Crown of Thorns by E.M. Snow
21
“The mailbox for this number is full…”
“Damn it,” I growl, ending the call. “Jasper, check your fucking messages.”
I’ve been bombarding Jasper with calls pretty much since I woke up and remembered that he answered his phone last night. I’ve had no luck getting him to pick up again this morning, but I keep trying. I’m actually feeling hopeful. Last night was the most response I’ve gotten from my brother in such a long time, so I’ll cling to the possibility that he’ll actually talk to me with the tips of my bloody fingers if I have to.
I’m sitting in the kitchen, a forgotten and soggy bowl of cereal on the island counter in front of me as I hit the dial button again.
“The mailbox for this number is full…”
“Really?” I groan.
“Someone woke up with their panties in a twist,” a deep voice says from behind me, and I freeze. I’m confused as to why its owner is suddenly speaking to me.
I swivel around on my bar chair and arch a brow at Alaric as he moves out of the doorway and further into the kitchen. “Good morning,” I say, giving an awkward wave.
He nods his blond head and heads to the fridge. “Morning, Hendrix.”
I stare at him as he pulls out the milk jug and then goes to the huge walk-in pantry where the cereal is kept. He’s acting so normal, it’s annoying. He goes from ignoring me and avoiding me to sitting with me for breakfast like it’s nothing?
“Okay.” I watch him through narrowed eyes as he pours his cereal and milk. Once he takes a seat at the island next to me, I tentatively ask, “So, we’re speaking again?”
Because he hasn’t had much to say to me in weeks, not since he defended me against Kallista’s taunts in the hallway at school.
He releases a long sigh and scratches the back of his neck. “Well, when you start making stupid decisions, you don’t really leave me any choice but to speak.”
He gets right to it, doesn’t it? No small talk. No asking how my weekend was. Just Alaric tossing out a random insult. “And what stupid decisions are we speaking of now?”
He swivels in his seat so he’s facing me fully. “Easton Madigan.”
I blink, taken aback at the name drop. “What about him?”
“Stay away from him,” Alaric tells me in a firm voice. “He’s bad news.”
Irritation flares within me. “Are you kidding me?”
“I’m being dead serious.”
“Why should I stay away from him? Hmm? Give me one good reason.”
“Just do what you’re told,” he coolly replies, ignoring my question, which doesn’t surprise me. That seems to be an ongoing theme within these walls. “Phoenix doesn’t want you around him. That’s reason enough.”
“Phoenix doesn’t want you around me either,” I angrily point out. There appears to be no rational minds in this whole household.
“That’s different.”
I scoff. “How? Is it because we have history? Or is Phoenix that threatened by a girl he clearly wants nothing to do with?”
Alaric doesn’t reply and his eyes lock onto something over my shoulder. I stiffen, suddenly hyper-aware that we are not alone anymore. Slowly, I turn on my seat and find Phoenix standing in the kitchen doorway, stony-faced and thrumming with silent fury.
Fuck.
* * *
I’mon edge all throughout school, a sense of impending dread hanging over me like a storm cloud. Phoenix didn’t speak to me at all on the drive to school, but I could tell he was angry. No, angry isn’t a strong enough word. He was enraged, though I’m honestly not sure if it’s because of what I said or because Alaric and I were talking to each other in the first place.
Whatever the reason, I have a bad feeling I’m the one that’s going to be facing the consequences and the brunt of his wrath.
I make my way through the school day feeling very much like a splatter on a pristine white canvas. Everyone else is excited for tomorrow night’s football game, but I don’t care about it at all, really. I’m too busy worrying about what Phoenix is going to do to try and make my life even more miserable than it already is.
In fact, I’m so distracted, worrying about the bastard’s next move, that even Kallista can’t get to me today.
She catches me in the hallway after second block and launches into her usual insults. “Suck any good dick this morning?” she jeers.
I don’t respond. I just keep walking, my brain fixated on Phoenix and how much I hate him. Which only makes my apparent lust for him all the more confusing.
Third block and lunch seem to breeze by, because of course they do. It’s as if the universe can’t wait for me to get to fourth block, where the fun of my day is sure to continue. When I arrive to class, Easton is already in the seat behind mine. I make my way across the room to him and smile with a shake of my head. “A little early today, aren’t you?” I ask.
He hunches his shoulders in a shrug. “Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t late, that’s all.”
“Uh-huh.” I slip into my seat just as Phoenix walks through the door. He doesn’t even glance my way as he makes his way to the seat he’d always occupied when class had first begun, right in the center of the room where everyone can see and adore him.
Still, I’m so aware of his presence that I can’t concentrate in class. He’s like this beacon that keeps drawing my attention, whether I like it or not. I just can’t stand not knowing what he’s thinking or planning for me. If I just knew, even if I had to wait for it to actually happen, I think it would be better. Then I could at least prepare.
This? The not knowing, the wondering, the uncertainty…
This is true torture.
Before I know it, the bell rings and class is over. I shove to my feet and quickly make my way out of the room, not bothering to look Phoenix’s way as I pass him. I duck my head and walk swiftly down the hall, so focused on getting away from him that I almost don’t hear my name being called behind me. When the insistent voice finally penetrates my distracted daze, I twist around to find Easton coming up to me.
“In a hurry?”
I give him a nervous smile, peering over his shoulder to make sure Phoenix isn’t storming toward us. After what happened this morning with Alaric, that’s the last thing I need. When he’s nowhere in sight, I let out a low breath of relief.
“Just running from my demons, per usual. What’s up?”
He scratches the back of his head and slants me with an almost shy look. “I was wondering if you’re doing anything after the game Friday night?”
My brows shoot so far up that it’s a wonder they don’t touch my hairline. “I wasn’t even really planning on going to the game, to be honest.” I never go, so why start now?
“You should,” he insists. “And then, afterwards, maybe we—”
“The fuck is this?” I jump at the sound of Phoenix’s voice. The asshole. Of course, he’d pick this exact moment to make his grand, terrible entrance.
But if it’s so terrible, why the hell does my pulse throb when his scent overwhelms my senses?
Stockholm syndrome, I tell myself, trying my best to pretend my pulse is normal, that there’s not a desperate ache in my core, that I didn’t get off to the thought of him last night. Definitely Stockholm syndrome.
“What the fuck do you want, Townsend?” Easton snarls.
Phoenix doesn’t look at him right away. His eyes stay locked on me for a long, tense moment, and I’m helpless to do anything but stare back at him. At last, he turns his glare on Easton. “Let me make this very clear,” Phoenix says in a shockingly pleasant voice. “You get in my way, you touch her, I’ll fucking end you. Got it?”
“Are you threatening me now?”
“No.” Phoenix shakes his head, a dark lock of hair falling over his eyes. He pushes it back, and I swallow hard at the warning flashing behind those green irises. “Not threatening. Promising.”
The tension sizzles between them, so intense that I almost expect sparks to start flickering around us.
Easton crosses his arms over his chest. “You can threaten me all you like, but I don’t give a fuck. There’s nothing you can do to me, but you already know that. Don’t you?”
I blink up at him. No matter how many times I see him stand up to Phoenix, I can’t get used to it. Phoenix doesn’t appear bothered by Easton, though. In fact, his lips curl into a slow, savage smile.
“Don’t worry, you sonofabitch. You might not give a fuck now, but I promise you, you will.” With that, Phoenix turns and walks away, his hands shoved deep in his pockets and the muscles in his forearms straining. I’m left standing there, stunned and confused by his sudden dismissal after making such a point of getting in Easton’s face.
“That guy is such a dick,” Easton says.
I chew my lip, staring after Phoenix as my mind buzzes with questions.
“He is,” I readily agree in a soft voice, but I’m barely paying attention to him anymore. I hate how easily Phoenix steals and holds my attention, but I can’t help myself. He baffles me, one minute controlling and obsessive, and the next dismissive and cold. It’s infuriating.
“So, about Friday night…”
I drag my eyes back to him. “Can I let you know? I-I’m just not sure because…”
I trail off, but the end of my sentence hangs in the air.
Because of Phoenix.
For a second, I swear his expression hardens. The tiny hairs on the nape of my neck shoot to attention and the pit of my stomach gives a little jolt. But then, the look is gone, leaving me to question whether I imagined it. Now, he just looks disappointed, his shoulders slumped and a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“All right. Text me.”
I nod and force words out of my mouth. “I will.”
I don’t bother mentioning that I don’t have his number, but I know it’s what he wants to hear. He gives me a nod and a ghost of a smile as he turns and walks away. I wish the smile I give him is more genuine, but I’m too caught up in Phoenix to be able to really mean anything I do or say right now. I tell myself it’s because I’m still so nervous about his retaliation. That there’s no part of me that wonders if he’s jealous of Easton.
No part of me is wondering that at all.
* * *
I don’t expectthe knock on my door later that night as I get ready for bed. It startles me, but I don’t really have to guess who it is. The sound is harsh and aggressive, more of a demand than a request. Scowling, I cross my room and yank the door open, glaring up at Phoenix standing in the threshold.
“What now?” I snap with more force than is necessary.
He doesn’t seem to notice. “Move.”
I lift my chin and square my shoulders. “Why would I do that?”
He cocks a brow. “Because I told you to. Now, get the fuck out of the way.”
“And if I don’t? What’ll happen if I disobey the great Phoenix Townsend?”
“I’m not in the mood, Luna.”
Oh, good. He appears to be extra pissy tonight. Rolling my eyes, I step aside and let him enter, figuring the sooner he gets his way, the sooner he’ll leave me alone again. He comes to a stop in the middle of the room, and I firmly shut the door. I’m halfway to him when he whirls around and levels me with an ice-cold look.
“I told you to stay the fuck away from him.”
“I told you, you can’t tell me who I can and can’t hang out with. Besides, he approached me, I didn’t approach him.” That information shouldn’t really matter, because it’s none of his business, but I feel compelled to put it out there anyway.
He jabs a finger at me. “You make me sick. If you were a guy, I would have…”
For once, Phoenix Townsend, resident sociopath and all-around asshole, seems to be at a loss for words.
“Thank God for tits and vag,” I say.
His jaw clenches so tight, I’m surprised I don’t hear his teeth cracking. He starts to say something else, probably an insult, but then he drags his eyes up and down my body. I’m suddenly very aware of the length of my sweat shorts and that I’m not wearing a bra beneath my loose T-shirt.
My toes curl as I witness the flames behind his green gaze. “D-don’t do that,” I murmur, ninety percent of the bite fading from my voice.
“But it’s okay when Easton looks at you like this?”
He takes a step toward me. I’m not sure he even realizes he moved. I’m not sure if I should move away from him or stay right where I am. In the end, I remain rooted in place, and he takes another step closer once he realizes I’m not running from him.
We stare at each other for a long, agonizing beat, and I can’t help but let my gaze wander to his lips. They’re full and soft-looking, which is so strange when I think about how hard and unforgiving the rest of him is. What does he taste like? I can’t imagine his kiss would be gentle, but what would it be like to have his mouth ravaging me?
My thoughts startle me, and I shake my head to try and dispel them, but it’s too late. He’s already smirking, which means my unguarded expression has likely given me away. I wait to see what he’ll do. What I’ll do. It feels like there’s this energy sizzling between us, ready to explode, but I’m not sure if letting it blow would be a good or bad thing.
Suddenly, he lifts his hand. I don’t flinch as he cups my jaw and runs his thumb along my lower lip, his touch a bit rough. The urge to flick out my tongue and lick him has me fisting my hands at my sides and digging my fingernails into my palms to stop myself.
“I bet if I kissed you right now, you’d kiss me back, wouldn’t you?” he says in a low growl. He pulls my lip to the side, then lets it go to slip his hand up my cheek and into my hair. Grabbing a fistful of black strands, he yanks my head back, making a gasp spill from my lips. “Answer me.”
“I-I don’t know.” Lie. Such a pitiful lie.
He lowers his head so that his mouth is right next to my ear and breathes, “Would you let me fuck you, too?”
I whimper, though it’s not the fearful sound it should be. He tenses before leaning back to look down at me, and for a moment, I think he’s going to do it. He’s going to kiss me. And I have no plans to stop him.
That’s why it’s a total shock to my system when he lets me go and backs away from me. “You’ll open your legs for anything that moves, won’t you?”
His words are like ice water against my heated skin.
“Wh-what?” I stammer, my brain scrambling to catch up with his sudden change in attitude.
“Stay away from Easton. Don’t make me tell you again because I’m sick of having to repeat myself to you.”
With that, he brushes past me and rushes out of my room, leaving me stunned and utterly confused. What the fuck was that? I don’t know how to make sense of what just happened. All I can seem to do is continue standing in the middle of my room with my mouth hanging open like an idiot.
That’s what I get for momentarily trusting him.
I’m an idiot. He was just messing with me, and I fell for it without hesitation. My anger boils up, burning away the worst of my shock so I’m able to move. I stomp toward my bed, ready to throw myself on it and scream into my pillows, when I notice a light on my phone flashing. It’s the light that blinks when I have a text message I haven’t read. When did that come in? While Phoenix was fucking with me?
Frowning, I grab my phone and open the message.
Unknown: Where are you?
My heart starts to hammer in my chest. The message is from a number I don’t recognize but at least it’s not blocked like the number that had called me last night. My mind instantly latches onto the idea that there’s a good chance this is Jasper trying to make contact. With hurried fingers, I call the number, too eager to find out who it is to bother messaging it back.
I’m left disappointed and even more confused when the phone doesn’t even ring. Instead, a robotic female voice fills my ear and crushes my hopeful excitement.
“The number who have dialed is no longer valid…”