Alamort

9. Bennett

MEMORIES! - 347aidan

M y mind wanders away from the irritability with my brother as the permanent marker in my hand sketches away my worries.

I remember the first week I was separated from my ‘older’ brother, by 4 minutes, but “every minute counts”. Cue the eye roll.

I’d always been his shadow. It’s never bothered me because that’s where I was comfortable, safe, and protected. The hopelessness that accompanied being ripped away from my literal other half, my protector. That was damaging.

That’s when I had to learn to survive. I clench my fist around the marker, my knuckles ache, thinking of our abusers. Some people survive to grow from it, and others survive and silently fight their inner demons. The latter has worked for me. Well, personally, I like physically fighting it out with my demons.

Mostly, I take it out on Crew. They say, “You’re the most hurtful to the people who you know will love you unconditionally”. I know he was a victim of the same circumstance as I was. It wasn’t his fault, not really. When everything I knew was ripped away from me, I did whatever it took to make it through.

The door clicks shut and the room’s energy shifts. Nervousness pollutes the air. Taking a deep inhale, relishing the smell of fear. Like a shark drawn to blood in the water. The school’s dean clears his throat.

“Mr. Demonio! To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?” Barely refraining from rolling my eyes. He’s always given me a bad vibe. Crew swears he’s good for our cause. That he’ll be helpful to us as long as we can use him.

“Brian!” I clap my hands together with false enthusiasm. “Have a seat.” I point to the uncomfortable student’s chair across from me. Quite the cozy setup he has here. The leather winged back chair is more than comfortable. Under different circumstances, I might relax in it.

That’s a lie. I’m not good at staying still.

A single floor to ceiling window is the only outside source of light. It seems more opulent than it really is. He’s even added a little chandelier.

My eyes flick up to meet his. Sweat covers his upper lip and forehead. Why would he be sweating if he’s done nothing wrong? Sitting back, my eyes narrow in suspicion. I scan his office, looking for anything that appears out of place.

“I’m here to remind you of our agreement regarding our new student.” Relief flashes through his eyes and his posture relaxes. My lips purse, interesting. “All discipline will be approved through us. Her whereabouts reported to us. Her medical records and her class schedule need to be sent to Saint.” I continue to use his desk as a canvas. “Anything other than doing so will cause a rather unfortunate outcome.” Not that unfortunate. Killing him might be what I need.

I give him my charismatic smile, one that comes across as easygoing, but this isn’t an option or even a suggestion. This is a delicate operation. I’m not about to let this idiot fuck up everything we’ve worked for. The number of favors that had to be called in. The strings that had to be pulled. “It would be a shame if your wife found out you were bending the nurse over your desk every Thursday during your weekly ‘meetings’.” I stopped fucking her when I caught wind of Brian’s interest in her, which helped in our favor with blackmail to ruin his primary source of income.

His wife, Maria, is a beautiful Mexican woman. Crew said she’s in with the Mexican Mafia. But he wouldn’t give me any more details than that. I doubt Maria’s crazy ass would be happy to hear about his extramarital activities.

He gulps loudly in the otherwise silent room. The sweating has begun again. Applying the finishing touches to my drawing, I sit back and admire my work. Satisfied with an explicit depiction of his sweaty ass nailing the nurse over a desk in a 1950s nurse outfit for all to see. In case they weren’t sure who it was supposed to be. I stand to leave with the mental list of Crew’s tasks for the party tonight.

“I don’t need a reminder of what’s at stake.” He seethes. The anger quickly concealed. He’s going to be a problem. I’m calling it now. One that will be fun to get rid of.

“We sign your paychecks that keep your lifestyle and …. Extracurricular activities sustained. Don’t think the nurse is the only one we know about. You’re replaceable.” My voice turns cold to solidify the end of our conversation.

The door clicks shut behind me and I pull out my phone to update Saint on my progress and whereabouts. If I were to respond to Crew’s million texts, it would take away the satisfaction of driving him crazy by not answering. I roll my eyes at his latest batch of texts, asking if I’m ignoring him. I take my time exiting out of my brother’s texts to click on “Nehalem,” smirking at the nickname. I think I’m pretty clever. It’s suiting with the whole biblical shit the school has been going on with for years. Nehalem, the spawn of an angel and demon.

“Headmaster” is aware and enlightened. Keep an eye on him, something isn’t adding up.

You mean the dean? Is it bad?

Is it bad? No, it’s nothing Saint couldn’t handle. No matter how much I secretly despise Saint for taking my brother away from me and inserting himself as my twin’s best friend, he still is the one that holds us together. Malice, he’s the extra baggage that came with our long-time friend. He kind of grew on us, like herpes. Sometimes people forget it’s there and then boom! It just pops up out of nowhere, reminding us he never left just, slumbering temporarily. That’s what Malice is. That little bugger just keeps popping up and we can’t get rid of him. On the other hand, he’s helpful, more times than he’s not. He can stomach the part of our job that Saint could never do.

He seemed … sweaty, I think he’s doing something. And not just the nurse. He might be a problem, let Crew know.

Got it, I’ll look into it.

Wait, why can’t you let Crew know?

Before I go into more detail, a small body bounces off of me, and my arms automatically shoot out. “Watch where the fuck you’re going.” I growl. Taking my agitation with Brian’s slippery self out on whatever unsuspecting soul has crossed my path.

My arm wraps around a tiny waist. The other steadying her to keep her from tipping over. A whiff of something floral and clean with a hint of coconut. Summer.

“Whoa, there. Are you okay?” When I realize who it is, I switch my tune to mock concern. Wide, bright, teal-colored eyes with green near the iris stare up at me.

“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry,” Priya sputters.

My hand travels up to finger a piece of curled chestnut colored hair. Her body tenses at the contact. The pulse point in her neck is fluttering, affected by our proximity. Her hair is like silk. The feeling is pleasant, almost comforting. She’s a tiny thing. I tower over her by almost a foot. I contemplate on how to play this. Being sweet would reel her in faster or I could off the bat be an asshole. The former would work better in the long run.

“Where are you headed to in such a rush?” Crew set up her meeting with Brian. I’m just here to play a part.

“I have a meeting with the headmaster. I’m running late.” She answers shyly. Refraining from rolling my eyes at Brian’s self-appointed title of “headmaster” because it sounds more opulent to him. Instead, I focus on her. Freckles dot her nose and cheeks, her full, pouty lips pull down into a frown. She has an ethereal beauty that reminds me of innocence and purity. Like an angel.

But even Eve sinned for Satan.

My thumb makes circles on the small of her back, attempting to entice her.

My next move usually does the trick. I give a half smile, enough to where my only dimple on the left side shows and look at her lips before moving in a little to close the distance. She licks her lips and gently clears her throat before anger enters her delicate features.

“You can let go now. Thank you…” Asking for a name without asking. Taken aback by her request, I give a rough tug on the strand of hair I have wrapped around my finger when I really just want to wrap my fist around it, then carefully release her and take a step back. I can still save this.

“I’m Bennett Demonio.” Her eyebrows raise.

“That makes sense.”

My brows furrow confused, “What does?”

“The fact you think your charm or your looks would get me to do anything other than thank you.” She finishes with a scoff. I can confidently say I’ve never been turned down, regardless of single or not, young or old. I’m easily able to manipulate people into doing what I want, mimic who they need me to be.

Challenge accepted.

Giving my million-dollar smile that’s gotten me far and move out of her way with my arm out like a grand gesture.

She brushes past me. “Your girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate that.” She mutters under her breath. I let out a little of the hatred I have for her show through my eyes. She wants me to be an asshole.

“I’d be careful who you run into. Everyone is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. It’d be a shame to see you broken so soon,” I murmur as I walk towards my one true love, Mindy.