Page 43 of Hell House
“Lukas?”
I nod filling her in on what transpired earlier and even what I’d seen in the art room.
“Pierced? As in like a Jacob’s Ladder?”
“I don’t know what it’s called!” I cry, feeling immediately embarrassed confessing my darkest fantasies aloud. I can’t help that I’m curious about what it would feel like to have him inside of me, his piercings rubbing up and down as he fucked me.
“You’re too much of a good girl sometimes, Skye! You should be down there in your room right now finding out how great that would feel.”
“No way. I’m here with you. You needed me.”
“You know, I think you might be my first real friend.” She says, her eye shining with sleep.
I get off the bed and grab her by her wrists, hauling her up. She stumbles into me. “Come on, time for bed.” She lets me lead her to her bed. “You’re my first real friend too.” I say as she snuggles down into the blanket. I make sure she’s propped the right way, just in case she had too much alcohol and tie her hair back. As I finish the final swoop through the hair tie, she grabs my wrist.
“Promise you won’t say anything?” My heart breaks that she even feels the need to ask.
“Promise.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Walker
Diablos is hosting a Battle of the Bands night and I’ve yet to find a replacement for my singer. I take out my frustrations by beating the absolute shit out of my punching bag jabbing it with my bare fists. Yeah, it’s fucking stupid seeing as I play guitar with these hands, but nothing else will quell this rage inside of me. Nothing that I want to do anyways. The guilt eats at me enough when someone has been on the receiving end of my Wrath.
Sweat drips off my nose. I swing my arms in a quick one-two jab over and over again until I’m drenched and shaking. I grip the bag for stability, my head resting on the leather exterior. Fuck. What are we going to do? A bunch of local bands from nearby islands and Seattle were coming into town to preform and my band had been practicing all summer. We were ready- that was until Helena up and quit the band after finding out our drummer and her boyfriend, Gary, had cheated on her. And not just a casual kind of cheat, this guy had escorts numbers saved underneath the name Taco Bell in his phone. Who the fuck actually calls Taco Bell? The island didn’t even have one. She was gone before we could even vote fucking Gary out, which is what I would have opted for. Fucking stupid ass Gary. The only thing saving him from being tossed out was the fact that he was the only townie who knew how to play drums.
“Knock, knock.” Salem’s voice calls from the doorway and just like that, my rage is back. Fucking hell, I wasn’t in the mood to be around anyone right now. The guys in the house knew better than to be around me while I was like this, you’d think someone would have warned her. I bet she didn’t even have a clue to who she’d been unlucky enough to have to live with. It’s not every little girl’s dream to grow up and move in with a bunch of frat guys and seven demons.
“What do you want, wildcat?” She looks taken aback by my rough greeting, and I hate that. I clench my jaw and flex my aching hands.
“I was wondering if you had thought about the name of the chord yet?” She chews on the bottom of her lip and goddamn, she couldn’t look more like a sex kitten if she tried. Her hair is down in loose wavy black curls that look like they’re begging to have me run my bloodied-up hands through them. Her big green eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief as she stares me down, not taking any of my bullshit. She steps closer to me, not sensing the danger lurking within me. I’d let myself get carried away with her the other day, but she’d looked so edible I couldn’t help myself. And the way she’d responded to my touch? Shit, I’m half hard just thinking about how good she felt against me. It’d been a long ass time since I’d let anyone get close to me. I was constantly toeing the line, keeping this Wrath inside of me in check. I didn’t want to accidentally have it go haywire on someone that actually meant something to me, and this girl in front of me had the potential to fit that description.
“And what if I told you, I couldn’t remember the name of the chord?”
“I’d call bullshit.” She’s grinning at me and fuck me if it doesn’t do something funny to my insides. I see the red flag but the way she’s looking at me, has me ignoring the shit out of it. My favorite color has always been red anyway, I’m like a bull running straight ahead at it. I walk towards her, aware that I should keep my distance but still, I find my feet taking one step in front of the other- almost like a magnet pulling me in.
“Why are you here, really?” My hands ache and not just from punching the shit out of my punching bag. No, they ache because I want to grab onto her and pull her into me. I want to wrap them in her wild hair and pull her lips up to mine. But instead of doing what I want, I shove my hands into the pockets of my gray sweatpants.
“I needed to get away from all the commotion upstairs.” Interesting. She didn’t like the party preparations.
“Will you be going?”
“I mean… I live here and really don’t have much else going on.”
“What would you say about coming out with me to Diablos?” I don’t realize I’ve said the words until it’s too late. They’re already out there, inviting her to be around me more.
She perks up, “For what?”
“They’re hosting a Battle of the Bands.”
“Get out!” She squeals, and something about it makes me wonder if she’d sound like that in bed.
“My band was supposed to perform, but our singer dropped out last minute.”
“Is THAT why you asked if I could sing the other day?”
“You caught me.”
