by Jus Accardo
Chase swiveled and met his carbon copy with a shit-eating grin. With a nod and an all-too-cocky smile, he said, “Big brother. When did you get back to town?”
Jax lunged forward and knocked him out cold.
Chapter Three
Jax
After Chase hit the floor, I made for another go, but Sam jumped between us. She checked on my brother, then reluctantly agreed to deliver me to Rick’s where I couldn’t do any more damage.
“Still dealing with that impulse control issue, huh?” she said, starting the engine with a flick of her wrist and a yawn—the third one since we’d gotten into her car. There were dark circles under her eyes, and I couldn’t help wondering how she’d been spending her nights.
Or with whom.
Her lips twisted disapprovingly, and I found myself having to recite the alphabet backward to keep from paying too much attention to the little details. The way she tilted her head, sending soft strands of chestnut hair across her shoulder. The soothing tone of her voice. The way she moved. I’d dreamed about these minute details a million times over the last three years.
This girl was the one thing I couldn’t outrun. The only piece of my life I couldn’t seem to shake—and a part of me hated her for it.
“Someone sounds bitter,” I said, keeping both eyes on the dash. Mud. Think of mud. Zombies. Anything to keep from focusing on her. “You were hoping to deck him yourself?”
The engine sputtered and revved and the car jerked from the parking spot, indicating that little had changed when it came to her driving habits. She was hell on wheels. Not a bad driver, but she certainly liked her speed. I didn’t know what asshole thought it’d be a good idea to give her a license, but if I ever found the guy, there’d be a serious fucking beat-down in order.
She stomped the gas, and the car lurched forward. “You’re the one with anger management issues, not me.”
I snorted and bit down hard on my tongue. She was right, in a way. I had anger issues—only they weren’t necessarily all mine. The demon had a nasty temper and just about zero impulse control. To keep the thing in check, I’d forced myself to feed it, committing one truly violent act every two days since I was seventeen. That, coupled with little nibbles of the darker side of human emotion here and there, had been enough.
She tightened her hands around the wheel. “Besides, I think we’re dating…”
Fury churned in my gut like a tornado, and the scene from the diner played on repeat inside my head. My brother’s greedy hands trespassing in places they didn’t belong. It’d been nearly impossible to stop from ripping my twin in half. I’d lost control for a moment, but was determined not to let it slip free again. Not while I was in town. And not around Sam. Logically, I knew I had no right to be pissed about the kiss between her and Chase. I was the one who’d walked away.
Unfortunately, logic wasn’t on my side.
“Dating?” I gave a short laugh. She was full of shit, but it still pissed me off regardless. Chase knew the rules. Sam was off-limits.
The whole thing had been a show. My brother knew I was standing there. The bastard probably saw me walk up outside. He’d kissed her to get a reaction, I was sure of it. Which was ten kinds of dangerous, considering how short my fuse could be. But that was Chase. Always living life on the edge.
Sucking in a breath, I forced a smirk to cover up the anger and said, “Are you serious? Chase is dating you? I find that impossible to believe. For starters, you have no ass.” She had a great ass. “Also, your arms are too long. Kind of apish.” They’d be perfect for wrapping around my waist. “That’s good though. You’re short. I bet it helps with the top shelf.”
She opened her mouth—then closed it, slamming down hard on the car’s brakes. The tires screamed against the pavement as I shot forward, face smashing the dash with a loud crack. I didn’t feel much—one of the only perks of living with the demon—but rubbed the spot for her benefit. The slight, satisfied tilt of her lip made the whole show worthwhile. Shit. I’d bleed myself dry if it would get her to smile like that again.
No. That was against the rules. Rules I’d put in place for a reason.
She was still the same—and that made her dangerous. Every moment I spent with her was a precarious balance of control and self-discipline that couldn’t be trusted. My only defense was to act like a dick and hope she kept her distance. It was the only thing that would keep her safe—and me sane. “Guess that’d be a resounding yes…”
“I guess so,” she snapped, and yawned again.
“So if you guys are together, was that disaster I stumbled into a date?”
“Don’t sound so shocked,” she mumbled. Another lie. If she and Chase were really dating, then I was the damn pope. “Not every guy feels the need to run to the other end of the earth to get away from me.”
Her words were like a donkey punch to the nuts. She had every right to be angry after what I’d done, and if that’s all it was, I could have taken my licks like a man. Sucked it up and moved the hell on. But it was more than that. I could hear the thinly veiled pain behind the snipe, and it killed me. I’d wrecked a lot of lives, a tornado of destruction and pain wherever I went, but none came with as much regret as Sam.
“Still haven’t gotten over that, eh? They make therapists for shit like that, you know.” God, I was a fucking bastard. “And you shouldn’t have left your boyfriend alone. He’s probably picking up your replacement as we speak. Did you get a load of the rack on the waitress at the counter? I bet he’s already down on that.”
Sam held her breath for a second before exhaling through pursed lips. “You’re an asshole.”
There. That had done it. I’d hit a nerve.
Like the purebreds, my demon enabled me to see and sense negative human feelings, making it easy to find the most potent ones to feed on. Each emotion was represented by a different color and had an exclusive flavor. Its favorites—fear and anger—were sweet with an almost fruity aftertaste.
The car flooded with crimson—anger—and the cloying scent rose from her shoulders and began swirling around her head. The faint taste tickled my throat as my muscles started to ache. Physical pain was an indicator that the demon wanted to feed, and the longer it went without getting what it wanted, the more I suffered. I pushed back hard and focused on a dark spot on the dashboard. After a moment, the feeling began to pass.
My life was twisted. The more misery I caused people, the happier the demon was. The happier the demon was, the more I wanted to kick my own ass. I could walk into a room of people and push their buttons and suck down the resulting darkness to calm the thing inside, but for an ounce of true peace, I needed something dark. Something violent. Day in and day out. Same damn thing. It was a vicious cycle—one I’d never wanted Sam to be a part of. I’d left town once to save her from what I was, and was counting down the minutes until I could do it again.
Sam’s posture was stiff as the swirl of red faded. No matter what, I had to maintain as much space between us as possible. It would be easier to deal with her if she stayed annoyed. The minute she flashed those big browns my way, I was fucking toast.
“Yanno… Putting yourself alone with the sexier brother is just plain cruel. It’s like dangling a juicy carrot in front of a starving horse,” I baited.
“Did—did you just refer to yourself as a carrot?”
“I think the better question would be, did I just refer to you as a starving horse…”
Biting her bottom lip, she held her breath as the red waves of anger intensified. I made a fist, digging my nails deep until I felt the skin of my palm break. The subtle stinging gave me something else to focus on besides the increasingly sweet taste in my mouth. I could take a bite, taste the anger without doing her any real harm, but I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop. The only rule I had was no feeding off people I knew. Any kind of emotional connection always fucked things up. There was too much of a possibility of losing control. Letting the demon rise too close to t
he surface was risky.
Sam kept her eyes on the road, and it was obvious she was trying not to engage in confrontation. Unfortunately, the harder she tried, the sexier she looked. It made her lingering anger more intoxicating, and the demon struggled for control. I held my breath, depriving the thing of the scent of her fury.
She cut the wheel to the left, turning onto Beekman Avenue. “So why did you come back?”
“Could ask you the same thing.” I turned away as more of the crimson dissipated. I’d gone to see her—in secret, and from a distance, of course—just last month. She’d had a few problems, but I hadn’t known she left college. “Aren’t you supposed to be at school?”
When she didn’t respond, I forced myself to look at her again. The anger was gone, the waves of red replaced now by a smoky swirl of gray. Fear. “Sammy?”
It was like the arctic had settled across her face. “School didn’t work out. I’ve moved on. End of story.” And that was all she said. After a moment, some of the tension left her body, along with the rush of gray, and she sighed. “And you’re back because…?”
I wanted to know what happened with school, but it was a bad idea. Getting involved in her life—even the smallest bit—would only give her the wrong idea. Plus, it would make leaving again that much harder. You didn’t hand an ex-junkie a needle without expecting a relapse. That’s what this girl was to me. An addiction I’d been trying for years to kick. No. Better to stick with the plan. Keep it casual and cool. Act like a dick. I’d do what I needed to do in town, and then get the hell out. “Would you believe nostalgia?”
Sam’s brows rose. “Nostalgia? For what, kicking the crap out of your brother?”
“Someone’s funnier than I remember,” I said. “Are you going to tell me to stay away from your man?”
“How about I just ask you to crawl back to whatever hole you’ve been hiding in for the last three years?”
The words stung even though I could see the conflicting swirls of color dancing around her head. Anger, hurt, and something else. Something that said underneath it all, she was glad to see me. Hopeful, even. And as much as it ripped away another small piece of my soul, I couldn’t have that. Samantha Merrick needed to hate me. “I won’t be here long. There’s nothing worth staying for.”
The words tasted bitter, but they did the trick. Her colors turned deep crimson again, and she squared her shoulders and shrugged. “Then I guess it really is my lucky day, eh?”
“Seems like it.” I focused on the dark spot on the dash again. Coffee. I could smell it. Another perk of the demon. My nose was better than a border collie’s. All my senses were enhanced. I could hear a whistle from three blocks away. Feel the minute fibers in a single piece of paper. Even see the delicate veins in the wings of a fly.
I turned away and watched the town pass in a blur of green and brown from the passenger-side window. Things hadn’t changed. Most small towns didn’t. I’d always hated that about Harlow. The landscape. The people. All so narrow and static.
Sam took the corner of Mercer Avenue and hung a hard right onto River. The street sloped at a sharp slant and ended in a thin guardrail that ran alongside the river. I’d always hated this road, and being in Sam’s passenger seat only amplified that because of her aversion to the brake pedal. “You might wanna slow down, Sammy.”
“No one likes a side seat driver.” She jabbed a finger at me.
Her nails were gnawed to the quick and unpolished. Another thing that hadn’t changed.
“And no one calls me Sammy anymore. You’d know that if you hadn’t fallen off the edge of the planet.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I snapped, leaning back in the seat. I should have known we wouldn’t get through the ten-minute drive without her bringing that up. It was 100 percent justified, but I couldn’t let her know that. I’d practically kissed her clothes clean off, then disappeared without a word the next day. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
“I wasn’t exactly thrilled about it, either.” She thought I meant the car ride. The truth was, I should have never come back to town. The urge to return had been building slowly, but when I found out that my Uncle Rick, the man who’d raised me, was terminally ill, I couldn’t put it off any longer. I needed to say good-bye.
Sam wasn’t supposed to be here. Neither was Chase, who was scheduled to visit a friend in Jersey. Wrong on both counts. Two strikes. One more and it was game over for someone. I planned to see my uncle, then make a run for the city limits like someone had lit my ass on fire.
“I was serious though,” I said, inclining my head toward the road. The car barreled toward the river and showed no signs of stopping. “Feel free to slow down.”
Her foot pushed the brake as each of her fingers turned white, wrapping tight around the wheel. The car didn’t slow.
“Any time now…” I prodded, gripping the “oh shit” handle above the door. The demon shifted, sensing distress. There was never any privacy. It was like I lived in a house with glass walls. Every thought—every emotion—was on display for perverse entertainment of the monster inside.
The car picked up speed as it slipped past the final hill and closed in on the last few feet before the railing. Thick gray mist filled the car. “I’d love to…” she spat, violently stomping the pedal now. Thunk thunk, thunk. The sound echoed through the small space.
“It’s not working?”
“Of course it’s working. I think I’d rather just drive over the edge!” She smacked the wheel and smashed her foot down once more, throwing all her weight behind it. It didn’t do any good.
Time was up, and we were out of road. “We’re not going to stop. Open your window!” I slammed a hand against the dash to brace myself, then started pushing furiously on the window button with the other. Like the brakes, nothing happened. “Fuck. Why isn’t it working, Sammy?”
“They’re broken,” she yelled in a panic, yanking up on the buckle of her seat belt. “College dropout. Piece of crap car!”
A growl rose in my throat. “Why the hell would you not get that fixed?”
Sam ignored me, fingers fumbling with the belt release button, jabbing randomly until it clicked free. She cursed and reached for the door, but it was too late. The car crashed through the guardrail in an explosion of twisted metal and clamorous sound as it careened off the road.
For a minute we were weightless. Suspended in midair like spiders from a string. Sam had unbuckled her safety belt, and her body lifted from the seat like a rag doll. I threw my arm across, pinning her down to keep her from smashing forward into the windshield.
“Hold on,” I grunted, bracing us both. We jerked forward on impact, the car slamming into the water with a deafening crash.
Sam pulled up on the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. The pressure of the water had us trapped already. “We’re stuck!”
“Stay calm,” I said, withdrawing my arm.
I closed my eyes and fought hard to keep control. The excessive waves of panic rolling off Sam made tucking the monster away that much harder. “The worst thing you can do right now is panic.”
“Don’t panic?” She pounded the dash. I almost pointed out beating up the car wouldn’t do a damn thing either, but now wasn’t the time to play the asshole card. Not with her on the verge of losing it and the demon licking its nonexistent lips at her fear. The taste of it had the thing churning, restless, and hungry. “Are you kidding me? We’re going to die!”
“We’re not going to die.” My voice deepened. Shit. I was losing it. “I can get us out of here.”
The car slipped beneath the surface and the water rushed in through the floor and vents. It was cold and rising fast. “Really? Did you develop gills while you were away?”
“Sammy, calm the fuck—” The ache in my muscles ignited, turning into an all-consuming fire. It stole the air from my lungs. Her fear was too much.
I closed my eyes and counted to ten, fighting like hell against the darkness. If I lost control,
Sam would drown. The demon wouldn’t care about anything except self-preservation. It pushed. I pushed. But it was a losing battle. The black thing convulsed, driven by the heightened emotions, and with a flash of sharp pain and a flare of bright light, I became a spectator hovering on the edge of consciousness in my own body.
The demon wasted no time. Though faster and physically more powerful when in control, it was still subject to most human vulnerabilities while living inside my body. It made me tougher and stronger, but if my body died, the demon died with it.
It made a move to grab the door, but Sam intervened. She grabbed its face—my face—and pressed her lips to mine as the water inside the car closed over our heads.
Danger.
Sammy.
Death.
Sam.
Violence.
Samantha.
Pain. Sammy…
The instant our lips met, the watery inside of the car was gone, replaced by a wooded area surrounded by large rocks. Two teenagers—one angry boy and a damaged, but determined, girl stood in the center.
It was a memory—one I remembered all too well, but it was different somehow. This was from someone else’s perspective. It took a second, but I realized it was the demon’s memory. The thing was remembering Sam and the kiss we shared the night I left. A rush of emotion hit hard. The soft, warm feel of Sam’s small body crushed to mine. The way her hair smelled like raspberries. Lips. Longing. Need. A moment of absolute peace and perfection in a life full of violence and pain.
The memory faded, and Sam pulled away and opened her eyes—then her mouth. The mist bled into the water around us, swirling like colored ink. The dark blue of sadness tainted with regret and mingled with smoky gray fear. The demon was in control, but I felt it all. The sensation was overwhelming. It was pleasure and pain and necessity.
A single bubble escaped Sam’s mouth and her eyes closed. I let out a rage-filled roar—or maybe it’d come from the demon. In that moment, we were so tangled up and twisted, I couldn’t tell where I ended and it began.
