God of Pain (Legacy of Gods #2)(20)

“And you pushed back.”

“What?” When he remains silent, I insist, “I did no such thing. I put distance between us as you so eloquently instructed. I don’t even text you anymore. This isn’t how it’s supposed to work.”

“This?”

“Scaring me away, then talking to me and volunteering at the shelter I go to. Is this like a game of push and pull or something?”

“Were you scared away?”

“Wasn’t I supposed to be?”

“You were, but I’m surprised it took that little to scare you.”

“Yeah, well, pain frightens me.”

His eyes shine with something similar to…excitement.

And that right there scares the bejesus out of me. It’s not normal excitement like the type I get whenever I go shopping or when I practice ballet. It’s nothing that innocent or harmless.

That look in his eyes is downright demented.

Is he supposed to be thrilled at the prospect of frightening someone?

“Don’t ask Bran or anyone else to be your fake boyfriend,” he repeats, with an edge this time.

“And if I refuse to follow your demands, which are super illogical, by the way?”

He steps closer until his chest nearly brushes against mine and grabs my jaw with his thumb and forefinger, imprisoning me in place. “Then you’ll be acquainted with the pain you’re so scared of.”





7





CREIGHTON





Over the past week, I’ve been on the edge of something dark and absolutely nefarious.

The urge I’ve controlled so well ever since I hit puberty has been seeping into my nightmares, my meal time, and my fighting time.

All my time.

It has heightened, magnified, and reached altitudes that even I am unable to shove into the hollowness of my soul.

And the reason is none other than the girl sitting across from me.

The guardian of her hell, Jeremy, allowed her to spend the night in REU’s dorm. We’re in the apartment she shares with my cousin, the silver angel, and the girl my brother is obsessed with.

Usually, Remi drags me to these nights with a lot of begging and a bribe in the form of fish and chips. Tonight, however, no begging happened.

The fish and chips are nonnegotiable, though.

I take a bite and slap Lan’s hand when he tries to snag a piece.

“Stingy bitch,” he mutters under his breath.

“And what are you doing here?” Bran asks him from the other side of me after they deliberately put me between them.

“Can’t I hang out with my brother and sister and friends?”

“Friends?” Bran tuts, seeming disgusted. “Since when do you have those?”

“I have a friend.” He nudges my shoulder, but I ignore him, so he stares at the opposite side where Cecily and Ava are bickering with Remi while Glyn tries to mediate. “Isn’t that right, Ces?”

She stops in the middle of cursing Remi, drags her fingers through her grandma-like hair, and smiles. “Sure.”

Hopelessly pathetic.

I’ve gone out of my way to warn her about Landon ever since we were in secondary school. But the chances of her actually listening are slim to zero.

Due to the fact that I only speak when it’s absolutely necessary and after I allow my brain to mull over my words, I notice things. Patterns, lingering gazes, and unresolved obsessions.

It’s how I knew Glyn was into Killian long before he staked a public claim on her. Hell, long before she admitted it to herself.

Despite her reserved nature, Cecily actually yearns for Ava’s openness and what Glyn has with the Heathens’ psychopath.

She just went the wrong way about it. She still is.

In spite of my warnings.

Cecily is one of the purest souls to ever exist with enough heart to fit the globe. When we were young, she defended me every time someone made fun of me. Not that I cared, but I won’t forget how she told me ‘I’ll protect you, Creigh. That’s what friends are for.’

I tried to protect her, too, from the monster on my right, to no avail.

This is why I make it my mission not to get involved in anything that doesn’t concern me. People call it heartless; I call it preserving my time.

“See.” Landon grins at his brother. “I have a friend, so I’m staying for Cecily’s beautiful eyes.”

She blushes. I fix her with my signature blank look and she lowers her head.

“If you’re not leaving, I will,” the nicer of the twins says.

“Bran, don’t.” Glyn leaves her plate and goes to her brother’s side, then strokes his arm. “Come on, it’s so rare for us to get together.”

“You heard our little princess.” Landon pats his sister’s head.

She makes a face at him and he grins back.

Bran is half convinced but keeps throwing daggers at a terribly amused Lan.

The more they show disgust or any sort of hostility, the more he enjoys tormenting the hell out of them. Just because he can.

Chaos ensues, more talking, more dramatics, more fucking noise.

My gaze fixates on the reason behind my sour mood and the darkness that’s been slowly but surely occupying my every waking and sleeping moment.