The Devil I Hate (Devil's Knights 1)
Aiden pulled up the hood on his blue sweatshirt, his back to me. He raised his hand to his ear. Mumbled words I couldn’t make out over the crashing water below. He stood at the spot where I had kissed Luca for the first time. Too close to the edge.
“Aiden,” I called out. “Please. You don’t have to do this.”
He shoved a hand in his pocket and spun around. Our eyes met, but someone else stared back at me. This version of Aiden gave me the same glare as the cold, ruthless men he had become. Like Luca and his brothers.
“I’m sorry, Lexie.” His words sounded pained as if it were killing him to leave. “I don’t have a choice.”
I stepped forward, tears falling from my eyes, sliding down my cheeks.
“We always have a choice.”
“If you didn’t have to marry Luca, you wouldn’t be here.”
He was right, so I didn’t bother to correct him.
“Stay,” I pleaded. “For me.”
He shook his head, and his curls dropped in front of his eyes. We were identical in every way, from our high cheekbones to the fullness of our lips and our unruly curly hair. But my brother looked as if he’d aged ten years since he met The Serpents.
I needed my twin brother, not the man he was transforming into before my eyes. How could he save me from the thing he was becoming?
“I can’t do this, Aiden,” I sobbed. “This is killing me. I need you.”
He inched backward toward the edge of the cliff. “It’s the way it has to be, Lexie.”
“No,” I choked out. “There’s another way.”
“You want to believe that.” He took another step backward, so close to the edge. “But this is it. Just let me go. It’s best for all of us.”
“Never.” My chest constricted as I spoke, the word a whisper on my lips. “You’re a part of me. I’m a part of you.” I stretched my hand out and wiggled my fingers. “Come with me, Aid. Please.”
His hand flew out in search of mine. Our fingers brushed, and his skin was rough and callused, hardened by the cruelty of our new world. As I pulled him closer, he lost his footing, stumbled…
When my eyes snapped open, fear flooded my veins, a bitter chill washed over me like breaking waves, and when I looked down, I screamed in horror.
I rode through The Hills, thankful I could afford to rent a house in this part of Devil’s Creek. Arlo had insisted I live in town so that we could get started on the Franco Foundation project. He had convinced the Carpenters to rent their house to Aiden and me for next to nothing. They lived abroad most of the year, which gave us time to find a permanent location.
With the top down on my convertible, the wind blew through my hair as I drove up the steep incline and pulled into our new driveway. After my art show sold out, I received a phone call from Arlo’s assistant. Two days later, we packed our bags and left our asshole parents behind.
“Home sweet home,” Aiden howled as he climbed out of the car and raced to the trunk to grab our bags.
My brother leaned over the open window and grabbed the key from the cup holder, and glanced up at the Colonial-style home with a smile. “This place is perfect.”
I returned his smile. “We’re finally free, Aid.”
Aiden jammed the key into the lock and pushed the front door open. We stumbled into a large foyer, the floors solid wood throughout, with a long staircase about ten feet in front of us. There was a massive living room with a U-shaped leather couch with an ottoman table, and a huge flat-screen television hung on the wall to our left.
The ceilings were high, the archways rounded. We veered toward the right and entered a room with a long oak bar, comfy couches, and old-school arcade games.
“Get the fuck out of here.” Aiden dropped his bags on the floor and strolled over to the pinball machine. “Lexie, we have the original Pac-Man. Look, you don’t even need quarters to play. Shit, this is awesome.”
“There’s an art studio in the back of the house, near the pool.”
His face lit up with childlike excitement. “Salvatore hooked us up big time.”
“Arlo insisted we come over tonight for dinner. Thank him in person.”
He gritted his teeth. “Will Luca be there?”
“Who knows? I haven’t talked to him since my art exhibition.”
“I hate how much you like him.”
“I don’t,” I said without hesitation.
“C’mon, Lexie. I was born a minute and a half after you, not yesterday. You can lie to Luca and yourself. But I know you have a thing for him. I saw you holding his hand at the gallery.”
“I was nervous,” I said in my defense. “He comforted me.”