Guilty Pleasure

08

I make a mental note to remember that.

"Damien," I try to get his attention.

He looks over to me, "Yeah?"

"When can we get starter on finding the boy? I'd rather be home than locked up here," my tone is sharp.

"Tonight-" he get cut off by a grunt.

I face where the sound came from. Alek throw his dish in the sink, I'm suprised it didn't break.

"Are you fucking serious, Damien?" Alek raises his voice, his palms planted on the table.

Damien simply just raises a brow at his brother.

"Do you not remember the part where she tried to shoot me?" he bursts, "The part where we have no fucking reason to trust her? She could be a spy for all we know!"

I muffle my laugh by using the back of my hand. That's very ironic. 

Both my hands go to the table, stabalizing me as my laughter grows. Eyes turn to me but I simply don't care, this is too hilarious.

I don't miss the lethal glare Damien is sending me. I stand up from my chair, shaking my head as my laughter dies out.

I have to go beside Alek to put my bowl in the sink. Once I set it down I turn to Alek.

"You're a funny guy, you know that right?" I tap his chest with my index finger.

His gaze lowers to my hand. I press my finger harder against his chest, I can feel as my nail digs into his skin through the fabric covering his chest.

He shoves my hand away and I grin.

"You're right, you have no reason to trust me, but it's a bit obvious that you don't have anyone smart enough to find a six year old boy, huh? So you all have to result in using the person you kidnapped because she was smart enough to find out where you all were," I don't dare to take my eyes away from his.

He loses, his eyes move from mine to his brother's. I roll my eyes, heading straight for the doorway.

"Psychotic," I hear him mutter.

I hault in my steps, twisting on my heels.

I put on a pouty face.

"I'm truly hurt, Alek," I clench my fist, bringing it to my heart. "Before you make a 'rude' remark about me, remember what I am, I will have no hesitation to kill you. To me, you're nothing but a target."

He stares at me blankly before his mouth tilts up.

"What are you going to do, huh, kill me? We've taken your weapons away and ours are all locked up," he is confident as if that would stop me.

I snort escapes me, "Knives and guns are an accessory, an addition. Do you know how easy it is to snap a person's neck with your simple hands or legs even?"

His face pales, and I glance over to Damien, a smirk lies lazily on his face. 

I give him one nod, "I'll be in my room for when you need to find me."

With that said, I leave the room and follow my old path back to my bedroom.

When I reach my room I slam the door shut, the floors shake with the thud that rings out. The urge to punch my fist into the wall consumes me, but I overpower it, not letting it take over like the spiders.

Every since I was little I have had to dealt with the name calling, the shaming for my ways. I've tried to not let it effect me but it's hard sometimes, especially when everyone is looking at you as if you're an animal in the cage at the zoo.

I have always had trouble showing my emotions. I hide my vulnerablity as much as I can, too terrified something could happen again like last time.

The feeling of love and sadness are feeling I have probably never really felt. I tell my family I love them, but I don't really understand what that means or how it feels. I've lost many people in my life, people I would call my friends and not once have I felt an ounce of dred when I lose them. 

The only two feelings I really understand is joy and rage. I get blinded in red and can't control myself and then suddenly there is a body on the floor.

So, hearing the name 'Psychopath', it really does have truth to it, and it creates the blur of red.

I couldn't go to school when I was younger because the first week I was enrolled, I had put another student in the emergency room. I was expelled without a second thought, my Mamma and Papà figured the best, safer decision would be to keep me home.

I had to be homeschooled. My 'uncle' Furore took over that role, which was a plus due to the fact he is a genius. Rather than having to read about The Great Gatsby, I was in an office learning how to hack into systems. By the time I was sixteen I was about as intelligent as Furore and that's a lot to say.

My brother, Vince, had no problem going to school. He was usually top of his classes. My papà always said he was too serious when we were growing up. Vince is easily the most engrossed in the buisness than anyone in the family.

Sometimes I feel like I was sent from the devil himself to do his dirty work up here, so then when they go to him he can continue where I left off.

I wouldn't be suprise if it was true.

Wetness touches my palm, bring my hands into view, blood covers them. I was digging my nails so hard into my palms, they bled.

A knock on my door makes me hide my hands behind my back.

"Yes?" I call out.

"Can I come in?" a newly voice I now know as Kai speaks behind the wooden seperation.

"Uh yeah," I say, looking around for a towel.

The door opens and Kai's tall frame steps in. He gives me a questionable look as my hands stay behind my back.

"Watchya got behind your back?" he wiggles his brows.

"A decapitated head," my voice is so serious he actually looks as if he believes me.

And, when I bring my hands infront of me his mouth drops open and then closes.

"Where is it? Wait- No, whose is it?" he asks.

I sigh, "Do you have anything I can wipe my hands off with?"

He holds up a finger to tell me to hold on a second. A minute later he's back with a grey towel in his hands and he tosses it over to me.

Catching it, I wipe the blood from my hands. My thumb runs over the skin torn into cresent moons.

"What happened?" Kai asks.

A hallow laugh leaves my lips, I bring my hands infront of him and clench, then unclentch them.

He nods understandingly. He sucks in a long breath, rocking on his feet.

"Hey, I'm sorry about Alek. He can be a dick, but you get where he's coming from, right?" I  whisper back 'Right.'

I take a seat at the end of the bed, Kai follow suit.

"Damien asked me to check up on you," I just stare blankly at him.

I gesture my hand over my body, "Well, you can see; I'm all in one piece, so you're good to go."

I see the frown play at his lips before he straightens his mouth. Getting up from his spot beside me, he heads over to the door.

Turning to me, "If you need me I'll be in my room," he informs me.

"I won't," I tell him honestly.

Visibly his shoulders tense and he leaves without looking back.

I stare off into space. Even as annoying as they are, I could really use Matteo and his facts right now.