Chapter 12: God of Pain: Chapter 12

They try to stop me from following.

Nikolai, Killian, Gareth, and all the guards, I mean.

However, I’m apparently a force to be reckoned with today.

After I make sure Jeremy’s getting medical care and is recuperating in the safe eastern end of the house, I catch up with them.

The fire has been put out, but the whole western end of the house has been eaten by the flames. All that remains is dark soot, walls, and the occasional firefighter. After witnessing the show, or some of it, the students, who weren’t supposed to be here in the first place, were kicked off the property.

My brother’s friends have carried Creighton into the annexed house that wasn’t touched by the fire. Probably because the guards and all their equipment and security gadgets are here.

Obviously, the main house was the assailants’ target.

A guard stands in front of the door, burly and big, and all but blocks the entire entrance.

“Please go back to the main house, miss,” he says in a Russian accent, not bothering to even look at me.

If it were any other time, I’d tuck my tail between my legs and do as I’m told. It’s all part of my sheltered upbringing and the harsh world that my father and brother tried their hardest to keep me away from.

Avoiding conflict and living in my pretty purple-colored bubble isn’t only good for my sake but also for everyone else’s.

But something changed tonight.

It happened sometime between the time when I could no longer hear Jeremy’s voice and when he passed out and couldn’t save himself.

I realized that neither Jeremy nor Papa will always be there. The time has come for me to regain control over my own life.

Usually, I don’t glare at people. Hell, I don’t even know how, but I manage to as I speak in a nonnegotiable tone. “Move.”

“I have orders to not allow anyone inside, miss.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “You’ll have no orders to obey if I tell Papa you failed to protect Jeremy and me. We are your priority, not whatever invalid orders you’re trying to follow. So unless you want to be kicked out of Papa’s close circle, I suggest you move out of my way right this instant.”

This time, the guard stares down at me, brows lifted as if he’s seeing me for the first time. Then he steps aside with the sluggishness of an opening gate.

I storm inside and head to where the voices are coming from.

Yes, Jeremy has made sure to keep me away from his club and whatever nefarious activities he does in the dark, but that doesn’t mean I’m clueless about what’s going on.

Papa has always said that knowledge is power, so I made sure to accumulate as much of it as possible and tucked that information into neat boxes at the back of my head in case I needed it someday.

That day is now.

My ability to gain comes naturally. The guards like it when I treat them to meals the cook has made—not mine, since apparently no one likes my cooking. As a reward for treating them, they tell me things.

Gareth freely divulges some information, too, when I probe a little—the right amount of little that won’t trigger his suspicion.

So I know a lot more than the Heathens would let out.

I arrive at the half-open metal door at the end of the hall. Ordinarily, they’d close it to dispel any unwanted attention, but they must’ve been in a hurry this time.

My steps are inaudible as I push the door open and step inside.

The scene I find freezes me in place.

The room is stark white from the walls to the floor and to the shelves on either side. It’s almost blinding.

And those shelves? They’re full of all types of knives, metal objects, canes, and baseball bats. And those are just the ones I recognize. There are other different tools I can’t begin to name that shine with bad mojo and the promise of torture.

My gaze flits to the reason I defied all rules and reason and came here.

Creighton.

Thick rope straps him to a metal chair as he sits there, unconscious, his head lolled forward at an awkward angle.

Nikolai picks up what looks like a cane and glides his fingers over it. “I vote for caning him and paying tribute to his Middle Age ancestors.”

Killian presses on a Taser, creating a spark that echoes in the silence. “This will be more effective in making him talk.”

At that, Nikolai swings the cane in the air and it makes a whooshing sound before he slaps it on his hand. “This will leave a mark and that’s more important in teaching the motherfucker a lesson.”

“Whatever you’re doing, get to it.” Gareth leans against the wall, arms and ankles crossed, appearing bored with the whole conversation between his brother, Killian, and his cousin.

“We can’t push violence, Gaz.” Nikolai breathes heavily. “There needs to be the right preparation.”

I take a few seconds to lock up the strong emotions roaring inside me. If I let them loose, I’ll only be emotional, and feelings don’t work on these guys.

If anything, they’ll use them against me.

After putting on my cool façade, I stroll inside, easing my previously clenched fists. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing, stop it.”

Three pairs of eyes slide in my direction, all dark and intimidating. Usually, that would give me immediate anxiety.

I can feel the pang of discomfort rushing through my chest and clogging my throat, but I squash it down.

“And what are you doing here?” Nikolai tilts his head in my direction, still stroking his weapon of choice. His state of half-nakedness coupled with all the tattoos and the deadly look in his eyes would’ve made me bolt not too long ago.

Not today.

“I know you’ll torture Creighton, and I’m here to tell you it’s not going to happen.”

“This is not the place for you, ,” Killian says, voice becoming mocking at the princess part. “Go play with your dolls. That is, if they didn’t get burned in the fire.”

“The dolls can wait.” I match his mocking tone. “And I’m not leaving.”

Gareth pushes off the wall, walks to me, and takes his time to sound calm—human. “This is a lot more serious than you think, Annika. You shouldn’t concern yourself with it or waste your breath on it. How about you go check on Jeremy?”

“Not until you let Creighton go.”

“No can do.” Nikolai swings his weapon in the air. “This motherfucker thought he could burn our compound and walk away as if nothing happened.”

I take a step backward, my back nearly meeting the wall.

Doubt slaps me across the face when his words and the events sink in.

What Nikolai is saying could be true.

After all, Creighton attempted arson in this same place before. What’s stopping him from widening his scope and going after the whole house?

My limbs tremble at the thought of him doing that and not caring if Jeremy and I died.

If everyone in the house died.

I internally shake my head. I’m not going to believe those suspicions unless there are hard facts.

Besides, Creighton wouldn’t burn the house while I’m in it, right? True, we haven’t known each other for a long time, but he doesn’t hate me.

So instead of falling into whatever black hole my brain is forming, I laugh, head tilting back for extra effect.

“What’s gotten into you?” Nikolai watches me as if I’m an alien. “Did you hit your head earlier?”

“I’m just laughing at how ridiculous all of that sounds.” I wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes, pretending to make a huge effort to stop being amused. “Creighton was with me from the time I went to bed.”

Gareth raises a brow. “With you?”

I throw a hand in the air. “You know, me.”

Silence falls over the room for a beat too long and I do my best to appear unaffected. I didn’t have enough time to think of a solution to save Creighton from certain torture, and this was the best idea that popped into my head.

Here’s to hoping my storytelling skills will be able to convince these three.

Killian presses the Taser against Creighton’s cheek without breaking eye contact with me.

I’ve studied in the same private schools as these guys, and Killian has always been the scariest, along with Nikolai. But while his cousin is open about his methods, Kill is discreet, and the only evidence he leaves behind is a trail of destruction.

While Gareth is approachable with prince-like looks, Killian has a serial killer’s beauty with his dark hair and somber blue eyes that only shine when Glyn is around.

I’m pretty sure he’s a psychopath, and that makes him the hardest to convince. Not to mention, looking straight into his eyes is similar to being dissected alive.

“Did he now?” he muses. “Pray tell, how did he manage to bypass security? The only way he can come inside the property is if he hacks into our system and stops our camera feed. Like say…the perpetrator of the fire.”

“Right!” Nikolai agrees with his cousin. “Let me beat the fuck out of this motherfucker.”

I step forward, feeling less and less nervous. “Why would he go to such lengths and hack the system when I gave him my access card?”

Killian presses the Taser against Creighton’s cheek harder and it takes everything in me not to flinch. “You’re trying to tell us you invited a guy over under Jeremy’s roof?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Jer is watching my every move, so the best way to go unnoticed is to meet Creighton where he wouldn’t suspect it.”

I remain standing strong under the scrutiny of their watchful eyes. I’m pretty sure I’ve convinced them, or at least, I’ve opened up their tunnel vision.

Nikolai’s gaze bounces between me and Creighton. “Wait a minute. If he was in your room, how come I didn’t see him with you when the fire first broke out?”

“I told him to stay put until I investigated the situation since I didn’t want him to run into you guys.” I’d high five myself if I could. Now, that’s a believable lie.

“Still…” Gareth starts.

“Still what?” I lift my chin. “Creighton saved my and Jeremy’s lives. You should be rewarding him instead of beating him up for it. Besides, if you’re worried this is the Elites’ doing, it still doesn’t make sense to threaten Creighton. He was never a part of that club.”

“His cousin is,” Killian says matter-of-factly.

“But he isn’t. Never was and never will be. The time you’re wasting here could’ve been used to worry about the Serpents that you so thoroughly offended, Kill. Surely you realize they’re the most likely culprits behind this mess?”

I can tell that I’m getting to them, considering the subtle change in their expressions. They must’ve thought about the Serpents’ angle, too, but since they had Creighton in their grip, they chose to believe it would be the Elites instead.

Nikolai tosses away his weapon, appearing dejected that his fun has been ruined.

“I must admit, the whole story sounds convoluted,” Killian says. “You’re not even worried that Jeremy can and will hear about this incident?”

I swallow, not feeling so brave anymore. Still, I try my best to preserve the façade. “I’ll talk to my brother when he wakes up. In the meantime, let Creighton go.”

Both Killian and Nikolai step out of the room.

Only Gareth stays behind and helps me untie him. The dried trail of blood looks gruesome against his ethereally beautiful face.

The lack of light gives his features harsh angles, almost sinister to the eye. His lips are slightly parted and I can’t help reaching a hand out to touch them, or touch him. But then I recall he doesn’t like being touched, so I let it drop to my side.

After we’re done removing the ropes, I crouch by his chair. “Is he going to be okay?”

Gareth leans back against the wall, arms crossed, expression nonchalant but alert. Dirt smudges his wet shirt, neck, and face as lingering evidence of the fire. “He’s just unconscious. Will probably wake up in a few.”

“I’ll call Remi and Lan to come pick him up.”

“Or you can wait until he wakes up and leaves on his own.”

“I don’t trust Kill or Niko not to come back here and finish what they started.”

Gareth smiles. “That’s true. Call away, but instead of Landon, make it Brandon. Elites aren’t welcome here.”

“Okay. Thanks, Gareth.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Jeremy will find out about this one way or another. Before anyone else opens their mouth, I’ll be the one to tell him about this whole scene.”

“I understand.”

I think I’ve gotten myself in worse trouble than I bargained for.

So I might have overestimated my abilities to deal with the fallout from the fire.

After Jeremy woke up and found out about the thing with Creighton, he downright forced me into house arrest.

I’m escorted back and forth between REU and the mansion. I’m not even allowed to volunteer at the shelter.

His excuse: it’s dangerous.

And this time, Mom is on his and Papa’s side. She even told me that it was a good idea to come home for a while.

It’s been a week of constant security, boundaries, and stupid locked-up prison.

I can only talk to the girls via texts or sometimes when I beg the guards to let me have lunch with them.

Well, not really beg. I’ve learned to threaten, too.

The silver lining about this situation is that Jeremy didn’t personally go against Creighton. Probably because he knows he saved his life.

But he still told me he’ll be a dead man if he sees him in my company.

Which is why I’ve kept my distance.

Remi and Bran picked him up that day, and Remi said to absolutely not let Eli know about the incident of his brother’s kidnapping or torture attempt.

“If the psycho Eli finds out this happened to Cray Cray, he’ll burn the entire mansion down after making sure all the Heathens are in it this time,” Remi said.

“And he’ll make sure no one escapes his wrath,” Bran continued in a sympathizing tone. “Take it from us, Anni. Eli and Lan are the two people you want to avoid and never, under any circumstances, get on their bad side.”

I haven’t seen or talked to Creighton since they took him away.

He sent me a few texts soon after, mostly asking if I was okay and how I managed to get him out, and this time, I’m the one who left him on Read.

I may have embraced the courageous me, but she can’t be reckless. Not when I’m sure Jeremy’s threats could become reality in no time.

And maybe it’s for the best anyway. I’d never forgive myself if something were to happen to him because of me.

Besides, since the fire, it’s been getting absolutely dirty between the three clubs.

It’s still unknown whether the Serpents or the Elites were behind the fire, or if it was a joint effort.

Tension has been rising in the air at both universities and it’s very similar to the Cold War. All three of the clubs are packing their forces and no one knows when mayhem might strike.

Today, I managed to convince Jeremy to let me go to the shelter without the guards.

He only allowed it if the guards remained outside, so I couldn’t really complain.

The first thing I do as soon as I arrive is go to check on Tiger. I jog to his cage, grinning for the first time in a week. “Missed you, baby! How have you—”

I stop short when I find a small hamster where Tiger is supposed to be.

My heartbeat picks up and I back away slowly. Harry, who’s walking down the hall, catches a glimpse of me and comes running.

“Where have you been, girl? We missed the shit out of your face.” He gathers me in a hug and I return it, still stupefied about my find.

“I was busy with school,” I offer as we break apart. “Hey, Harry, where’s Tiger?”

“Tiger?” he repeats. “Oh, Tiger, the cat you let ride your face? He’s gone.”

I nearly faint, my feet taking a step back. Harry grabs my arm and slaps his forehead. “Jesus, me and my mouth. I don’t mean gone as in dead gone. No, nope. I would have told you that and we would’ve had a proper funeral and shit. He’s gone, as in, he was adopted.”

“Oh.” My breathing slowly returns to normal, but the stab of pain doesn’t subside. I’m glad he found a loving owner, but I wish I could’ve said goodbye. “Do you know who adopted him?”

“No clue. Heard about it from Dr. Stephanie when I went to feed him this morning.” He playfully tugs on my cheek. “Now, spill the actual reason you’ve been gone. And don’t give me the ‘busy with school’ bullshit. Did you go on a beauty retreat without taking me? I’m gonna need deets on where you do your facials, because, sweet Jesus, you don’t only look like a doll, but your skin also feels like a doll’s.”

I smile. “Shh, don’t tell anyone about the beauty retreat. It’ll be our little secret.”

“I knew it. This little bitch, I swear.” He teasingly pinches my cheek more. “Take me with you next time?”

“Can you let go of me first?” I laugh.

“Not until you promise. Just the two of us so none of the others find out the secret.”

One moment, I’m laughing at Harry’s antics, the next, I’m pulled back by a savage grip on my waist.

I slam against a hard chest as an all-encompassing presence looms over me.

Creighton’s fingers dig into the fabric of my dress at the waist as if he’s intending to burn it and engrave his fingerprints on my skin.

My head whips up to get a glimpse of his face. There’s no trail of blood now, no soot or impurities over his criminally attractive features.

There’s darkness, though, the slow, simmering type that could and would transform into a hurricane.

Despite my resolution to stay away, malevolent butterflies erupt in my stomach with the intention of devouring me from the inside out.

It’s unfair that he’s in his usual jeans and hoodie but still looks straight out of a fashion show. It’s even more unfair that he has the superpower of snatching my attention without even trying.

“She said to let her go.” His deep voice is laced with a timbre of anger and I shiver, even though it’s not directed at me.

Harry, who is forced to release me, seems oblivious to the tension and merely gawks at him. “Oh my, hi there, handsome. Didn’t know you actually talked. And we missed you this whole week! Wait a minute, do you only come for Anni?”

My lips part. Don’t tell me Creighton hasn’t been at the shelter when I wasn’t around?

Instead of answering him, Creighton basically drags me with him to the small nook I use as an office, leaving Harry behind.

“Nice talking to you!” he shouts behind us. “And don’t forget about our deal, Anni, or I’ll sacrifice you to Jesus and start calling you Nika.”

“Don’t you dare!” I glare at him over my shoulder.

He just makes a face, grins, then forms a hole with his fingers and slides the index finger of his other hand in and out of it in a suggestive way.

My cheeks heat as Creighton pushes me into the room and slams the door shut behind us.

All the embarrassment is forgotten when his chest crashes against mine.

My feet falter backward until I hit the wall. I open my mouth to speak, but even that is put to a halt when he grabs my hands and throws them above my head against the wall.

The deep gravel of his voice reverberates on my skin when he whispers too close to my face, “I’m going to ask you a few questions and you’ll answer them, Annika. Lie to me, and you’ll be punished. Are we clear?”