Carnage by Sarah Bailey

Eight

West

When Drake texted me earlier to tell me we were having a household meeting, I almost threw my phone across the room. Coming down from the drug-induced haze I’d been in last night had been shit. I’d not ventured down to the office for that very reason. Andrew could handle everything. The risk of running into her made me feel… violent. I wouldn’t subject anyone to my shit right now. Especially not her.

Prescott wandered into my bedroom without knocking, finding me in bed with an unlit joint between my fingertips. I’d been contemplating whether or not to smoke it before going down.

“Time to get up.”

“Fuck off.”

I twirled a lighter around in my other hand. Prescott advanced on me, snagging the joint from my fingers before I had a chance to stop him and walking back out. He was taking his own life into his hands with me, but he knew that. And he knew I wouldn’t really hurt him. Not in the way I did other people.

Fucking bastard!

I hauled myself up, tugged on my dressing gown, not bothering with a t-shirt and slid my lighter and phone into the pockets. Padding out along the corridor, I descended the stairs into the open plan living space. Prescott stood by the window with my joint dangling from his fingertips. Francis looked ready to kill someone. Drake lounged on one sofa with a beer in his hand.

“Nice of you to join us,” he said.

“This fuck stole my joint.” I pointed at Prescott.

“You can have it back when we’re done.”

Not wanting to punch my friend’s lights out, I stalked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge, popping the cap with a bottle opener. I leant against the kitchen island near Francis, who glared at me.

“What crawled up your arse today, Frankie?”

Instead of replying, he leant over and flicked my ear. I shoved him in the arm. The prick thought he could take me. Too bad he always lost. I liked to push his buttons and watch him get riled up. Francis needed to loosen the fuck up and let go.

“Would you two behave like adults for once in your fucking lives?” Drake interjected.

Francis walked away from me, but not before throwing another dirty look my way, and took a seat on the sofa opposite Drake. I downed half my beer and waved a hand at him.

“Go on then, your majesty, what is this about?”

Drake stuck a finger up, making me smile.

“We need to talk about Little Nyx,” Prescott said.

My blood froze in my veins.

That fucking nickname.

I hated it. I hated it so fucking much. Echoes of the past flooded my senses.

Moonlight. The forest. Her twirling under the canopy. Her smile as she looked at me. The feel of her skin against mine as she let me hold her.

My hand tightened around my beer bottle. I needed to keep that shit at bay.

“I told you never to say that in my presence. Do you ever fucking listen?”

“Get over yourself, West. You’re acting like none of us knows what it felt like when she was fucking ripped out of our lives. We were all there.”

If Prescott didn’t have my last joint in his possession, I would’ve launched myself at him. I didn’t have the patience or energy to get in touch with any of my dealers. If these three had left me in peace to chill out for a while, then I wouldn’t be so fucking riled up right now.

I downed the rest of my beer, needing something to take the edge off. Anything. But nothing ever fixed me. I was too fucked up in the head. Un-fucking-hinged.

Fuck, I really want to beat someone bloody right now.

“Whatever, Pres,” I muttered, moving towards the fridge to grab another beer.

“We’re going to give you what you want, West,” Drake said, making me freeze in the process of opening the fridge door.

“And what exactly do you think it is that I want? If the answer isn’t my joint, then you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

I grabbed three beers and set them on the counter before popping the caps. Picking them up, I walked into the living room and handed one to Francis and the other to Prescott. He didn’t give me my joint back, but he did nod at me. Francis had barely acknowledged me. I expected nothing less. He was already in a shitty mood for some reason.

“You want her.”

I walked away from Prescott and sat on the dining table, earning a glare from Francis as I swigged from my beer.

“How do you figure that?”

“We’re not stupid, that’s how,” Prescott said.

“No one asked you.”

Drake snapped his fingers, bringing our attention back to him.

“Enough.”

“Get to the fucking point then.”

I was done with this conversation already.

“She walked into our kingdom, a little sacrificial lamb sent to slaughter… I’m saying we treat her that way.”

“Have you been in West’s drug stash again?” Francis interjected, his expression turning outright murderous.

“No.”

“Then what the fuck, Drake? That’s not what we agreed.”

Drake’s lip curled up at the side.

“She doesn’t remember us, Francis. She doesn’t remember a fucking thing.”

“What kind of excuse is that? She’s been here a day. Did you expect all her memories to come flooding back the moment she saw us? Jesus, she has amnesia, it’s not like it’s her fault she can’t remember who we are.”

Francis had a point. I hated it, but he had a point. She didn’t have a choice. She didn’t ask to forget who we were. She didn’t ask for any of this. Especially not what we planned to do to her. How we intended to use her. Except now it sounded like Drake wanted us to use her for more. Use her in ways none of us should, but all of us wanted to, deep down. Especially me. I wanted her like nothing else. Not to be my balm like she had been all those years ago. No, I wanted to indulge in everything I’d never allowed myself before.

“We all wanted her back. She’s here, but she’s not really with us… yet. So excuse me for wanting to make sure she doesn’t leave again.”

“What? By messing with her head further? You really have no fucking morals.”

“Like you can say anything. You don’t fool anyone here, Francis. Did you forget who you’re talking to?”

Francis stood up and paced away as he knocked back some of his beer.

“No. I haven’t, but she’s one of us, Drake.” He let out a long sigh. “At least, she used to be.”

“We can’t do anything to her until Annika leaves,” Prescott said, waving my joint around, which only pissed me off further. He needed to be careful with that shit. I’d rolled it just right.

“No, but we can worm our way inside her head,” Drake replied. “See how she responds… how far she will go. I was all for what we planned until I saw her again.”

At least we could all agree on that fact. She’d grown up. Words could not describe how alluring she’d become. Not that she hadn’t been before, only now she was a woman. All woman and it made her fucking dangerous, but we could handle it. The four of us never backed down from a challenge.

“And now you want more,” Francis said, his voice quiet.

“You don’t?”

His back stiffened and he drank deep from his beer.

“I do.”

“Well, are we agreed then?” Prescott asked.

I downed my beer, placed it on the table before hopping off it. I approached Prescott and put my hand out, waiting for him to give me what I came down here for.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Give me the fucking joint.”

He dropped it in my hand, his eyebrow shooting up. I turned away and walked towards the stairs, digging my lighter out of my pocket.

“West,” Drake said.

“You already know my answer.”

If we were going all out, then I was in. I was all the way fucking in, because I never said no. They knew that. It was Francis they had to convince.

“I need to hear it from your mouth.”

I walked up the stairs, flipping my lighter on and off. As I reached the top, I leant over the glass barrier, staring down at the three of them. Flicking my lighter back on, I lit my joint and took a long drag. I blew it out a moment later, feeling the hit and knowing I’d sleep well tonight.

“Is he in?” I pointed at Francis with my joint.

“If we’re in, he’s in.”

Francis glared at Drake but didn’t dispute what he’d said.

“I won’t go near her until the two weeks are up… until Annika is gone, then all bets are off, understood?”

Drake and Prescott smiled, but Francis looked like he wanted to throw himself at them.

“You planning to let her get settled in, lull her into a false sense of security?”

I stuck my lighter back in my pocket before tapping my nose.

“Exactly.”

“You are all fucked in the head,” Francis said before stalking away towards our home gym, his hand tugging at his tie.

“As if you aren’t one of us,” I called to his retreating back. “Stop being so fucking self-righteous.”

He didn’t acknowledge what I’d said. Clearly, he’d had enough of us today. Whatever shit was going through his head right now, Drake could fucking well deal with it. I was not in the mood. Then again, I was never in the mood when it came to his moral compass. Not that he had one, but he liked to pretend he did. Francis battled with demons, not unlike my own, but he never let them out. I said live and let fucking live. We were who we were. We should fucking own that shit. All of us.

Gods amongst men.

It’s what they called us. Why the fuck shouldn’t we behave that way?

“Is there anything else?” I asked Drake and Prescott.

“No,” Drake replied, waving his beer at me.

I took another drag from my joint and walked away towards my bedroom. Knowing I wouldn’t have to keep myself in check around her for long calmed me as well as the cannabis making its way through my system. I didn’t know what had got into Drake and Prescott today, but something had changed. I didn’t care either. We were all going to hell one day, so why not fuck shit up a little more in the meantime?

You have no idea what you’ve walked into, Scarlett. No idea at all.