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As soon as I’m able, I turn back to the fray and use my fists to protect Kayla as best I can. The six of us fight so that she doesn’t have to, pushing Seytan’s goons back until one’s in the water and the other’s against the wall and Seytan is forced to call them off.
“Okay! Okay! I get it. You’re all protective of her. Enough,” she snaps. “This stops now. You’ve made your point. You’re a team now.”
She’s right. I don’t know exactly when it happened, but wearea team.
Seytan turns on us. “But if you ever try to do anything like that again…I promise I’ll make you regret it. Do you understand?”
Kayla comes over and leans into me, wrapping her arms around my shoulder. I wrap mine around her waist as I gaze into her bright green eyes, and I know that we’re in this together. We’re a team. We don’t belong to anyone because we’re a family. And we’re going to get out of this place one way or another. We’re going to get off this island. And we’re going to get the hell away from Seytan and the asylum once and for all.
Seytan leaves and Kayla still remains as she is, cuddled up to me.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you all.”
SNUGGIES
‘FU IN MY HEAD’ – CLOUDY JANE
KAYLA
I’m fucking lonely. It wasn’t an understatement when Satan called it Hell Week. After the events in the pool, she put us through our paces and then some. I can’t help feeling like I was given a harder time than the others, but I have to give them credit, not one of them raised a finger against me. She definitely went harder on us after our show of solidarity beside the pool. Almost like she was testing our bond as much as she was testing our physical and mental limits.
Seytan eventually lost her goddamn mind with us, calling in her goons to torture me instead, and they didn’t go easy on me like I think the guys would have done.
Whilst I admire them for taking a stance on my behalf, I don’t understand why they’re all keeping their distance. The only time I saw them during Hell Week was for group torture sessions, but that all ended several days ago. I get that we’re all wiped out from it. I’m taking meals alone in my room, but still. Could none of them stick their face around the door and say hi? I’ve not seen or spoken to any of them. They’ve not responded to my texts. And I’ve not even woken up sore from my mystery nighttime visitor – it took me long enough to realise that they weren’t just dirty dreams I was having – and now I miss his presence too.
Their rejection hurts.
And I hate that I feel this way.
I could be glib and claim it’s just my cunt that’s aching and lonely, but there’s something sore in my chest too. I don’t know when it happened, but they got under my skin and made mefeel.
I toss and turn in my bed, alone with my thoughts. I can’t help but wonder why they’re all avoiding me. Did they blame me for Seytan’s outburst? Did the disaster in the swimming pool result in them all having a tougher week too? Am I the weakest link in the group? I can’t help but feel like an outsider, like I don’t belong. But then again, I’ve always felt that way, even before Hell Week.
I close my eyes and try to push the thoughts away, but they persist. I’ve always been on my own, even when surrounded by others. My parents…are best not thought about, but my peers at school never seemed to understand me. It’s not like I’m a bad person – being a serial killer aside – I just don’t fit in anywhere.
As I lie there, feeling sorry for myself, there’s a soft touch on my back. I bolt upright, startled, and turn to see who’s there. To my surprise, it’s Nightshade. He looks at me with concern in his eyes and without thinking I throw my arms around his neck and bury my head into his chest.
He wraps his arms around me, holding me close. The warmth of his body seeps into mine, and for the first time in a long while, I feel safe. I don’t know how long we stay like that, but eventually, he pulls away and looks at me.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “We were trying to give you space to process and heal.”
I shake my head, not trusting my voice. I don’t know how to put into words the way I feel, the way their rejection has affected me this week, yet somehow Night seems to know.
“It’s not your fault,” I manage to say. “I’ve always been alone.”
Nightshade looks at me, and I can see the fierce determination in his eyes. “Not anymore,” he says firmly. “You have us. We’re a found family now and you’re at the centre of it. The heart.”
With those heartfelt words, something inside me shifts. For the first time in my life, I feel like I belong somewhere. Like I have a family.
Nightshade leans in, his breath hot on my neck, sending shivers down my spine. His lips graze my earlobe, and I gasp, my body responding to his touch. He pulls back, looking at me, his eyes searching mine for any sign of hesitation. But I’m not hesitant. I want this. I want him.
Without a word, he leans in again and captures my lips with his. It’s soft at first, tentative, but then it grows more urgent, more passionate. His hands roam my body, exploring every inch of me. And as he touches me, the soreness in my chest starts to dissipate, replaced by a warmth I’ve never felt before.
We stay like that for a while, lost in each other, before Nightshade pulls away, a small smile on his lips. “Better?” he asks, and I nod, a sense of contentment washing over me.
I’m not even disappointed that we’re not fucking.
“Much, thank you,” I tell him softly.
