Die by my hands

REMINGTON

Does he love my mother? Or is this some actual arranged-marriage bullshit again? Or was he simply here because he was coerced into it by his, of course, tyrant twisted-minded son?

“She’s in safe hands, Dad. I’ll have him checked into all his classes. Remi’s in very good hands,” Soren spoke, smiling wider — his golden retriever mask pulled on for our parents to see.

“Thank you, Soren. I just had to be certain you had his back. So kids, there won’t be a honeymoon — there’s a business meeting for Clark and I tonight. We might be home late or take up a hotel,” Mom explained, running her fingers through my hair with a smile. She loved me. But I couldn’t stomach the thought of what she had done to me.

“Bye, Clark,” I greeted. He hummed a goodbye with a sincere smile as I shut the door. I could hear other voices and Soren opening a door as well; soft footsteps pattered behind me. I’d refused breakfast because, God help me, I’d already been damned before I sat a few inches away from a boy who had dug a knife into my thighs — a boy whose life I fucking ruined.

“Having fun?” I asked, stopping to shake it off. I didn’t know whose idea it was for me to have transferred schools, but I’d bet my life Soren had something to do with it judging by how he flaunted his smirk.

“Fun? You think this is fun?” he asked, leaning closer as I staggered backward, eyes now locked on mine, everyone staring maliciously. I couldn’t handle it anymore, so I broke the gaze first and pushed on my feet.

“Have the real fun sitting in here. You acted all high and mighty in Draycott. Well, sin-doll, this isn’t Draycott — this is my fucking turf and you are in it now.” He hadn’t spoken another word and just stormed past me. Of course I knew his promises of keeping me in “good hands” were nothing but vile lies.

Why the fuck had I even let it happen? The only good hands for him would be the ones wrapped around my throat and dragging me to death. My heart sank, realizing everyone had begun their usual gossip routine.

Ignoring them as best as I could, I tried asking for directions, but each person ignored my questions, walked all over me, shoved me sideways, passing cold stares. I had no idea what I had done wrong, but for fuck’s sake I didn’t know it would be this bad. Frustrated, I found my way to the restroom, shutting the door and letting out an exhausted sigh. I needed to go back home, make things back the way they were. This wasn’t going to work. I wasn’t cut out for this shift.

“Remi?” a masculine voice called my name. My heart slammed faster in my ribs as I flung the door open. Why was a man—

Oh no. Fuck no. Fuck.

My eyes darted down from the view around and then to the man before me.

“Raphael… And you’re Remi? Soren’s new brother?” Raphael asked, grinning, arms still crossed over his chest. Raphael played alongside the team; I’d seen him in lots of pictures with Soren. Of course I’d recognized him from my stalking days.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t— I wasn’t looking. I must have gotten too distracted when it came to the men’s restroom. I… good lord, I’m not such a loser or a nerd, I’m just anxious,” I apologized. Raphael laughed; his sound was true as he smiled back at me, linking his arm through mine.

“It’s fine. Your brother might be cold-hearted, but he had muttered something about you not knowing anywhere and your stupid ass was gonna get lost. I took that as a cue; he wanted me to fetch you,” Raphael explained. But oh—only if he knew Soren, the liar, the manipulative bastard, the sick, exotic man Soren is. I bet he didn’t mean it like that. Poor Raphael must have misunderstood. Or was this how easily everyone fell for Soren’s tricks? Were they so oblivious? I mean, if I hadn’t seen him grovelling on his knees once—if I hadn’t seen a cuff and knife hanging on his fingers—I’d probably believe handsome Soren was sweet.

“Need help? Registering for classes must have been ordered by your stepfather; he’s kind of a big shot, but I’ll walk you to your class,” Raphael offered.

The silence between us felt short but peaceful as we both walked. He was calm, lovely, unlike fucking Soren. Raphael alongside his elder brother Maddox; they were both Soren’s best friends. Except Raphael had always been the calmer one, and now that I was up close I could see… he was really handsome. Not hot like Soren, but up there as well.

“I’ll let you have my number; that way you’ll text me if you need anything. And if you don’t, I’ll text you myself, Remi. I have your number anyway,” he offered with a charming smile and a wink, blowing a kiss before turning away. A smile tugged at my lips as I pushed my way through the door, my heart thumping. I hadn’t had a crush on any guy in years; the first and only was Soren. Was it a bad thing that his friend had my mind racing like this?

The day went by fast; lots of introductions were made. The class seemed to ignore me, although once or twice I heard low whispers about Raphael walking me to class — apparently he’s a big shot, and true to his words he texted me, even walked me to the garage to find my cocky stepbrother.

“Party? Later this weekend? A date in a restaurant? Which sounds more comforting to you, Remi?” Raphael asked as we waited by the door for Soren. My mind bloomed. Raphael had a way with words; his charm hung in full force. Or was I just baiting him so I could laugh in Soren’s face?

“I don’t know… I don’t want any trouble with Soren and—” I started.

“What trouble?” the devil asked, stepping up to us, a frown on his face. His eyes dropped between Raphael and me. He clearly didn’t seem pleased by it, and it only stoked the fire to keep resisting as far as I could go before he snapped.

“I’m asking him to a party this weekend,” Raphael said again, not waiting for my answer. I nodded, agreeing just to spite him more.

“Seriously, Raph? He’s not even up to your standard. And if he goes around saying yes to every guy who asks him out on the first day they meet, I think he’s a slut,” Soren barked angrily, opening the door to his side of the car.

“I think he’s smart. Why stall if you’re into someone?” Raphael asked, placing a friendly kiss on my cheek, as he helped me into the car and sat me down.

“This is bullshit. You both are just horny and end up—ugh. Man, he’s my fucking stepbrother. Can’t you do any better? He wears glasses… round ones.” Soren sneered.

“Well, it turns me on,” Raphael admitted, not shy, not breaking eye contact with me. But of course Soren Gregory couldn’t handle the spotlight being taken from him for even a second. He slammed the door to my side and ignited the engine, driving away faster than my mind could wrap around it.

“What was that for?” I questioned. He ignored, deciding on a call. He glanced down at the phone before looking back at me.

“Say a word and I’ll fucking kill you,” he spoke before picking up the call. His threat was directed at me. He held up the phone to his ear and began speaking. Then words were coded craps but I heard gambling. A race… a hockey tournament! He was trying so hard to keep his voice low as if his betting sounded unimportant, but the strain in his tone made it obvious.

He said nothing more until he pulled over at the garage, tossed the keys on the counter and turned up to change clothes, his hands trembling as he yanked at his phone. It was locked, of course, but I’d known the man for over four years before the fallout, and with his narcissistic attitude

I knew his habits — I’d watched him for years — so I typed his jersey as the contact. The phone unlocked. The last thread of messages was a number I didn’t know, then: “Bet confirmed. $50k on Chastity Verse. Pickup 2AM.” Another thread: a photo of cash and a white packet. My breath disappeared. I took a picture, hands shaking, and dialed Clark before I could change my mind.

If I went to police, it could spark a scandal that would tear the whole family apart. Clark had power. He could bury this — or he could ruin Soren. I chose bury. I stormed up the stairs banging the door and locking it while panting heavily.

He was insane. His godlike complex would ruin him; he had everything and now wanted to die? To be involved in illegal shit? Why? My mind raced faster and after what seemed like hours I could hear another car pulling up in the driveway.

His father’s voice filled the hallway as I went out onto the front door. Soren stood there, gaze pinned to the ground.

“Everything, Soren? I gave you everything. I did my fucking best while your deadbeat mother is half across the world pimping round— but drugs? Illegal grounds? Bets? You had enough in high school and now you went into the underground deal too? Do you know what would happen if this was found out? Are you fucking nuts?” Clark yelled again. My heart slammed hard against my ribs. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. His father wasn’t meant to talk him out of it, not kick him like this.

“Clark, he’s young. He probably wanted the adrenaline. Come on, be gentle on the boy,” my mother soothed, stepping forward before Soren could react, trying to hide Clark’s gaze from him. Finally Soren noticed my presence, and I saw the hurt, betrayal and hatred all at once mar his features.

“You’re right. He’s young… and now I’ll have to spend millions to clear out his tail in that underground betting place. I’ll spend lots of money scratching and scraping off his existence from that place… and the drugs… in his system? Oh, he’s going to rehab,” Clark snapped.

“Dad.” Soren finally spoke and his sound was worse than his demeanour; in one single word I could hear the pain, the panic and the haunt in his voice.

“You should be thankful. I’m letting you hold my last name because of Evelyn. Why can’t you be like her son? Look at Remi for goodness’ sake. Take a fucking sheet from his book and act like it! You’re leaving now… and just so you know, it’s the military rehab — the ones meant for athletes like you. So get down now. I’m driving you to the fucking airport myself.”

In that moment, I saw him crack. I saw him. Tired, lips split, and I saw Soren for what he really was — a boy, a child, just like me, a child whose life would always be dictated by his owners. A child who just wanted his parents’ approval.

His father stormed past Soren to the bedroom to probably pick up something. My mother chased after him. I stood, fixed, trying to hold the tears back as his image blurred with each step he took toward me. He walked like a lunatic… stopped when he was finally an inch away from me.

“I underestimated you, sin-doll. You’re the devil himself. And when I return, I’ll be your hell. You ratted me out, didn’t you? Couldn’t stand my presence — you just had to ruin my life again. I swear it by God himself, Remi. I will return, and you will die by my hands.”