Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
“What about the one where I loved her first.” He pauses, and I swallow the acid his words leave behind.
His grip in my hair tightens.
“Priest…” I tap at his arm.
His jaw bounces, the pupils in his eyes ballooning pitch-black.
“Priest…” I warn again when the pain in my scalp is almost too much. “What are you doing?” The whispers leave me through shaky lips. “Please.”
His breathing hardens as if each breath he takes is a battle none of us can see. His nostrils flare and his jaw tightens again before he’s leaning down, his body over mine and the tip of his nose touching mine.
“What have you done to me, Madness?”
All the heat he makes me feel spreads south. “Noth—nothing.”
His laughter feels crooked against my mouth. “Wrong.”
He kisses me, flicking his tongue between my lips. My thoughts stop. Everything stops as my hands find their way into the bed of his hair. I tug back on it gently, curling my elbow around the back of his neck to pull him in closer.
In a flash, he’s stripped, that glorious weight I’d prayed for forcing me further into my mattress. He fills me to the brink with a simple thrust, his mouth back on mine as he drives himself into me as my body tightens around him, willing him to never leave.
“Don’t leave me,” I whisper against his mouth.
Hovering above me, he circles his hips against me, and my orgasm explodes into lava, my eyes bleeding through the heat. “Never.”
Last night wasn’t fair. Familiar frames pass. The ones I already know, and the black sunflower that peers back at me. What does it mean? He has many of them in his garden.
“It means you. Luna, the opposite to the sun, silly!” River dances toward me, but instead of stepping to the side, she goes through me like a ghost, evaporating into thin air.
If I closed my eyes hard enough, would he come back to me? I can almost hear his voice in the back of my head as if last night was real. But it wasn’t. Yet again, it was a figment of my imagination, bound by the love I’ve had for him. The love I’ve had since I was a little girl.
Chapter Thirty-Three
priest
The weight of it sits in the palm of my hand, a persistent tale hidden on the other side. One my father disregarded and one I knew I couldn’t.
Wrapped in a porch that withered over time, the blatant neglect was obvious by the cracked paint webbing across the surface. It was once a farmhouse, alive with laughter and hidden beneath an oak tree. I’d seen the photos.
Wind pushes the swing with a creak as if time itself couldn’t remove the ghosts that still wanted to reside here.
With a heavy clunk, the key slides into the slot like a missing puzzle piece. I twist it, pressing the door open and into a narrow hallway decorated with moss and growing ivy.
My foot stops over the threshold when the marking etched into the wood draws my attention. The EKC emblem flies over most people. Most usually assume it means something edgy, but it is more sinister than that. The simplicity of city buildings before the truth of what lies beneath. In dark, heavy strokes, the skull is scratched through the wood in angry lines. It’s not New York, the logo symbolizes everything that we touch. It’s the embodiment of our society. It simply says Long live the EKC because for as long as you can see us for what we appear to be, you’ll be blinded by what’s below the surface.
Perdita.
Riverside.
Our schools.
All of our schools.
Soon, that pretty island Halen got from Pop would be the gateway.
The very blood that runs through every King’s veins.
“Wasn’t sure whether you’d come.” Pop is waiting for me on the other side, his face withered around the edges as he dodges the passages of time. Even when he handed the gavel to Dad, he took it with the knowledge that Pop would always have a place within the Kings. He lives and breathes it in a way that’s disturbingly difficult to tear away. No one wanted to take him away from all that he’s known, especially not Dad, because when Pop is bored, he does crazy shit. Shit like try to kill my mother.
“Stella fell down a fucking hutch, so I need to pull her back out.” Twisting, I shift dust off the logo, my finger grazing the deep hollow lines. My chest feels tight, the tension in my muscles strained enough to snap. “I can’t fucking believe this has been neglected.” Rage. It fills me like acid. “Why didn’t Dad open it?”
Pop shifts through, kicking the door closed behind himself until the heavy metal locks back into place. “Your father had his reasons, I’m sure. What happened with Stella? She get lost?”