Deviant

Chapter 3

Rowen

When I turn around, I find Elias donned from head to toe in his preferred black attire, lounging in one of the porch chairs with his legs sprawled out in front of him, crossed at the ankles on the coffee table.

And just like that, I can breathe easy again.

“I… um… didn’t see you there,” I say weakly in the form of a greeting.

With his dark eyes set on me, he doesn’t say a word in reply, preferring to place his cigarette in between his lush, full lips and take a long-ass drag. My heart rate accelerates just a fraction as his penetrating glare continues to stare right through me while he expels puffs of grey smoke into the air, polluting its quality with its wondrous carcinogenic toxins.

Though Elias refuses to utter even a syllable, limiting himself to just staring at me, it’s the little tick in his jaw that tells me he’s annoyed by my presence.

Nothing new there.

I’ve been a constant fixture at the Larsen home since infancy, yet one person has never made any effort to make me feel at home here.

And that has always been Elias.

I understood it at first… his blatant annoyance toward me.

And though I found his foreboding persona oddly intriguing, I always kept a wide berth between us whenever possible.

Not that it was too difficult a thing to do.

After all, he was five years older than Nora and I and had very little patience for the childish games his younger sister and I got up to when we were young. As the years passed and we became teenagers, the fact that I started dating his younger brother, Aidan, didn’t win me any brownie points either.

For as long as I’ve known them, Elias and Aidan have always seemed to be at each other’s throats about one thing or another. Now that I was romantically linked to the bane of his existence, his distaste and irritation for me grew.

But lately, I’ve felt his previous animosity toward me has changed into outright hate since Nora’s death.

I can see it so clearly in his eyes.

How they burn with loathsomeness.

The abhorrence in his dark, blackish-blue orbs.

It’s like his gaze can’t hide how he blames me for Nora’s death.

Which he should.

They all should.

Yet, Elias is the only person who never bought the coroner’s report of how his little sister died or how the sheriff’s department ruled her death as an accidental suicide by overdose.

He didn’t buy it for a minute.

That alone made me like Elias even more.

He knew Nora would have never killed herself, let alone to drugs.

Not in a million years.

It saddened me how Aidan and her mom were so quick to accept it, though.

It’s like they didn’t even know her.

Not really.

Not like I did.

Not like Elias did.

And because he knew her so well, he also knew exactly where to place the blame for her untimely death.

It’s there… the truth of my greatest sin… glaring back at me in his black stare.

His hate strangely comforting.

I know it shouldn’t be, but it is.

Anyone else in my predicament would probably run in the other direction whenever Elias got close or risk having such an ugly secret revealed.

But I don’t run.

I never run.

These rare moments are the only ones I’ve been living for lately.

It’s soothing knowing there is at least one person in this world who hates me for what I’ve done, even if they don’t know the specifics.

I stand ramrod straight as Elias continues to stare at me while smoking his cigarette down to the filter, knowing that his probing glower is enough to make anyone feel uneasy.

But not me.

He can look at me like that all night.

Burden me with your hate. I fucking deserve it.

“It’s a nice night out tonight,” I say in an attempt to get a reaction from him.

I just need to stay in his presence for just another minute.

Just a minute to feel all that hate poison my bloodstream.

Oh, if only his hate was enough to completely do me in.

“Don’t you think?” I add while leaning against the porch rail, crossing my arms over my chest, daring him to reply.

“For a midnight swim, maybe,” he says with a nefarious smirk.

My brows pull together in confusion. I have no idea why his first thought would be to take a swim this late at night. The summer is officially over, and the water’s temperature has dropped drastically.

“I guess.” I shrug at the baffling remark while maintaining eye contact with him.

The ominous glint in his eyes disappears when he sees I didn’t get the gist of whatever ill-regard joke he was trying to make.

“Don’t you have somewhere to go?” he asks with that all-too-familiar irritated hint in his tone.

My deep-rooted frown is immediate when I realize that he’s trying to get me out of his sight when I crave nothing more than to stay in his.

“I can stay a little longer,” I suggest with a daring grin. “I mean, why would anyone want to end such a tantalizing conversation so abruptly?”

His nostrils flare at my uncharacteristic outburst, his hatred easing the knot in my chest like a soothing balm to my corrupt soul.

I’m usually not one for quick banter or sass.

That was Nora’s department of expertise.

She always had a sharp tongue, whereas I learned early on to keep mine sweet.

But Elias’s contempt has this weird aphrodisiac effect on me.

It’s like I’d love nothing more than to push his buttons just to get a rise out of him.

I mean, poke a bear enough times, and he’s sure to retaliate.

Right?

My skin heats up just imagining all the ways Elias might exact his retribution for my defiant tongue, given half the chance.

Maybe if I play my cards right, he might give me exactly what I want.

Death at the hands of someone who actually loved Nora like I did would be a merciful gift.

A girl can only hope.

I’m still wracking my brain with other ways to rile him up when he takes one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out on the ashtray in front of him.

My breath catches in my throat when, ever so leisurely, he stands up from his seat and takes three long strides toward me. He gets so close that I have no choice but to lean further back onto the rail, my hands holding onto it behind my back, just to keep from falling.

“Tell me, Rowen?” he murmurs softly, his voice holding onto its sinister taint as his iridescent midnight-blue stare holds my complete attention captive. “Is my asshole brother that bad of a fuck that you’re so hard up you want to jump on my cock next? ‘Cause I don’t do sloppy seconds. Especially when it comes to his leftovers.”

My eyes widen incredulously at the nasty insult.

Elias has never spoken to me in such a way before.

So crude.

So blatantly disrespectful.

But to my shame—now that he’s planted such a lurid idea in my head—the vile fantasy ends up taking root, and all of a sudden, I find myself imagining being properly fucked by someone who hates me… someone who knows how rotten I am on the inside and wouldn’t think twice about punishing me for it.

And for it to have been Elias, of all people, to provoke such an unwanted, visceral reaction out of me has my skin breaking out in goosebumps with the delicious, unwelcome shiver that ends up slithering down my spine, making me ashamedly wet on the spot.

Trying to hide how his remark hit more than just a nerve, I place my hands on his taut chest and push him away from me with all my might.

“That was completely uncalled for,” I reprimand with a stern expression stitched to my face, ignoring how the pulse in my clit is suddenly throbbing.

“Was it?” He lets out a wolfish grin before taking another step back.

“Yes. It was,” I rebuke in fake outrage. “What if Aidan had heard you say such a thing? If you can’t pretend to have any respect for me, then at least have the decency to show some to your brother by keeping comments like that to yourself.”

The amused cackle he lets out has me fuming, eviscerating the momentary yearning my body ignited with so unexpectedly.

“The day I respect either one of you, hell would have frozen over.”

“Wow. You really are an asshole, aren’t you?”

“And what are you, Rowen?” he asks, far too poignantly. “What pray-fucking-tell are you?”

A killer.

A murderer.

A monster.

I school my expression to look just as annoyed as his, but deep down, I know he already has the answer to that loaded question.

“Not your problem,” I say at last. “That’s who the fuck I am.”

He scoffs, eyeing me up and down suspiciously.

“We’ll see how the night plays out if that ends up being true or not.”

Confused by his cryptic remark, I decide I’ve had enough of Elias’s brand of torment for one night, so without so much as a ‘Go fuck yourself,’ I turn my back to him, walk down the two small steps off his porch, and rush to my car.

Once I’m safely tucked inside, my hands tremble so much that it takes me a few tries to insert the key into the ignition.

“Get a hold of yourself, Rowen. Snap out of it already,” I scold through gritted teeth.

I let out a sigh of relief when I finally get the engine to start, but just as I’m backing out of the Larsen driveway and briefly glance up at the rear-view mirror, I find Elias still standing on his porch, attentively watching my every move with that damned sardonic grin of his that makes him look both lethally dangerous and enigmatically irresistible.

A man that toxic shouldn’t wear it so well.

There should be a warning sign—cautioning to stay clear—hanging around his neck instead of that smile that promises all sorts of devilish delights.

Argh.

Pissed for allowing myself to be rattled in such a way—considering that the initial idea was for me to rile him up for my own personal benefit—I drive off toward the police station in town, knowing full well that I still have another two hours to burn before midnight when my father’s shift ends.

It’s a nice night out for a midnight swim.

As I stop at the red light on the crossroad, Elias’s left-field suggestion comes back to me in full throttle. When the light turns green, I make a left on mere instinct and head over to Grove Bridge instead.

If only he knew that I’d been trying to go for a swim for the better part of the year now.

If he did, maybe he wouldn’t have been so callous to suggest such a thing.

Or maybe he would have anyway.

Maybe he’d love nothing more for me to take a long walk off a short pier.

Well, that makes two of us, asshole.

Thankfully, when I arrive at Grove Bridge, Elias is no longer front and center in my mind.

There wouldn’t be any room for him here anyway.

Here, in this sacred place, only Nora holds reign over me.

And like I’ve done for the past three hundred and forty-six days, I step out of my car and go through the motions of reuniting with her again.

It’s like I’m sleepwalking through my own life when I’m up here.

It’s like this body is mine… but it isn’t.

It has a mind of its own, doing what it wants and how it wants it, uncaring of how I feel or wish it would behave.

Here, on this bridge, my actions are not just my own.

They are Nora’s, too.

Memories begin to assault me with each step I take, recalling all the times when Nora and I would sneak off to this very bridge at night and talk about all our plans for the future, fully knowing such a future might not ever be in the cards for us.

That’s the thing about living in Blackwater Falls—you can’t ever make plans. Not real ones, at least. Because you never know if your name will be chosen come harvest season, and all those plans will wither in dust, just like our bones will after The Scourge has its way with us.

Still, there was a time in our lives when we were young and naive enough to play make-believe and pretend that we were both going to find a way out of this place and live somewhere where death could never touch us so easily.

I had no idea that, during our talks, Nora would, in fact, devise a plan to attempt just that—one that would get her and her family out of this cesspool once and for all.

A plan that, to my frightened ears, would undoubtedly steal her away from me, never to return.

So what did I do?

What did my fear… my lack of faith, contribute to her great escape plan?

I opted for a different route and ensured she could never leave me.

That she would rot in this godforsaken place just like my bones will someday.

Buried six feet under in a cemetery behind Hollow’s Church, all my best friend can do now is lay in wait, watching my own life wither away.

Yeah.

With a friend like me, who needs fucking enemies?

Grief-stricken, I walk over to the middle of the bridge to our spot, going to my haunches to softly caress the small patch of steel where we scraped our names with one of Elias’s pocket knives.

Nora + Rowen = Best Friends 4 Ever

We were just ten years old when we decided to memorialize our friendship with this carving.

So naively innocent.

So fucking trusting and hopeful.

But even at that tender age, I knew hope was a silent killer—a deadly poison that could easily corrupt those most suggestive to it and bring its own special kind of cruel torment.

Nora always had an abundance of hope.

I, on the other hand, never did.

Hope was a luxury stolen from me very early on in my life. Even now, the scars of that trauma are still fresh enough to be cautious of such an optimistic, vain sentiment.

Maybe that’s the real reason why I did it.

Why I killed my best friend.

Because her hope scared me.

Her willingness to battle through something so horrendous caused me more fear than anything I had ever experienced before in my lifetime, which is in itself problematic since I already had my fair share of heartache.

But now that I have no one to siphon that hope from, despair is all I’m left with.

That and my cowardice.

I’ve grown sick and tired of my spineless nature and weakness calling all the shots in my life.

It’s time I did something brave.

Something right.

Something just.

Without further hesitancy, I stand back up, allowing the cold wind to nip at my cheeks, and let myself believe that tonight is the night I’ll see my best friend’s face again.

“Nora,” I sob softly. “I’m sorry. Please… forgive me.”

My apology and remorse have become my own personal mantra.

I say the exact same words every night before forcing my legs to go over the bridge’s rail, stepping onto the ledge while encouragingly telling myself that all I need is to jump off this goddamned bridge to make things right.

A life for a life.

I stole hers.

It’s only fair I give her mine.

My fingers run through our carved names again before I hold onto the rail and look down at the flowing lake beneath me. I take a fortifying breath before gaining the courage to straddle the rail and place both heels of my chucks on the tiny ledge.

Tonight, I’ll do it.

Tonight, I’ll give my best friend the justice she deserves.

I close my eyes and repeat my apology once more while inwardly praying that Nora is here with me, listening to the words I professed that godawful night to her.

“Nora, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please… please forgive me.”

The wind responds in kind—cold and blistering to my tender flesh.

I let out an exhale and pry my eyelids open.

Up high like this, one could almost mistake themselves for having the ability to fly.

But I won’t fly.

I’ll fall.

Fall until my body breaks against rock and ice water below. Either drowned or broken, they would find my lifeless body floating ashore on Silverstone Lake tomorrow by dawn.

My father will be crushed, but he’ll understand and remain quiet through all of it as the town questions him on why I would go to such lengths to end my life.

Lord knows he’s been carrying the same guilt I have for far too long. My death will give him the release he aches for as well.

“See, Nora? This is what I have to do. For all our sakes,” I think to myself, content that everything will return to its proper order if I take this leap.

But just as I raise my foot off the ledge, ready to take that midnight swim Elias taunted me with earlier, I hear her voice.

“Stop.”

“Don’t do this.”

Tears well in my eyes as I hear Nora’s voice as crystal clear as the rush of water down below my feet.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“It was a mistake.”

“You didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“So please… don’t do this, Roe.”

“Live.”

“For me.”

“You owe me that much.”

“I can’t,” I blurt out with unmistakable pain edged to my voice. “I can’t do life without you. I won’t.”

“You can and you will.”

“For me, Roe. For me.”

A loud scream rips from my chest and throat, hating that she won’t give me this.

Not even in death.

I long to die, and somehow, she’s found a way to deny me this relief.

It’s punishment.

Punishment for what you’ve done.

You don’t deserve a quick death.

You deserve misery and anguish.

I tell myself this as I bring my foot onto the ledge and lean back against the rail. My tears blind me as I pull myself over the rail and back onto solid ground, my whole body falling to the ground with a scraping thud.

“I just want it over with. Just… let me go,” I plead, craving her mercy more than anything else in this world.

But Nora is no longer here to torment me with a reply. Only the howling wind keeps me company now.

I pull my knees under my chin, hugging them to my chest as I cry my frustration and agony away.

There must be a way to get what I want and still appease her.

There must be.

I just have to think of one.

Think of a way where the punishment fits the crime.

She won’t be able to deny me that.

The practical, analytical part of my brain tells me that subconsciously, I’m the one talking myself off the ledge to ensure my continued existence. That the voice I hear is my own and not Nora’s. But that part of my brain is no match for the misery that has darkened my soul.

I revoked all common sense and survival instincts the night Nora died in my arms.

Still, I need to prepare for the inevitable.

Her voice will become a faint memory soon enough, and before that happens, justice needs to prevail.

I don’t care how it happens, just that it does.

And no ghosts or pesky subconscious survival instincts will keep me from my goal.

I’ll find a way to end this.

I’ll find a way.

I have to.

I need to.

Sooner rather than later if I have anything to say about it.

Nora will get her due justice.

And I will have my penance.

And hopefully… finally… absolution.