“Yeah, the Gemma I know wouldn’t say that,” I say, walking up to the bed. “And if she did say it, her cheeks would turn pink with her embarrassment.” I sit down on the bed beside her and lightly stroke her cheek with my finger. “This isn’t the Gemma I know.”
Her amusement rapidly shifts to anger. Turning her head, she tries to bite my finger and manages to knick the skin. “That Gemma was weak,” she snaps. “This one is so much better.” She shuts her eyes and breathes in deeply, like she’s ravishing the taste of the air. “God, I feel so alive at the moment… like I could do anything.”
It kills me to see her like this, my chest aching in a way I didn’t think was possible. “Look, I don’t know who you are, but you need to bring her back.”
Her eyes shoot open and I’m startled by the amount of anger blazing in them, smoldering lavender. She looks as enraged as my father would get whenever Aislin or I would do something wrong. “I already told you who I am. Gemma Lucas. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“Who did this to you, then?” I ask, reaching out to touch her, yet when she scowls at me, I draw my hand away. “Who put that mark on your arm?”
She tips her chin down to look at the mark branded on her skin. “Does it really matter?” she asks. “You and I both know that regardless of how it got on there, it’s on there, which means I have evil in my blood.”
“No, there has to be a different reason,” I insist. “Like maybe the star allowed it on you.”
She shakes her head, laughing. “Don’t be stupid. It’s on me because I have evil blood inside me. Because I’ve been evil all along and this,” she jerks her marked arm upward, “just allowed me to let it out.”
I ball my hands into fists, fighting the urge to yell, but she’s pissing me off. “I’ve known you since we were kids and trust me, there’s not a single damn drop of evil inside you, whether you think so or not.”
“That’s not what your father told me,” she says, watching my reaction with hunger as the desire to break me lurks within her eyes.
My fists clench tighter while my jaw goes taut; my anger begins simmering, ready to boil over the surface. “Is that who did this to you?” I ask, and although she doesn’t respond, I can see it in her eyes.
I’ve been angry before, but this… I’m not sure I can handle the heat of emotions flaring inside me. I want to punch my father. Throttle him. Maybe even kill him. I want to hurt him so badly at the moment that it’s tearing me up inside.
Getting to my feet, I storm over to the wall and hammer my fist repeatedly through it, trying to let out the anger the safest way I can think of. While the wall doesn’t make it out so great, a large hole in it, no one gets hurt and the pressure inside me is alleviated just a bit.
“Feeling better?” Gemma asks as I make my way back to the bed, stretching out my fingers.
Shaking my head, I climb on the bed and align my body over her. I don’t know why. It’s not like I usually get this close to my enemies; yet, she’s not my enemy. She’s my... soul mate? Other half? I have no clue. All I know is that I need to be close to her. “Tell me what my father wants,” I demand, leaning over her, trying to picture her as someone else to make this easier.
She elevates her head, getting as close to me as she can. “He wants you dead, which I will do,” she hisses. “So just untie me and lets get this over with.
“You really think you can do that?” I ask, leaning closer as my fingers find her wrists. “You really think you can hurt me?”
She nods her head up and down, an arrogant look in her eyes, and I fucking hate how much I love it; love that she just might be able to hurt me. “It’d be the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” she says haughtily.
I assess her closely, debating how much I should push her. How far should I go with this just to see how deeply she’s possessed? I know the mark on her arm is powerful and it might be stupid to test it’s strength against Gemma’s feelings for me, but it might be the only way to get her back.
I just hope this plan doesn’t backfire and I wind up dead.
Chapter 4
(Alex)