Page 218 of Satan's Spawn

A screw must have fallen off completely in my head because I don’t even celebrate this shit holiday with my Dad.

In fact, I hate it.

Fat men in red suits asking kids to sit on their lap to get presents? Yeah, that’s not suspicious as fuck.

“Oh, and don’t tell them I’ve been spending some nights in your dorm room. Obviously.”

I roll my eyes and humor the jitters that have her rambling on like a parrot on crack. “Obviously.”

“This is gonna be good.” Rebecca lets out a hmph, trying to reassure herself. “As long as you behave.”

What the fuck does she think I’m going to do? Convert her parents to the black arts?

I offer Rebecca a nod, reaching inside my pocket to get a cigarette and lighting it.

She waves the smoke from her face, then hugs her arms to rid the cold.

“Shit, it’s freezing.” She shivers. “Would be nice not to have to walk everywhere in this.”

I inhale a deep pull. “What the hell do you expect? You live in Manhattan.”

“I guess. Wouldn’t hurt to drive some places though. Speaking of…when do I get to meet the infamousRaven? Your Dad gave that car back to you like two weeks ago.”

Yeah, thanks to good boy Archer who doesn’t know how to eat a single punch. Fucker cost me another two months without her. Apparently Dad felt my tiny display of violence was disgraceful enough to hold my car hostage even longer.

That, plus the insane winter we’ve been having, I’ve barely gotten the chance to make my baby purr. It was a fucking tease when I found her sitting outside the dorms, only to have to bring her back to my father’s garage to brace the snow.

Staring down at the ground, I say, “Raven’s too precious to drive in this weather, I told you.”

Did I tell Rebecca I’m also delaying in fear she’ll recognize it from the day I crashed? Or realize why I did? Fuck no. Shit’s embarrassing enough knowing it happened because I was being a little bitch with mommy issues.

She lifts her chin. “Sounds like I’ve got some competition.”

I huff. “Yeah, you fucking do.”

Raven is the only thing, besides my knife, that has ever brought me a sense of identity. Those two objects are as embedded in me as my fingerprints. It was like a limb was missing when my dad took her hostage.

Rebecca’s mouth falls open in aghast. “Seriously? You know you can lie, right?”

Rebecca’s the only girl on the fucking planet who prefers to be lied to over the truth.

“I told you…a new leaf and all that.”

She hits me with a “whatever” look, and goes back to obsessing over Christmas dinner with the Partridge Family.

I go on tuning her out, and after a final drag of my Newport, I’m flicking the bud into the street.

The urge to reach for my knife creeps up on me when I feel a presence watching us from a distance—a recurring instinct I’ve been keeping to myself for the past few nights.

I look behind us, and shocker, there’s Mr. Clean in a leather jacket doing a terrible job of tailing from across the street.

I don’t know what’s garnered so much hostility from Alexis’ father, especially since his daughter isstilltrying to get me to fuck her when Rebecca isn’t around. Another fact I’ve decided to keep to myself since we went official.

I’ve turned her down every time, as politely as my hate for her will allow, especially three weeks ago when she found her way into my dorm room to sprawl naked on my bed, begging me to take her back.

As if I wanted her in the first place.

I called Saint to have the fucker feed Alexis his cock to shut her up, but, like the selfish dick he is, he chose against it so he can spend time with his sister who returned home from abroad.