill that poor rabbit,” she said, judgment lacing her tone with a hint of fear. “Were you?”

Yes, you buffoon, and now I’m going to try not to fucking kill you.

I didn’t answer. My throat was tight, my eyes burning from that fucking beaming light still in my face.

She took another slow step forward, then another. As if I were a weak fucking animal she wanted to nurture. The flashlight beam cut across her mouth, illuminating the curve of her soft smile.

“You shouldn’t hurt animals. That’s not okay. Are you lost? The maze is back that way, ya know.”

The light wavered on my face, highlighting the mask still placed there.