Page 110 of Devour

I look down at the IV in my hand. My hot pink nails look bright against the white tape and the hospital gown. I got those done yesterday. I was happy yesterday.

And then everything comes rushing back.

I enter our suite, and Justin is sitting on our bed.

There’s a bottle of whiskey on the nightstand next to him and a glass in his hand. His eyes are red and swollen, and there are tear streaks on his face. I don’t know what the fuck is going on.

My hand goes to the hoodie pouch where the knife is. I don’t pull it out yet—I might only have one shot at this, and as much as I want him dead, killing him hurts someone I love.

“How the fuck did you get in here?” My voice is steady, but my pulse is hammering in my ears.

“Borrowed a few of your king’s toys from the Sinclairs.” He takes a drink from the glass and sets it on the nightstand. His hand is shaking. “He thinks he’s so fucking untouchable. And don’t think he can see you now, because he can’t.”

He laughs and drops his head into his hands. This isn’t the Justin from three days ago. This is an even fucking crazier version. “If that fucking cocksucker would have just died at the annual ritual like planned, maybe none of this would have ever happened.”

He’s spouting craziness. But the more I can keep him talking, the more I can figure out how to defuse whatever this is since I can’t fucking kill him. “What are you talking about Justin?”

“I gave the men he fought weapons they weren’t supposed to have and shots of adrenaline. I told them to make sure he fucking dies. Wasn’t the first time I tried to have him killed either. Once I saw how badly he wanted you, I tried to have him killed on jobs a couple of times, but he survived those too with just minor injuries. The prick just won’t die.”

“You tried to have Axl killed.” I say it back to him, making sure I heard it right. “All because of me?”

“I loved you first, Saylor.” He looks up at me, and his eyes are wet and wild. “Before he ever fucking looked at you, you were mine. And then he shows up, and suddenly you’re his little fucking heathen, and you’re letting him brand you and pierce you, and I have to fucking stand by and watch. Every fucking day I had to watch you fall in love with that asshole.”

My hand tightens around the knife in my hoodie. I need him to keep talking. I need to figure out what he’s here to do. And if Axl walks in, he’s going to make the decision to kill Justin before I can give my father time to handle him.

“What are you doing here, Justin?” I keep my voice calm, wondering if I can get a text to my dad. “What do you want?”

He stands up from the bed, and he’s unsteady on his feet. He wipes his face with the back of his hand and picks up his phone from the nightstand. “You went to see Dad.” He points the phone at me. “I told you not to fucking tell anyone, Sayl.”

“I didn’t tell him anything.” The lie comes out fast. “He wanted me to see him because Axl hit him. I was doing damage control, Justin. For both of us.” That last part makes my stomach go sour. I don’t ever want to think of me and my brother as “us” ever again.

He stares at me for a long time. His eyes are glassy from the whiskey, and I can see his brain working.

“You always were a bad liar.” He swallows the rest of the whiskey in his glass. “And now I have to deal with it.”

My stomach drops. “Dad is going to help us, Justin.”

He laughs. “You think that’s what Dad has planned? God you really didn’t pay attention, Saylor. You know nothing about our father.”

“What are you talking about?” My father wouldn’t do that to me. He was devastated when he learned about Justin. I know he didn’t fake that.

“This is bigger than crying to Daddy, Sayl.”

Tears sting my eyes. My brother obviously knows what I told our dad, which means my father was never going to help me. “Justin, what the fuck are you going to do?”

“Give me your phone.”

I look at it in my hand. “No.”

He crosses the room faster than I expect from someone that drunk. His hand clamps around my wrist, and he pries the phone out of my fingers before I can shove it in my pocket.

“Let go of me.” I try to pull free, but his grip is so tight that I can’t twist free. He’s watching me, so I don’t go for the knife. Not yet. I’m going to have to catch him by surprise.

He steps back with my phone in his hand. “You’re going to record a video on your phone. You’re going to say that the nightmares got too bad. That you couldn’t handle it anymore, and that you’re sorry. Then you’re going to disappear, Saylor.”

“Fuck you.” I’ll never record his fucking video. “I’m not doing a goddamn thing you tell me to do, Justin.”

“Then Kynlee is dead.” He says it without hesitation. “She’s next door right now. How timely that she came back today. I’ll text her to come over here and snap her neck right in front of you. And then I’ll kill that stupid fucking cat too.”