Page 91 of Depraved

“Where do you think?”

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Listen, Onyx is like a fucking bloodhound. We need to lay low for a while.”

“What do you mean?”

“He saw the blood on your boot this morning. And he has that fucking look in his eyes when he’s trying to get to the bottom of something. We need to cool down a little.”

“No fucking way, man. I’m going out again tonight.”

See, I knew Ink wouldn’t play along. The man was consumed with an unhealthy amount of rage. It had been days since he slept. He was living off whiskey, nicotine, and air. But who could blame him? He was a walking hard-on, always trying to get into Neon’s pants because she was the one girl who didn’t fall for his dirty mouth and boyish good looks. Ink had that charisma and confidence women seemed to fall for hook, line, and sinker. I was pretty sure if I had a pussy, I’d probably fall for his dirty mouth. But not Neon, and that drove the guy insane not being able to crack through her hard casing of attitude. And even though he always joked about never stopping until she spread her legs for him, I knew deep down the guy cared for her—more than he ever wanted to admit.

Now, he was all types of fucked up over her.

“Listen, Ink. Let’s just be cool for a few days. Besides, you need to get some sleep.”

“Granite, you’re my bro, man. But I’m going out tonight, with or without you.” And then he hung up.

I cursed under my breath. It was probably better for us—for him to continue doing what we’d been doing. That fury he carried was like a pressure cooker put on high, and he needed to get rid of some steam. At least what we were doing was better than him shooting it up and getting high. When Ink joined the Kings a few years back, the guy was having a hard time getting off the needle. That was one thing our club didn’t tolerate, the use of hardcore drugs. Weed? Sure. Selling weed was great for our cashflow. But heroin? No way. It took us months to help get the guy clean. My dad refused to give up on him.

Goddammit. If Ink had to fall off the wagon because of what happened to Neon—because of what I let happen to Neon—that would be the final nail in my fucking coffin. I already felt like a dead man walking, robbing the world of air I didn’t deserve. The only thing that kept me from falling down that metaphorical black hole of nothing was my need for revenge. I would avenge what happened to Neon. I would demand payback for what happened to Alyx. Her mind was fucked because of what I let happen.

Ruined.

Corrupted.

Broken.

Just like me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

ALYX

There were no more tears left in me to cry. Instead, I just sat there in the corner drawing imaginary circles on the concrete floor with my fingertip. My nails had grown, and they looked terrible. No shape, no pretty round contour. Filing the corners of my nails, keeping them well-manicured was not important. Not anymore. I was no longer that perfect, pretty ballerina girl.

Ballerina girl.

God, I hated those words. I hated that he called me that. I hated that I liked it when he called me that. I hated him.

Around and around, my finger drew circles over the exact same spot. My thoughts were scattered, almost like static, memories zapping through my mind one second at a time. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t think straight. But it was better that way. If my mind was clear, I’d probably only think of her, her face, her pain, the way Granite easily disregarded her life like it meant nothing.

Did my life mean nothing to him? If it was so easy for him to let her go, would he throw me to the vultures just as easily once he grew tired of me? Sure, he made it clear he was never letting me go, and for a single space in time he had me believing that. He had me believing he might have cared for me, that his obsession with me wasn’t just toxic, but a part of it might be genuine. Unfortunately, he proved me wrong not long after I opened my legs for him, welcoming him into my body like he was the one.

God. My mom was right. It wasn’t in me to make the right decisions. That was why I needed someone like her to make the choices for me. I was weak. Too naïve. And if I had to stand on my own two feet, living my own life, I’d fuck up left, right, and center.

There was a slight knock on the door before Onyx entered. I gave a quick glance his way then turned my attention back to the circles I was drawing. “I didn’t eat the food you brought me, if that’s why you’re here.”

I heard the door slam shut, the heavy footsteps of his leather boots. He crouched in front of me. “How long are you going to keep this up?”

I shrugged, not giving him a straight answer.

“I’m going to ask you this one more time, Alyx. Please eat.”

I lifted my head and met his eyes. “Isn’t the whole point of eating to give your body what it needs to function? To stay alive?”

“What’s your point?”

My hair fell across my shoulder as I leaned my head to the side. “I have no reason to have a body that functions right at this point.” I bit my lower lip. “And since your brother made it clear he had no intention of ever letting me go, I don’t see a reason for me to stay alive either.”