Touched By The Devil (Boys of Preston Prep 3)

I take one last look at the bed, at the smooth quilt and the straightened pillow, and think about the knife Sugar told me she started sleeping with under her pillow. When she’d threatened me with it, I didn’t really understand why she needed to carry it, but after meeting Doug? I get it. He’s just another Heston. The only way out from under their thumb is to fight your way out—or fucking chop it off.

I thought Sugar came to Preston to get a jump on her education and to expand her opportunities in photography. She was actually just escaping. Unfortunately, she was doomed before she ever stepped foot on campus. We’d already crossed paths. I’d already marked her. As long as she has me in her life, there’s no escaping the violence. I’m just another part of the never-ending cycle of abuse and dysfunction. She deserves better. She deserves that little bit of fucking peace she’s so willing to throw herself on the line to get.

I should feel good about it—or at least as good as losing her could ever feel. There isn’t a better way this could have ended. I can’t be there to protect her, but I’ve severed a tie here. I’ve made it better by making it worse. Hopefully one day, she’ll see that.

I’ll be long gone by then.

28

Sugar

The drive back to Preston is tense.

Memories of my mom keep rushing up like my mind is trying to saw the cut a little deeper. They’re not good memories. There are no cute, sweet moments where she took care of me, or comforted me, or taught me something new. I know some of those memories exist, but they’re long ago, from before, and they’re buried beneath the others. Her wincing silence as the back of Doug’s hand met my cheek. Her disappearing into another room when he had me by the

hair, snarling obscenities at me. The way she’d turn to avoid watching him kick me in the stomach.

She didn’t like that he hurt me.

She just didn’t care enough to stop it.

The longer I think about it, Sebastian oppressively quiet at my side, the more I know that was the real reason the thought of coming back here made me sick. I’m scared of Doug, sure. But in a way, I’m also not. He’s sadistic and cruel, but there’s a simplicity to that. He can hurt my body, but it’ll never go past the surface.

Not like my own mother.

I’m broken out of the thought by the sound of Sebastian’s phone going off.

Again.

It’s been chiming with texts during the entire car ride, but all he does is jerk an aggressive glance down to it in the console every now and then. Since I can’t avoid doing the same, I know it’s his brother. His name keeps popping up on the lock screen, various nonsensical messages appearing below, the meaning of them broken by the way I miss the ones in between. He’s apparently one of those people who only texts in single sentences.

Winter transfer. Interesting…

Oh no, poor dad…

I’m thinking Ormewood Park…

Scholarship too! Bro, those can be fussy…

Really great tits, I’m excited…

“Look at me,” Sebastian says, grabbing my attention away from the screen. I do it because it’s the first thing he’s said since he asked me to buckle up. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

I look away. “I don’t have a concussion.”

He doesn’t lower his hand. “It was a hard hit, Sugar. Just tell me how many fingers.”

Annoyed, I cut my eyes at his hand. “Three.” And then I hold up my own. “You?”

He is the one with a history of concussions, after all.

“I’m fine,” he says, even though his eye is swelling. I’d only asked once if I should drive, but he wouldn’t let me. Nevertheless, he grunts out, “Two fingers.”

At least there’s that.

That doesn’t mean I’m not pissed at him, too. “I can’t believe you did that,” I say, trying to fill some of the silence. His complete stillness since getting in the car has been more unnerving than the fight itself.

“No?” he asks, jaw clenching. “What did I say that day at Merle’s? I said if I ever found out, I’d kill him. You knew exactly what you were getting with me. Don’t act like you expected me to do nothing, because I might have been sent into that bullshit blind, but I know better now.”