Echoes (Dance With My Demons, #2)

by Steph Macca

I can't help but wonder what my viewers think of me too. I feel like a circus animal, chained and put out for show. Come one, come all. Hear the echoes of my hauntings.

I spent my whole life as an afterthought—if I was even lucky to be that.

I'll paint the hallways red and string Christmas lights up made of intestines."

Oh, please try me. Please, please… push me over the edge. I'm begging you.

Out of sight, out of mind they say. But that's just bullshit. Now that I know she's in the same building as me again, the tether between us pulls. And I'm going to take that tether and wrap it around her soft body—whether that's to fuck her or kill her, I don't know yet.

He's a walking paradox, a bomb ready to detonate into a bloodied mess of flowers and glass.

That would have meant leaving you…

We're nothing if not animals, driven by the primal urges buried deep in our DNA.

She tastes like Heaven. My fallen angel. If God exists, he must be sick. Who would send a divine creature like her into the Devil's lair? And now she's stuck with me.

She's a fucking powerhouse, bringing even the most broken, lost souls to salvation.

If anyone lays a single finger on her, bruising her perfect skin, I'll soak them in gasoline and make a bonfire.

"You're not going to avoid me any longer, Avery. I don't care the reason why. Whatever it is, I promise that I'm the bigger threat."

If I can't have her, then maybe I'll just torture her. Just like she tortures me.

I am playing with fire—I want to burn.

It hurts knowing that I'm hurting her, but at the same time, the pain is all I have to hold on to.

"Who do you think killed Hallman, little killer? He didn't take his own life. No—I ended it. I ended that sad, pathetic excuse of a man because he touched you. He tried to hurt what's mine."

I'd kill just to make you smile."

"You're fucking mine, Avery," he growls into my mouth. "This lifetime and the next one too."

The feeling of our bodies together is blinding, like we're made to be as one.

"This is what you do to me," I breathe out, growling as her finger presses into my flesh harder. "You tear me apart from the inside out in the best fucking ways possible. You make me kill for you, you make me want to die for you. I'll burn this whole place down to ashes and paint you with them like the muse you are."

I guess giving her a little dick reward has gone a long way toward her compliance.

Theo fucking Ashwood

Even the mere mention of her name rocks me. It's like a poetic tsunami—large waves drowning me but bringing such peace. Apparently, it has the same effect on Ashwood, because he looks up properly, his sneer dropping.

She's happy. And I did that.

I think I have emotional whiplash but it's worth it.