Branded (Fall of Angels #1)(27)

I purse my lips and then take another drag of the cig he gave me. It’s a small comfort in a precarious situation. Besides, it’s a tiny fire in the palm of my hands. I could set this whole room ablaze, forcing him outside and thus setting myself free.

The question is … is it the smart thing to do?

There’s a whole host of Josiah’s men out there looking for us. Josiah probably can’t wait to get his dirty hands on me and torture the living shit out of my body, which is why it’s in my best interest to stay as close as I possibly can to the only thing that’ll keep me out of danger.

Brandon Locklear.

As much as I hate to think about it, he’s my only option right now.

My only choice if I wanna make it out alive.

Is it worth it, though?

Being cooped up in here with him?

My worst enemy?

I blow out some smoke and tap on the cig, releasing the ash on the already stained red carpet.

Fuck Brandon and the white horse he thinks he rode in on.

I don’t need him to rescue me from anyone. I could do that on my own … if I had his gun.

There’s only one way to pry it out of his hands, and that method involves both of us doing the thing we hate so much. Getting close. So close … I can feel the burn igniting my skin. Just like old times.

But I can’t ever forget the darkness in his soul.

He’s a monster who enjoys the pain and suffering of others.

I can see it in his eyes; the murderous intent. The same thing I saw that night of the bonfire. The same darkness eating away at him.

A darkness I still can’t fully comprehend.



*

Past

October 30th



The fire crackles loudly as two boys from school throw more wood onto the pile. The pillar of smoke reaches into the sky, the flames lighting the whole area. It’s magnificent and frightening at the same time. We’re lucky the stones surrounding the area contain it. No one’s allowed to pass them. At least, that’s the unwritten rule we have.

There are no teachers here to monitor us. This is the only student organized event where they aren’t allowed, and I love it. We can swear all we want, drink and eat whatever we want, stay up as late as we want to … or as long as our parents allow us to. Some prefer to lie to their parents, but I don’t hang out with them.

As I snuggle up closer to Brandon, I try not to pay attention to them. This bonfire wouldn’t be the same without him. It’s much cozier, much nicer than it ever was when I was still with Derek.

I can’t believe I ever dated that idiot. Ever since we broke up, he’s been harassing girls left and right, trying to score. But none of the other girls want anything to do with him after that mess of a show in the hallway the other day.

Luckily, he hasn’t shown his face here yet. The bonfire would be a lot less fun if he did, so I’m praying to God he stays home or wherever the fuck he is. Probably hanging out with my brothers at some bar, drinking booze.

That’s what they always do.

I don’t even care anymore. I used to help them get off the hook with Dad whenever they came home drunk but not anymore. I hope Dad gives them a piece of his mind.

If he saw me here with Brandon, I guess I’m not off the hook either.

It’s no secret he and Mr. Locklear don’t get along, which is funny, considering he does business with one of them. But whatever. I don’t involve myself with my dad’s shit, and he leaves me alone too. Just the way I like it.

Right here in Brandon’s arms is where I like to be.

“It’s so warm, even this far away,” I say, holding up my hands toward the fire.

“Mmhmm,” Brandon mumbles. “You won’t get cold tonight.”

“Not with you here, steaming me up,” I muse, glancing up toward him.

He smirks, but it can’t hide the redness on his face. “I can go grab a drink for you to cool off, if you want.”

Oh, wow. What a reply. “Smooth …” I say.

“Or I could cool you down … with kisses,” he says, and he wriggles his eyebrows and immediately dives in to pepper me with them.

I shove him away playfully. “All right, Casanova. I get it. Go fetch me that drink, and then we’ll see.”

He laughs and gets up from behind me, leaving me as he goes to the keg nearby. Suddenly, I notice Derek’s there too, stuffing his face with potato chips and beer. He stops as his eyes settle on Brandon. Fuck.

I immediately get up, but it’s already too late. By the time I get there, both are yelling and pushing each other.

“Motherfucker! What are you doing here hanging out with my girl?” Derek barks.

“If you hadn’t noticed, she ain’t your girl anymore,” Brandon retorts.

Derek looks like he’s shooting thunderbolts from his eyes. “Because your little Indian ass had to throw yourself at her!”

He throws his plastic cup full of beer in Brandon’s face.

Brandon stays put, silent for a few seconds, while he wipes the beer off his face.

“Don’t … call me that,” Brandon hisses.

Everyone’s staring at them. Even me. I don’t know what to do or how to resolve this mess I created.

“What? Indian?” Derek shoves him hard. “Redskin? Fucking unwanted piece of shit that your ma left behind? Your papa must be so disappointed.”