AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Caius tilts his head, studying me with that same detached curiosity. “Cruel?” he echoes as if the word is foreign. “I’m just telling you the truth. You can cry all you want, but it won’t change anything. They’re gone, Tatum. And now, it’s just you and me.”
The way he says those last words sends a shiver down my spine. There’s something in his tone, something dark and twisted, that makes my skin crawl. It’s as if he were claiming me, marking me as his own in the wake of our parents’ death.
I recoil, my back hitting the edge of the coffee table. My heart is pounding in my chest, fear mixing with the overwhelming amount of grief. I don’t recognize the man standing before me. This isn’t the Caius I know, the one who has tormented me for years but has always been a distant figure, someone I could avoid if I tried hard enough. This Caius is different. He’s darker and more dangerous.
“What do you want from me?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Caius’s lips curl into a slow, predatory smile. “What I’ve always wanted,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “You.”
My breath catches in my throat, my eyes widening in shock. “Me?” I repeat, my voice shaking. “What do you mean?”
Caius reaches out, his tattooed hand brushing against my cheek. His touch is cold and unsettling. “You’ve always been mine, Tatum,” he murmurs, his eyes darkening. “You just didn’t know it yet.”
His words send a wave of nausea through me, my stomach twisting in knots. I try to pull away, but his hand tightens on my cheek, holding me in place. His grip is firm, almost painful, but I’m too scared to resist. I’ve always known there was something off about Caius, something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. He’s always been cruel to me. Since the moment our parents introduced us, it’s only gotten worse.
Any chance he could get to fuck with me when our parents weren’t looking, he took. Sure, I could’ve told them, but what would that have gotten me or him? He might’ve spent our entire childhood bullying me, but even I don’t want to see him locked away somewhere. So, I learned to avoid him. To limit my interactions with him so that he doesn’t have the opportunity to do anything.
“Please, Caius,” I whisper as tears stream down my face. “Don’t do this. Not now.”
Caius’s smile widens, his teeth flashing in the dim light. “Oh, Tatum,” he says softly, his voice laced with dark amusement. “This is just the beginning.”
He releases me abruptly, shoving me down onto the plush rug as he stands up and looks down at me with a mixture of satisfaction and anticipation. I stare up at him, my heart pounding nervously and my mind racing. For the first time, I don’t know what to do or how to react. The grief, the fear, the shock—it’s all too much. It’s overwhelming my senses to the point where I feel like I’m drowning.
“I’m going to bed,” Caius says casually as if nothing has happened. As if we haven't just had our world shattered. “You should, too. Tomorrow’s going to be a long fucking day.”
With that, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving me alone in the silence. I watch him go, my body trembling and my mind struggling to process what has just happened. Suddenly the room feels colder, darker, as if the warmth and light have been sucked out of it, leaving only shadows and fear.
I curl up on the carpet, hugging my knees to my chest as my tears soak my black leggings as they cascade down my cheeks.
Now, lying here, I’d give anything to return to the moments plastered along the living room walls, even if I know them to be fake. Those fake memories are better than the reality I currently find myself forced to live.
2
Lil Peep - Star Shopping
A few days later…
This bar is a fucking dump.
Cheap liquor, sticky floors, and the kind of patrons who look like they’ve been thrown out of every decent place in town. I fit right in. The stench of stale beer and sweat clings to the air, a thick, suffocating stench that barely masks the underlying scent of desperation. The lights are dim, casting long shadows that slither across the cracked linoleum floor like something out of a nightmare. It’s fucking perfect.
I down another shot of whiskey, the burn tracing a familiar path down my throat, settling like fire in the pit of my stomach. It’s my third—no, fourth?—I’ve lost count. Not that it fucking matters. The booze is doing its job, dulling the world's edges, numbing the noise in my head. The noise has only grown louder since the news came in.
They’re dead.
The words echo in my mind over and over, but they don’t mean shit to me. My father and his perfect wife—gone, just like that. A twisted wreck on the side of some godforsaken road, nothing but crumpled metal and shattered glass. I should feel something, right? Anger, sadness, grief—anything. But, staying true to my diagnosis, all I feel is...relief.
Psychopath. Psychopathy is a personality disorder characterized by a lack of empathy, remorse, and conscience. At least that's what the doctors told my parents, and honestly, for once, I think they hit the nail right on the fucking head.
But regardless, they’re out of the way now. And that means she is finally mine.
I motion to the bartender for another shot, not caring that my vision is starting to blur at the edges. The world is better this way, soft and out of focus. The bartender—a tired-looking woman with too much makeup and not enough hope—slides the glass toward me without a word. She’s seen my type before and knows better than to ask questions. I like that about her.
The whiskey burns just as hot as before, and I let out a slow breath as the alcohol works its way through my system, loosening the tight coil of tension that’s been wound inside me for days. Since I found out they were gone since I saw Tatum fall apart like a fucking child. I can still see her in that living room, broken and small, surrounded by memories she’ll never be able to escape. She looked so lost, so fragile.
So fucking beautiful.
I’ve always wanted her. Since the day I moved into that goddamn house and saw her for the first time. She was this perfect little thing, with hair as black as a raven’s feathers, all sweet smiles, and innocent eyes. But I knew better. I saw through the bullshit act. There’s darkness in her, a twisted, fucked-up darkness that mirrors my own, and it’s been haunting me ever since. I want to drag it out of her, make her see that she may have everyone else fooled but not me.
