I moan and tilt my backside against his face, searching for more of his mouth. The stinging sensations lead to an overwhelming pulsating between my legs.
Hunter harshly tangles a hand in my hair, shoving my face to the floor. “Pain slut.” I can’t respond fast enough when he swiftly sinks into me.
After everything that just transpired, I would have never in a million years thought that Hunter Knight would end this night sadistically fucking me face down on his kitchen floor.
Chapter thirty-seven
Back To Reality
Went for a run.
Figured I didn’t need the cuffs this time.
I’m not through with you so stay in bed.
I’ll make you breakfast when I get back.
Hunter
Groaning, I press my face in the feather-filled pillows with a silly grin on my face, holding Hunter’s note in my hand. I stretch, never feeling so sore and sated in my life…
Wait; being sore and sated and playing house with Hunter is not my objective.
My God.
I lost what my priority is: finding my brother’s murderer.
I’m such a shitty sister.
In a rush I dress and snatch my cell from his stand. I call Falcon and give him the directions to Hunter’s house. I have to goals in mind now:
To separate myself from Hunter.
To find and bring my brother’s killer to justice by any means necessary.
***
Gritting my teeth and gripping my steering wheel, I kill the engine of my car. I’m parked in front of the front office of Cherry Creek High School. Cherry Creek High School is composed of many old brick buildings and white lion statues that declare our lion pride. Zipping my black hoodie up to my neck and stepping out of my toasty car, I glance at the overcast sky above before making my way to the glass front door. The sky is always grey and the temperature is so cold in December. Taking a deep breath, I open the door.
It’s very warm and brightly lit inside and always smells of fruity orange chemical cleaner. Just outside the office is a glass shelves that showcase school trophies, awards, and pictures. In one group picture from Drama class, I notice Tyler smiling massively while surrounded by his fellow classmates that all cling to him. My heart does a strange pitter-patter and I have to suck in a sharp breath. He looks so happy, carefree there.
Gathering my composure, I head into the small office. The room in divided by a long counter where two desks sit behind, but one is vacant and the other has Mrs. Nash, my very old English teacher, snoozing. Using the chained pen on the clipboard, I sign in as a guest. Without being too rude, I clear my throat to wake her.
Her lids quickly flutter open and her eyes search the room until they land on me. She smiles instantly. “Oh, my…How nice it is to see you, Miss Waters. How is college going? I hope your still getting A’s in English. You were just a model student—so kind and obedient unlike the hooligans that infest the school now.”
“Thank you. I’m fine, Mrs. Nash. College is…college. And yes I’m still getting A’s in English. I was wondering if it would be okay to just take a memory stroll around campus?”
“Of course, Isabel. Have you signed in?”
I nod.
“Well, come around so I can give you your tag.” I walk around the counter and she pulls a red and white visitor’s pass from her desk drawer, scribbling my name across in black ink. She attaches the sticker on my chest, smiling at me. “Beware of them today; it’s the last day of school before winter break hits. Come back and see me now,” she says, handing me a few peppermints and patting my hand good-naturedly. I always find myself wondering what the link is with candy peppermints and elderly people.
The office building is connected to the large cafeteria and leads to smaller corridors that are joined with other buildings. The warm aroma of cafeteria food makes me queasy so I pop a mint in my mouth. It always smells of steamed vegetables and apple juice. I’m startled when the bell rings, and I pause as students swarm the aisles.
It’s like high school all over again as soon as I step foot in maroon halls of Cherry High. I can feel the student’s eyes bore into me as I make my way through the passageways. They’re all whispering and laughing as I walk past. The funny thing about torture is that it never changes, even if you do.
A warm hand wraps around my fingers. I peek up to see Lark’s spectacular hazel eyes trained on mine. “Hello, lovely. What are you doing roaming around in the lion’s den?”
“I-I…I’m looking for Hero.”
His brows lift. “Cheating on me already?”
“Never. I just need to talk him. Hunter wouldn’t give me his number, so I decided a face-to-face meeting is due. Do you know where he is?”
He scrunches up his nose in distaste. “Everyone knows where he is. He’s shoving his tongue down his sister’s throat in the stairwell.” Lark begins to pull me in the direction. “I figured she’s adopted and all. I mean, Naya looks nothing like them with the dark skin and dark hair. But still. That’s his little sister. That’s fucking gross.”
Naya adopted?
“You think they have sex…?”
He shudders. “God, I hope not.”
“Is that why you and Hero aren’t friends anymore?”
Lark sucks on his lip ring for a moment. “I guess. Well, I’ve had this thing for Naya since I can remember. Emotionally dark and haunted girls get me off. Don’t judge me. I don’t know why. Anyway. Tyler knew, Hero knew, the entire population of Cherry Creek knew. Naya and I…I don’t know how to explain it, it’s just something there. It’s like an unbreakable link between us and I feel like Hero is an obstacle in our way. Do you know he lets her sleep in his bed every night? How fucking crazy is that?”
He yanks me as I try to keep up with his long strides. “Tyler and I slept in the same bed together.”
“Yeah, but that’s harmless compared to Hero and Naya. They are on some next level shit. I can’t begin to wrap my damn head around it.” He runs a frustrated hand through his thick bangs and sighs. “The weird thing about this whole situation, though, is that I find myself still waiting for her to come around. It’s fucking sick, right?”
We reach the wooden door to the stairwell. I give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Never give up, Lark. Some things are just meant to be.”
He holds the door open and nods. “Yeah, I hope so.” He gestures to the door. “They’re in there. I can wait out here if you want, then walk you to your car or whatever.”
“You don’t need to be in class?”
He gives his curly head a shake. “Nah, I’m on lunch.”
“Okay. It shouldn’t take long.” He holds the door open for me. I step into the dim area and hear Hero and Naya’s voice floating down.
“…this is getting too complicated, Naya. It shouldn’t be like this, and I don’t know why it is.”
“You won’t even try, Hero. Not even for me.”
“For fuck’s sake, you’re my sister. I can’t do this with you anymore. My life is in so much turmoil already. Adding you to the list is just another burden.”
“If I’m such a burden, why won’t you let anyone get near me, especially Lark? You know I like him, yet you tell him to stay away from me. Why won’t you just let me go then?”
“Date him. I don’t care anymore.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Footsteps stomp down the stairs; I press my back against the wall and hold my breath when Naya flings open the door and storms out. Good, she didn’t see me, but Hero does as he makes his way down the steps. His angry eyes lock onto mine. “What the fuck?!”
“I-I need to talk to you about Green Frog.”
His face contorts into fury and bewilderment. “What!”
“I know about Green Frog, Hero. Naya told me. Whoever it is, they got into contact with me through Tyler’s laptop. And another thing: I was shoved off that cliff. I didn’t jump. Someone is trying to kill me…like they kil
led Tyler.”
“What?!” he says in utter disbelief, dragging his hands down his ashen face. “Okay, okay…we need to talk, but not here though. Meet me at Tyler’s grave in four hours. We can go over everything then. Bring the laptop.”
“Alright.”
Hero grips my hand and tugs me with him out the door. We pause as the majority of Cherry High gawks at us. I spot Lark and Naya conversing quietly by the cafeteria entrance. Rex and Taylor gilds by. Something strange happens then. Hero squeezes my hand to the point of pain. Rex eyes him, then me and smirks, wrapping an arm across Taylor’s shoulders. Taylor doesn’t make eye contact with neither of us. She clutches her books to her chest, looking straight ahead as if oblivious to everything.
What happened between them?
I thought Taylor liked Hero.
How can she possibly move on so fast?
“You should go now,” he whispers, releasing my hand.
Nodding, I massage blood flow back into my limb.
When I get to Flacon’s house, Harmony tries on sparkly gowns for the Winter Ball while Victor pairs accessories with each one. Falcon is lounged across the couch with Birthday in his arms, vaguely conscious of us in the center of the living room.
“Are you sure you don’t want to take your pick, Izzy? I’ve made several dresses. Falcon keeps me inside all day. There’s nothing for me to do except create and sew.”
I shrug dismissively. “Umm…I’m probably not going. No one has asked me yet.”
“What about Hunter?” Vic prompts.
“He has a date already.”
“Bastard,” Harmony mutters, smoothing out the dark plum gown that looks amazing against her caramel skin. “I don’t like him.”
“I know, Harm. You’ve told me a million times already.”
“FYI if you two run off and elope, it may take me a while to be your friend again,” Harmony declares, scooping her blond long hair off her shoulders with both hands. “Now should I wear my hair up or down?” she questions the full-length mirror.
“Up,” Vic replies, placing a glittery necklace around her neck.
“We are not eloping and getting married. Calm down. He just understands me. That’s all.”
“Whatever. He still gives me the creeps.”
I fasten the long row of silk buttons down her back. “Who are you going with, anyway?”
She blushes when she admits, “Jake.”
Falcon’s eyes brows lift to his hairline and he smiles hugely. “Jake West?”
“Yeah. Jake West. He asked me, so I’m going.”
“Wow,” I murmur, still buttoning. “Jake’s hot.”
“And dreamy and smart and handsome,” Harmony sighs in a giddy voice I’ve never heard from her before.
“Sounds like someone’s in love. Who knew a reptile could have a warm heart. ” Falcon taunts.
“Fuck off, Falcon,” she growls.
“I wish they would just fuck already and it get it over with. He has an all access pass when it comes to you and her,” Vic adds, grinning with a mischief glint in his eyes. “But I’m the only guy he gets to have.”
“Ha. In her dreams!” Flacon shouts, laughing, rubbing Birthday’s belly.
“Honey, you wish you were in my dreams,” Harmony counters. She turns to face him and provokingly slides her hands along the soft curves of her body. Her voice takes on a huskier tone that sounds like pure sex. “You want my body, don’t you, Falcon?”
His brown eyes narrow and darken but he licks his lips. I don’t think he’s actually aware of it. He doesn’t answer. She laughs, breaking the spell and turns back to the mirror.
“The two of you would be alternating between fucking and fighting,” I say, giggling at my own joke.
“That is so true,” Vic murmurs. “Izzy, you should really look at some of these gowns. You might change your mind.”
I end up picking a high neck flowing white ball gown dripping with lace, tulle, and satin. It even has long sleeves with intricate lace designs.
Chapter thirty-eight
Instructions Make A Difference
It’s dark when I arrive at the cemetery, but I stay in my car though that’s parked at the entrance. I gaze out the windshield at the empty parking lot, realizing that it’s severely spooky out here. Someone could easily be lurking in the shadows of the night, ready to a take and bury me six feet under in an unnamed ditch where no one would ever find me…
I jump and scream when Hero taps on my window. He laughs and holds up a bundle of colorful wildflowers. I unlock the doors and roll my eyes, muttering a curse under my breath.
“Let me put these on his headstone. Lock the doors. I’ll be back in sec.” I lock the doors and he runs off into the darkness. My heart is thundering against my ribs the entire time.
What if something happens to him?
He jogs back to my car. I unlock the doors and he slides into the passenger seat, throwing the hood off his head. Hero brings his hands to his mouth and blows on them as he rubs them together. “It’s fucking cold outside.”
I turn the heat dial up to warm him. “Why did you wait so long to meet me?”
He shrugs, staring straight ahead. “I had practice.”
My eyes widen in shock. “You’re back on the team?”
Hero turns to look at me. “I love football, Isabel. Did you bring the laptop?”
“Yeah.” I reach over and grab it from the backseat. “We haven’t been in contact for some time now.”
“Who do you think pushed you off that cliff?”
“If I knew, I would certainly share,” I say mockingly.
“You know, I find it fascinating that you can still be sarcastic at a time like this. Do you not understand that someone tried to kill you?”
I try to stifle the hilarious laughter the bubble out of me in loud spurts. Hunter gives me a concerned look. “Yes, I understand that someone is trying to or tried to kill me. I understand it because it happened to me!” I suddenly burst into tears and Hero engulfs me in a warm, soothing embrace.
“We need to go to your house. Switch seats with me so I can drive.”
“You’re going to leave your car here?”
“I didn’t drive here, I jogged.”
“That’s a forty five minute walk from your house,” I mumble throughout tears.
He strokes my hair. “I needed that walk,” he murmurs in my hair.
The ride to my house is silent. I get a handle on my tears and gaze out the window. The sky has never been so clear and filled with twinkling stars that shine so brightly above like specks of shimmering glitter in the sky. The earth underneath the tires transform from solid road to crunchy gravel, the dark silhouette of a square begins to appear until we reach the front drive of my house. This house is really beautiful in the daylight. I grew up in a two-story southern farmhouse with classic Palladian windows. My mom said she wanted it because it’s painted a soft eggshell yellow—her favorite color—and it has a wraparound porch that’s surrounded by an abundant of lilac bushes that never fail to bloom. I loved this house because of the gigantic willow tree and the stream that curls entirely around the house; I can hear the calm water washing over stones right from my bedroom window.
I instruct Hero to retrieve the house key from under the empty pot. He inserts the key in the lock and opens the door. We step into the dark space. I flip on the light switch panel on the living room wall. My house is spacious and airy with a comfortable, harmonious mix of traditional and modern furniture that include stylishly large overstuffed couches, floral print chairs, lavish royal blue wallpaper, and dark wooden furniture fixtures and floors.
“I always loved coming to your house. It’s so inviting.” Hero says, his voice echoing through the vast space.
This house does have a welcoming vibe but what lies beneath the surface is much more horrifying. I sit the laptop on the glass coffee table. “Why did you want to come to my house?”
He glances at our family pictures
that’s scattered among the walls and counters. “Do you remember your dad teaching us how to fire a gun?”
“Yeah,” I say warily.
“You and Hunter were the best at targeting those glass jars. Tyler and I sucked. We couldn’t aim for shit.”
My brows snap together, confused. “Okay…”
“Do know where he keeps his gun?”
“Umm…my mom kept it in her closet in an old shoebox on the top shelf.” I vaguely wonder why she never but the thing in a safe.
Did she want to access it quickly in case she needed it?
Hero cocks his head, an inquisitive expression on his face. “Can you show me?”
I gesture to the wooden stairs. He follows me up as each step groans. We turn right and cross the loft area and reach the closed wooden door to my parents’ bedroom. My stomach knots, my heart rate pikes, and my breathing quickens as I reach for the golden knob. I already know what it looks like. The cream lace yellow curtains. The four-poster bed in the center of the room with a million unnecessary pillows and fluffy white comforter. My mother’s beautifully dainty glass knickknacks that are disorderly placed throughout but somehow linked as a map to greatest liked to least. Countless photos of my father. Mom loved to take family pictures, especially pictures of my father.
I remember to breathe when Hero walks inside and turns on a lamp by the door. “Are you okay, Isabel?”
“It’s just surreal to be in here right now. I haven’t been in this room for years.”
He makes his way over to me and rubs his hands repeatedly down the length of my arms as if to warm me. “It’s okay. Your parents loved you. Just think about that when all the sad feelings come back.”
They never left.
“Okay.”
I lead him to the double doors that open to their walk-in closet. My eyes immediately dart to the slim pasty yellow shoebox with a bright red lid labeled by some popular French designer. I gingerly take down the box and hand it over to Hero, who opens it. He peers into the box and smiles.
Pure Illusion (Web Of Deception #1) Page 24
