Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 167671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 838(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167671 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 838(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
I throw the flower into the box and lock it, then shove it under my bed, groaning impatiently as I cross my arms.
Fuck love.
I don’t know what it is, and I will never, ever need it. Especially not from some girl.
That flower will stay in its prison, rotting away for eternity.
Ivy
Present
I pick up the letter and read the words.
I was right. You are a thief.
But you were right too. You needed it more than I did.
So I’ve made sure that all the money Stefano kept in his bank that he tried to take to the grave was put in your name instead. Along with all the funds in my bank account.
All of it belongs to you now.
Every dollar. Every dime. Yours to spend as you see fit.
I try to read as fast as I can, but my heart is racing.
I once had a red flower.
A cheap, meaningless, plastic flower.
When I was young, my mom once gave it to me and told me to give it to a girl.
It would make her happy, she said.
I kept it in a box because I didn’t want to make anyone happy.
Until you stole it.
My throat feels constricted.
That’s why he wanted that plastic flower I gave to Cora back.
I stole the only way he knew how to show love.
It’s yours now, so keep it.
I also want you to have the knife you killed him with.
I told you, I’d make you fucking love sharp things just as much as I do.
Now go on, little thief …
Take what’s left of my fucking soul.
Silas
PS: Did you know even serial killers have a heart? I didn’t.
The letter shakes in my hand as tears begin to well up in my eyes.
He gave me and Cora … everything.
Just like I once promised him.
I stare at the words, wondering what on earth they mean, when a teardrop rolls down and falls on top, mixing with the ink. Ink … that turns red like blood.
And suddenly, it hits me.
I snatch the bloodied blade off the floor and rush out the door. I can’t storm down the stairs fast enough as I bolt out the front door, ignoring everything the girls are saying to me while I run as fast as I can toward the Skull and Serpent Society.
Now, more than ever, do I wish I could run faster.
When I finally get to the door, I ram the door so hard I nearly break through the wood. “Let me in! Now!”
When the door finally opens, Heath stands there, sheepishly staring at me like he can’t believe I’m here in the flesh.
“Move, now!” I yell.
He frowns. “What, why? What’s going on?”
“Silas has given me all of his money and a knife with blood on it,” I reply. “His blood.”
His eyes widen, and he immediately pulls away and bolts up the stairs with me, where I bump into Max on the way up.
“Ivy? What’s going on?” Max asks, still in his biker clothes.
But we both ignore him as we head straight for Silas’s room. Heath breaks down his door, and we rush into his room.
“Stop!”
CHAPTER 62
Silas
I look at my blood-caked body in the mirror and the scar permanently etched into my skin. Pain. God, the pain feels so damn good, I don’t think I can ever stop, and I don’t fucking want to.
Inside me is a void I kept filling with unending violence like some kind of black hole sucking everything in, and it was never satisfied.
Never.
Until …
Through the mirror, I stare at her over my shoulder and at the knife I gifted her. The knife she earned with just as much violence as I love to inflict.
In silence, she stares back at me through the mirror.
There’s blood all over the palms of my hands and my naked, tattooed torso. In disbelief, her eyes hover on my heart, where fresh blood still glistens from the letters I carved into my own skin.
Liar.
“Silas, what are you doing?” Heath asks.
Ivy’s whole body begins to shake. “Why did you do this?”
“I lied to myself. I truly thought I was a psychopath, just like you said.” My lip tips up into a half smile. “But you stole something from me that I didn’t even know existed.”
She looks shocked by what I’ve done and the words coming from my mouth.
A wicked smile forms on my lips. “Don’t you understand?” I point at my chest where my heart is. “My heart only beats when it’s in your hands.”
Her eyes are riddled with shock. Her lip quivers, but I need to say these fucking words, and she’d better fucking listen to me.
“I have never, ever felt anything … not for anyone,” I say. “Until you came along. And no matter what I do, who I hurt, who I kill, I can’t make it stop.”
This heart of mine was never made for beating.
And it definitely wasn’t made to be loved.