Deception. Betrayal. Mistrust.
It seems the closer Rayne gets to the truth, the more she finds herself wanting to run away from it. It's complex and terrifying-more than she ever fathomed.
New family members, good and bad, pop out at her like a br...
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𝗥ayne breathed heavily as she stared at the drops of red between her splayed fingers. She could feel her breath escaping her lungs dangerously sharp as she did her best to regain her focus and to not fall victim to a dizzying development.
The hit from Evelyn left her with a dazed frontal expression and a lack of awareness. All she knew was that the sprinklers were still at full blast, drenching her to her freezing core, and that her head was out of sorts. The blood that traveled down the roots of her skin and spilled off her nose, splattering to the ground below her was the only thing that kept her somewhat leveled.
Get up.
Move.
Finish what you started.
She could hear the sounds of her enemy—her brother—approaching her at an alarmingly quick pace, but none of her self-motivations were helping her body find its way back to itself. No matter how many times she told herself that her weak indiscretion was only going to get her killed, all she could muster was a tiny shake of the hand. An inch or so of movement.
It felt as if the injury to her head caused a chain-reaction—like the bones of her skull were caving in on the softness of her brain, crushing her motor skills first, just to come back with a second wave of nausea, dysfunction, and loss of speech, hindering her to this cowered spot on the floor.
He's coming, Rayne.
He's going to kill you.
Ignoring the throbbing pain in her head, she let out a grunt of exertion as she pushed against the ground and forced her head up, now staring at the person in front of her. Still based on her knees, supported by her bent shoes, her glare turned from desperate to menacing.
Enzo's face was somehow warped into something of consideration—as if he didn't spend the last several months seeping into her close friends, just to pull the rug out from underneath her feet when she was least expecting it. As if he didn't take away her twin brother and her niece—as if his hands weren't the same ones that had killed the love of her life's stepmother.
Staring at it now, the same pit in her stomach formed. There was so much audacity lining the craters in his skin, lining the smile lines on his cheeks and the worried ones on his forehead. All she thought as he edged closer and offered a hand to her were the times he made her feel crazy, the times he unleashed the psychopath inside of him on her—the times when he begged to be a family just to spin on his opposite heel and give her actions that showcased the other side of those same syllables.
She hated that no matter how hard she tried, how hard she fought against the feeling inside of her—against the blood that ran alike in their veins—that she would always love him. That no matter how many crimes he committed against the ones she loved, a part of her would always want him at her side.
She resented him for it.
She wanted to kill him for it—she wanted to alleviate her mind and erase the notion that Enzo understood everything she endured as a kid. She wanted to forget that he was just like her—on the polar side of the same fucking coin.
