Return : Stratham Knights Book 1

by NV Roez

  "Are you having hallucinations now? Maybe we should tell Dr. Lewis you might be a danger to yourself or others," Elijah threatens.

  "Why don't you just obey for once, save us all the headache, and leave this school," Caleb declares.

  His words may be harsh, but the anger doesn't reach his eyes.

  Hmm, I've struck a nerve.

  "Funny, I used to obey you, Caleb. I also used to believe every word that came out of your lying mouth, and look where that got me. And really, all you have to do is say the word and any one of your cronies would do your dirty work for you. Hell, you even got your girlfriend to jump me in the bathroom, key my truck, and push me off the side of a mountain, or did you already forget."

  "I—"

  "Angel, why don't you just leave and go have lunch with Celeste," Micah says, feigning indifference but clearly uncomfortable.

  "What, Micah? Not going to stand up to your 'brothers'. Oh, wait, that's right, they own your balls, too."

  Hate and anger seep out of me as I recall Halloween night when he had his hands on me.

  "Fuck off. You don't get to talk to him like that." Elijah jumps up, his six-foot three body towering in front of me, effectively blocking my view of Micah.

  "You should have never come to Stratham, Evelyn. And sorry to disappoint you, but the truth is, we haven't done anything to your things since you showed up. Believe it or not, we actually have more important things to do than worry about you. So just leave before I do something that will hurt Micah. Lucky for you, I care about him more than I hate you, but don't push me," he whispers.

  I push his solid chest away from me, holding my breath to avoid the onslaught of fresh linen and soap wafting from his skin that reminds me of home.

  "Leave. Me. Alone. I'm tired of your stupid, childish games, Elijah. Grow the fuck up." I turn to the other two Knights and mock bow. "Your highnesses, the same goes for you. Stop playing these stupid games."

  "Or what? Will we end up like Ivy, too?" Elijah says, and my knee decides to move on its own accord, connecting unceremoniously with his balls, bringing his face level with mine.

  "Don't you dare say her name. For the last goddamn time, Elijah. Stop following me, stop sending me shit, and just forget my name."

  I throw Celeste's tray on their table, grab her hand, and walk out of the dining hall, ready to explode.

  My insides are a hurricane of different emotions and I have no idea what to do or where to go, but I know I need to put as much distance between me and the Knights as possible. The next thing I know, we're standing by my truck.

  "I'm heading out. I'm going to go to The Brewery, or the lighthouse, or the damn fort... anywhere. Screw this place today," I tell her.

  "What about your last class?"

  "Don't care. I just need to get out of here." I look at her, and to my surprise, I tell her the truth. "I'm suffocating, Cele."

  "Okay, Evie. Toss me the keys, I'll drive."

  "I need to drive, Cele, but thanks for the offer. You don't have to miss your classes for me. I'll be back later."

  "Not happening, but nice try," she says, climbing into my truck.

  Yep, I love this girl.

  The kaleidoscope of color racing past my truck mirrors my emotions as I drive down the back highway towards the lighthouse.

  "Talk to me, Evie," Celeste says into the silence of my cab.

  "I don't know what to say, Cele. I don't know what to think or what I'm feeling. I hate them, I miss them. I believe them... maybe. I'm disgusted by them. I wish I mattered to them. It's all a jumbled mess," I tell her, unsure of what to make of my ramblings or my sudden need to be honest with her.

  God, what is this?

  She reaches over the center console and holds my hand. And I surprise myself yet again, because I let her.

  "I get it. Can I ask... who's Ivy?"

  Sigh.

  "My twin. They knew her, too. She isn't here anymore."

  "Why do they think you did something to her?" she questions.

  "Wouldn't know." Okay, so that's not completely true. "Things were weird right before my sister died. She would cry a lot and avoid me. We even started having fights, which we never did before that wretched foster care home they put us in. And then one day, Ivy and the guys stopped hanging out with me all together."

  I refocus on the road, replaying the last few weeks when Ivy was still alive. Did someone hurt her too? Did the devils take her like they did me? My heart crushes at the thought of someone ever hurting her, and I can't help but wonder if it was my fault that she's dead.

  We continue our ride in silence, both of us in our own heads, when an SUV speeds up behind me, flashing its lights.

  "Go around, douche, I'm already going fifteen miles over the speed limit," I growl.

  My body jerks forward as the SUV bumps us from behind.

  Celeste grabs her seat belt and looks at the side mirror. "Holy shit, this guy's an asshole."

  This part of the highway doesn't have a shoulder for me to pull over on, so I have nowhere to go. I wave my hand out the window to motion for the SUV to go around me, but he just keeps riding my ass. A few seconds later, the SUV guns its engine, moves into the oncoming traffic lane, and rams the tail end of my truck.

  "Are you trying to kill us, asshole!" I yell through my window while trying to keep my truck from spinning out. I look over to the driver of the SUV. He's wearing a long sleeve, black shirt and a black balaclava. At the same time, he glances my way and those eyes nearly punch me in the gut.

  I've seen those eyes before...

  We need to get turned around and away from whoever this guy is as fast as possible. I shift gears and attempt to make a wide U-turn but miscalculate and he sideswipes us again.

  This time, at our speed, the angle we're in and the impact of the SUV, my truck somersaults off the road. There's a brilliant swirl of colors out my windshield as I see the world turn on itself over and over again, making me dizzy. I can hear the rapidness of my heartbeat in my ears, and panic takes over.

  I don't know how many times the earth cartwheels, but it stops abruptly to the sound of a tree falling on my truck. I can hear the crunch of metal, Celeste's screams, but all I see are a pair of dark brown eyes right before everything goes black.

  23

  "See, Little Flower, no one is coming, no one is going to save you," the Beast spits out from outside the cage he's put me in. He reeks of alcohol and cigarettes.

  I think it's been three days since my sister died, three days since I've been locked in this metal cage that's more like a large wire dog crate.

  There are no windows—or any light—and the only door I can see is the one he comes through. But I've seen this demon they call Beast three times now, and I'm using him to count.

  We're in a basement or dungeon—or something just as grotesque—with other cages, but they're empty. There's a single wooden chair that the Beast is currently occupying.

  Is this what hell looks like? Cages, dirt floors, no air, and the smell of my bodily fluids my only comfort? Can I die now, too?

  I have nothing left.

  The night I found my sister, unconscious on the bathroom floor, is the night the devils brought me into the belly of purgatory, locking me in this cage with only a t-shirt and panties. I tried to scream, but I had done so much of that when I found my sister that my raw throat couldn't push out a sound.

  "Time to rinse the filth off, Little Flower." The Beast grins, flicking his lit cigarette into the cage. "I like 'em dirty, but you stink. Look, I can't even get hard with how bad you smell," he says, grabbing onto his limp dick like it's a toy. "Now, stand up."

  He grabs a water hose that has a nozzle attached to it and sprays ice cold water into my cage. It's hard and so cold. It feels like I'm being stabbed with burning ice splinters. I do my best to cover myself with my arms and t-shirt, but neither does much good.

  "Much better," he says, his dark brown eyes turning even darker, almost black, as they rake
over my wet body. "Now, we can have some fun."

  "One day, I'm going to have the pleasure of watching you die." My voice is soft and low. I pour all my hate, all my pain, into my words.

  "Good luck with that, Little Flower. I've always liked your fight. So, please, fight away." He chuckles, his eyes glowing with desire as he comes to unlock the cage and I prepare my mind to leave my body once again.

  I scream awake, desperately wishing I could scrape away the memories that are playing behind my eyelids. I try to scratch away my tainted skin, but my wrists are restrained.

  What the hell?

  "It's okay, Evelyn. You're okay," a woman soothes, gently patting my hand, and I try to jerk it away.

  Please don't touch me.

  My eyes snap open and they're attacked by fluorescent lights. Once they adjust, I look around to see that I'm in a hospital room, not a cage, and I let out a breath.

  "Do you know where you are, Evelyn?" Dr. Lewis asks.

  "Dr. Lewis?" I move to sit up, but my hands are cuffed to the metal bars of the bed. "Why am I restrained?"

  "Oh honey, I'm listed as your emergency contact." She feigns concern from her seat next to my bed. "From the pictures they showed me, you were in a pretty traumatic car accident."

  "So, why am I being restrained?" I ask again, more forcefully, trying to make sense of my surroundings. I know I'm in a hospital, but seeing Dr. Lewis here has me thinking it's a different kind of hospital.

  "Some students came forward saying that you stormed out of the dining hall really upset and that you might have caused the accident on purpose, so the restraints are just a precaution," she says, studying my face.

  "What? I was mad, sure, but I would never destroy my truck on purpose. What about the other driver? Didn't anyone talk to him?"

  "What other driver, Evelyn? There was only your truck and it was crushed from the tree you ran into. There was no one else there." Confusion and concern plague her face while she just stares at me.

  I close my eyes, trying to block the world out for a second, to try to calm my heartbeat.

  "There was another driver. I'm not lying, I'm not crazy, and I sure as shit wasn't trying to hurt myself. We were run off the road. What about Celeste, is she okay? She'll tell you what happened."

  She gives me a pained expression. "Ms. Monroe hasn't woken up yet. You were both unconscious when the police and paramedics found you."

  My mind whirls with panicked questions and the beeping from my heart monitor starts to quicken. I need to get out of here, but these damn restraints...

  "You've got to calm down, Evelyn. Breathe," she tells me.

  "Calm down? My best friend is unconscious, someone tried to kill us, and I'm being restrained against my will. What part of that is calming?" I snap back.

  "I'm sorry, you're right. This is all very troubling. Why don't you take this time to rest and focus on getting better? We'll worry about everything else when you get out of here," she mollifies and closes her warm brown eyes for a moment. "I'll start the paperwork to get you withdrawn from the school."

  "Wait, what? Why would you withdraw me from school?" My heart monitor spikes even faster as my panic sets in, despite my efforts to appear calm. "I've worked my ass off to get into Stratham. Don't take this away from me. This was..."

  "I know, Evelyn, but I'm worried about your mental stability. I believe you didn't cause the accident, but even so, you nearly died. The additional trauma if your friend doesn't wake up is a heavy burden to carry."

  "Dr. Lewis... Sadie... Celeste isn't dead. It was just an accident," I placate.

  Fucking universe.

  I know damn well that wasn't just an accident, but this woman is trying to take away the only thing I have left.

  "I can get school work done here until they release me. We can meet more often if you want and take it a week at a time. I'll do whatever you want, just don't take this away."

  I hate the whine in my voice, but this is my life. I get kicked out now and my promise to Ivy is broken. No way are they going to let me in again.

  "Okay, Evelyn. I'll reserve my judgement and recommend you stay at school for now," she resigns and goes to leave. "Oh, and, Evelyn, it would be best to stay as far away from the Knights as possible."

  And she's out the door with no other explanation.

  Fucking Knights.

  Gee, I wonder who those students were who came forward.

  "A hairline fracture on your wrist, one cracked rib, and a few bumps and bruises. All in all, you are a very lucky young lady, Ms. Hawton. It could've been much worse. We are going to keep you here for a few more days, but I'm confident that you'll have a full recovery and be back to normal in no time," the doctor tells me while the day nurse comes in with yet another tasteless meal.

  I may not die from my injuries, but I'll die from starvation at this rate.

  "Thanks, Doc. What about Celeste? The girl who came in here with me. Is she okay?"

  "I'm not at liberty to say, Ms. Hawton, I'm sorry. I can say that she hasn't regained consciousness just yet, but that's about all," he continues. "Just worry about getting better and getting out of here, okay? I'll check in with you again before I leave this evening and see about getting your restraints removed."

  These assholes still have my wrists restrained. This is ridiculous, but I have no choice but to play this out.

  I thank the doctor and let the nurse know that she can come back later for my 'feeding'. I'm a grown ass woman with perfectly good hands, but apparently, I can't be trusted to eat by my damn self with a plastic spork.

  I need them out so I can work on my temper and figure out my next steps.

  I close my eyes and start my breathing exercises, silently praying to whatever deity will listen for Celeste to wake up and be okay.

  Please, I can't lose her too.

  When I feel like I've got my mind and body in check, I open my eyes and scream bloody murder.

  "Holy fuck! You scared the shit out of me. I didn't hear you come in," I shout at Dr. Weaver, pulling against my restraints as I jerk away.

  "I apologize for scaring you, Ms. Hawton. It wasn't my intention. You looked so peaceful, I assumed you were sleeping. I thought to come by and drop off your schoolwork."

  There's a slow blush creeping across his bearded cheeks, like he just got caught stealing from the cookie jar. He moves to sit in the chair that Dr. Lewis was in yesterday, taking off his spectacles to clean them with his handkerchief.

  "I'm glad you're up, though. I was hoping that you and I could have a little chat."

  I eye him with guarded eyes. What does the president of Stratham University have to chat with me about?

  "It's been rumored that you crashed your truck on purpose, though Dr. Lewis assures me that the rumor isn't true. But tell me, Evelyn, if you didn't do it on purpose, why the change of heart and desire to increase your sessions with Dr. Lewis?"

  There's a smile behind his eyes, but I can't figure out why it's there.

  "I did not crash my truck on purpose. There was an SUV that ran me off the road. And as for my agreement for additional sessions with Dr. Lewis, those would be because I nearly died yesterday and I'd like to discuss that experience with someone." The last part seems feasible enough to be the truth, so fuck it. I'm not about to tell him that she threatened to withdraw me.

  "Ms. Hawton, are you sure you saw someone else? What exactly did you see?" he scrutinizes.

  "I saw a man with a large frame—from what I could tell, anyway—wearing a black balaclava in a black SUV," I tell him as I recall the image of the man in my mind's eye.

  A shiver runs down my back as I recall his brown eyes staring back at me before he ran his SUV into my truck. I know this man—or at least, his eyes—but how do I explain that they were the eyes of a demon from my nightmares?

  What I do know is that this wasn't an accident. That man purposefully tried to kill me, but who the hell was he?

  "I don't want to say that I don't be
lieve you, Evelyn, but—"

  "Then don't. I know what I saw. Do you really think... You know what? Nevermind."

  There's no point in trying to defend what I saw or what happened. Clearly, the Knights have planted enough seeds of doubt that it doesn't matter what I have to say.

  "If there's nothing else, can you just leave my schoolwork on the chair? I do need my rest," I say in a steady breath, but my heart monitor betrays me, yet again, with its increasing tempo.

  Dr. Weaver nods, pretending to not hear the rapid beeps. "I believe that you believe you saw someone. That's enough for now, my dear, no need to get upset. I just had to ask."

  He places his large, calloused hand on mine and leaves it there. I can't move my fucking hand because of these damn restraints.

  He slowly starts to smile, caressing my hand, and there's a spark in his eyes. "I'll come back later in the week to pick up your work. You should get some rest."

  He's still caressing my hand, and the machine picks up speed.

  "Thank you, Dr. Weaver. Can you please leave so that I can sleep?" I want to scream at him, but I'm in no position to fight or argue with anyone, especially the president of Stratham University.

  "Of course," he says, his voice dropping low. "Or I could always stay, Isabel."

  His voice is barely above whisper, and with the machines, I'm not sure what he just said, but I swear he just called me Isabel.

  "What did you just say, Dr. Weaver? I didn't quite catch that."

  "Oh, nothing," he says much louder, patting my hand. "I'll see you later this week."

  He did just call me Isabel, didn't he?

  Fucking hell. Maybe I really am losing it.

  24

  It's been three days since the accident—which is apparently what everyone is calling it, even though I know damn well there was nothing accidental about it.

  Whatever. I just want to get out of here.