Deceit (Gallows Hill #1)

27. Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Six

Vincent

H er silky blonde hair falls at her sides as she runs her fingers through it. She’s walking through the courtyard with Bartlett as always. They are discussing something that forces my Siren to toss her head back and laugh, that melodic sound running through my entire body. As usual, I’m ten steps behind her and even more usual, she has no idea.

I don’t know what it was about her that caught my eye. It could have been those wildly bright green eyes, her porcelain doll-like face or her curves that make me want to sink my teeth into every single inch of her. Or it could be something deeper, more poetic, like my soul recognizing hers and demanding I claim her.

It wasn’t an accident that I happened to stumble upon her in the cemetery, when Putnam pushed her into that hole. I overheard her promising Walcott that she would go to the bonfire, so I followed them to the party. I paid even closer attention to her when Bartlett fucked off to get laid, leaving her vulnerable and for the taking.

Of course, I had to follow her when I saw where she was being led. When I watched Putnam lay his hands on her, I wanted to gut him right then and there, bury him right beside all the scorned bodies rotting in the earth beneath our feet. I didn’t though, I sat back, and I watched. Observed.

I watched on as she screamed and begged. I saw how, for a moment, Walcott almost defied his future leader before heeling like the good little bitch he is. I studied how she panicked and fought, trying everything she could think of. I’ll be honest, I was disappointed she gave up so quickly. I thought she had more of a fighting spirit. Then again, my Siren doesn’t belong on land, she belongs in the water, right alongside me.

Meeting her came at an unexpected time, and I’ve all but abandoned my prior goals and duties, even to the Brethren, to keep my eyes on her. Hence, why this stalker situation is so frustrating.

I can’t blame her for assuming that I was the one stalking her, in her defense, I am. Just not in the noticeable way that makes her afraid and fearful of her safety, which she should be. From what she has told me, I anticipate their efforts will only increase. Which means I don’t have long to figure out who it is and eliminate them from the equation. Hopefully I can utilize the skills the Brethren so graciously gifted me, to finish the task as quickly and efficiently as possible.

It's already been a week since the dead man walking broke into my Siren’s room and violated her privacy. One week, since he officially signed his death certificate and one week of me going down the list to figure out who the fuck it is. I have a few leads to look into this afternoon, a few guys from the football team that were discussing her in the locker room the other day. It could be nothing, but it could be everything and there is only one way for me to find out.

For a moment, I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts that I almost miss him. Almost miss when a hand darts out from the wall of thick boxwood bushes and latches onto her arm, dragging her into the covered hide away. My steps quicken and I’m about to reach for my gun tucked in the back of my pants when my footsteps freeze, and a familiar voice hits my ears.

“I missed you, baby,” Coach Ronan says, followed by the sound of kissing.

My lip curls up at that, anger pulsing through my body at the thought of him touching her, kissing her. Doesn’t everyone understand that she is clearly mine? She’s not ready for me yet but she will be, soon, and when she is, I’ll hack off every limb belonging to anyone that’s ever touched her.

Stepping away, I find a causal spot to the side of the bushes to lean against the wall, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it between my lips while I listen.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asks.

“Nothing, why?” my Siren responds.

“I want to spend some time with you, away from here. Do you want to come to my place tonight?”

“Oh, sure. Of course! When?”

“Now,” he says, before their feet shuffle slightly.

“Is it safe? You know, you said we had to be careful when we’re seen together and—”

“Why do you think we’re talking in the bushes, baby?” he chuckles softly, a giggle coming from her that has my eyes rolling.

“I’ve taken care of everything. It’s safe. Meet me in the south parking lot in ten minutes, yeah?”

“Okay,” she says, a soft mewling sound escaping her that I can only assume is from him kissing what’s mine. Again.

I take another drag, allowing the nicotine to fill my lungs before breathing out the puff of smoke. In the next moment, Ronan emerges, casually walking towards the staff parking lot as if he wasn’t pulling students into the bushes to plan a secret rendezvous. I knew leaving a tip for the headmaster, that Coach Ronan wasn’t behaving appropriately with some intended students wouldn’t do much. He’s a Putnam after all, but I figured it would make him be a little more discreet, so I didn’t have to see him blatantly touch her in broad daylight. Seems to have worked, after their little chat the other day.

Ronan is an idiot. I don’t give a fuck how bad he wants her, how bad he craves her. Every time he touches her, looks at her for too long or makes plans to take her off campus, he puts her life in danger. Either he doesn’t give a fuck about her life or he’s just reckless with it. Either way, he’s a danger to her and a threat to me.

Wanting her is not an excuse. If it was, I’d have taken her for myself the very first night, Asher Putnam be damned. I would have placed a bullet right between the piece of shit’s eyes the first day he spoke disrespectfully to her, and whisked her away where even the Brethren could never find us. Fortunately for her, and him I suppose, I have more self-control than that. I know better than to give in to my desires, my cravings and I do a fine fucking job of putting on a show.

For all my Siren knows, I practically despise her. She no doubt assumes that I couldn’t care less about her or her wellbeing. As if I wasn’t ready to burn the world around us to a crisp, so she wouldn’t be burdened with having to deal with another living person apart from me. As if I’m not prepared to beat, gut and kill anyone who breathes in her direction. I’ve already made a list and believe me, when the moment is right I’ll begin working down that list. Starting with Asher fucking Putnam.

My phone buzzes in my pocket as my Siren emerges from the bushes, brushing her hair down so it doesn’t look like her fiancé’s uncle was just mauling her on the other side of this foliage. I let her get far enough ahead of me before I pull it out, a sour feeling settling in my stomach when I read the message.

Unknown: 1247 Carey Dr Cambridge, MA. 51(M). Self-care.

The messages come from burner phones to burner phones. I get a new one each week and it’s never been clear to me which members send out the requests. I only know who sanctions them, and of course he’s the same son of a bitch who sanctions everything in this wicked fucking world we’re trapped in.

When the messages come through, they are intended to be vague for obvious reasons. An address, age and identified gender along with the task. Some of the tasks are as simple as a little rough up, what they code as playtime. Others are, a quick in and out kill, like ‘one and done’. Then, there are more detailed requests like this one. It’s not enough for me to take care of them, I have to make it look like a suicide, which honestly isn’t as hard as it sounds.

Most of the Legacies haven’t assumed their position yet. That part usually comes after graduation. Due to the lack of eliminators we currently have though, I was inducted early. I still am kept in the dark about most things, just like the other Legacies and I don’t have my ring or privileges yet as an official Elder. Yet, I’m still required to perform the duties of such.

Similar to rushing into a fraternity, before you can join, you must prove your dedication and worthiness. So far I’ve yet to disappoint, and will continue that way until it suits me otherwise.

Looks like I’ll have a late night tonight. I don't like knowing that Skyla will be away from campus for an extended period without me there to keep an eye on her. Ronan better keep her from harm, or I’ll be disposing of two bodies tonight.