Unhinged (Dance With My Demons, #1)

by Steph Macca

Sometimes you need to cut ties with people… And sometimes those ties are arteries.

Many people see me as the villain. And to that I say… then I'll be the fucking villain.

I shake my head. There's that word again - lucky. For some reason, my journey keeps moving with the death of other people. And yet, apparently I'm lucky for it. People have a fucked up way of looking at prospective. I guess we're all a bit fucked up though.

lean over, locking eyes with her. And just when I think I have her all figured out, the feisty little thing kicks me square in the gut. "Ooft!" I groan, stumbling back. It's unexpected but frankly, I think I might be fucking in love with her.

Call it a hunch but I decide to check under the mattress. I have no idea if Grey is going to be true to his word and help me, but he's growing on me. Like a poisonous weed… but growing.

Underneath the flower is a handwritten note, a few short sentences scribbled hastily on the white paper. 'Meet me after dark. I'll collect you. Bring an open mind, little killer.'

I can sense he's letting me control it, and the action doesn't go unappreciated. I've never wanted someone more. For the first time in my life, I've felt seen and respected. Being here, with him, has made me feel more alive than I ever felt on the outside.

God — the hold this girl has over me. Damon is right, she's pulling me in so quickly. But I want to fall, I want to drown in everything about her. I don't care if it kills me. It would be the ending of all endings — a fitting demise for somebody like me. I'd happily go, accepting my fate, if it meant just hearing her say my name one final time.

"Oh, God," she mutters breathlessly. "Fuck. Oh, God." "I'm your God now, little killer. And I'm your fucking Devil too."

And it's at this moment, I realize I'm never letting her go. Now that I've tasted her and heard the sounds she makes when her world falls apart in the best way, she's mine. Avery is fucking mine.

People always fall into one of two categories. Either they fear me, or they fear me but want me to notice them.

"Pain is beauty," he says, putting his stuff away. "Now off you go. I'll see you at dinner." I don't know why, but those few short words tug at my chest. "I'll see you then," I reply, standing up and heading out of the room before I can say anything embarrassing.

"Your body is my territory, my sweet victory. Together, we'll rule the unhinged, little killer."

"I'm not done with you yet," I say to her with a warning. "So, watch yourself, Avery. Because I'm the big, bad wolf you should be afraid of here."

At the end of the day, I should be allowed to be happy and I think I am. Or at least, little parts of me are starting to glow.

I laugh, sensing the desperate validation. I don't blame her for thinking my story is probably worlds apart from hers — she's right. I'm a monster compared to her. If you put us side by side, she's a fallen angel and I'm the monster lurking in the shadows.

I knew I wanted to take her, but told myself she was too good, too pure for me. But here I am, balls deep inside of her, wondering how someone like me got so lucky.

God. I have some balls on me today. Who knew that having someone balls deep in you would make you grow your own?

Grey admits sheepishly. "This wasn't us, little killer." I see red, shoving him back. "Don't call me that." Grey has to stop himself from falling off the bed, immediately reaching for me as I try to move away. "Baby girl, stop," he groans, grabbing me. "I didn't call you that because I thought you were a murderer when we met. I called you that because I knew you would be the death of me. But it's a sweet death, one that I welcome."

I can't focus on anything other than the black ink, my body spiralling with pleasure as he fucks me up against the shelf. Books fall onto the ground around us, pages opening up, revealing themselves like me. I want it all, and I never want him to stop.

Powerless to refuse, I do so, my eyebrows creasing at the unfamiliar taste. It's not horrible though, and I suspect it's because it's him. Nothing could ever taint his perfection, everything about him just screams to me.

I love Grey. I fucking love him.