Chapter 25: Skyler - Pack of Mine

I hear Valentine grunting as he drags a very pissed Octavia by her bicep through the front door. She’s kicking and cussing at him, but despite her efforts, he’s still able to wrangle her into the living room.

She pushes into his chest one more time and I can’t even comprehend exactly what she’s saying because it’s coming out so fast.

“Jeez, I’m getting too old for this.” He looks at me and jokes.

Octavia glances around the room, her eyes tracing over the destroyed furniture, broken glass and fluff covering the rug. When her eyes finally lock with Tristan’s, her hand flies up to cover her mouth and tears absolutely flood her face like a broken dam.

I can see the regret from here, the guilt that shoots through her skin. Her eyebrows pull together and a sob wracks out of her chest.

I trace her tiny feet with my gaze as they hurriedly carry her towards him at the counter and she pays no mind to me, shoving right past and placing her palm on his arm.

My heart sinks – I watch her grieve what she’s done while she stands over him. She wipes her tears with her forearm and sniffles, wrapping her small hands around his face.

“Tristan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she says with a shaking voice.

Yeah, she meant to hurt me.

He looks up at her and reaches for her hands, pulling her grip away from his face with a small cough.

“It’s okay, I forgive you. You’re too pretty not to forgive.”

He flirts with her, even in this state. Crazy.

“I love you, Tristan. I’m sorry.”

Fuck. There it is.

Of course she loves him and not me.

She fell for the gentle blonde boy. He’s been perfect with her, even from the beginning. He didn’t want to kill Connor, he didn’t want to kidnap her, he didn’t even want to look at her once she was locked up here.

Who was I kidding? I’m nothing compared to him. I’m a heartless piece of shit who doesn’t know how to love. I’m a shell of a human. Why the fuck would she ever love someone like me?

I snap out of my spiralling thoughts and take in the destructive scene around me.

The couch and chair cushions are gashed wide open, with stuffing spilling out of them. Shreds of wood and broken glass from the tables spread across the floor, the metal frames are the only thing remaining. Spilled liquor covers the rug, the pile of trashed furniture, and the wooden floor as it stinks up the room.

Look at what I did. Look at the mess I made. Tristan would never do that.

Octavia continues to dote on him while Valentine also watches them closely with his arms crossed. Her hands run up and down his body and I listen to her apologize relentlessly.

That bullet was meant for me. I shouldn’t even be here right now.

I feel a deep, painful throb in my chest, my stomach starts to sour and I think I’m about to puke on the floor. Adrenaline rips through my veins and my mouth begins to ache, my canines begging to pull down.

Overwhelmed with emotions, I back out of the room and turn into the garage hallway. I grab a set of dirty sweats from the laundry room and walk outside to smoke.

The last cigarette shakes out of my pack and I anxiously stick it between my lips, hands shaking.

She wanted me dead.

With a sigh, I light it, pull in the longest drag I possibly can and blow the smoke straight into the cold air. It burns my lungs, distracting me from the pain of my own mind.

I wish I could rip my heart out of my chest and give it to her. I wish I could somehow show her how I feel. Not that it really matters now, anyway.

She loves him, and not me.

I’m in love with a woman that doesn’t feel the same way.

The trees creak in the wind and the moonlight begins to hide – morning is my least favorite time of day. I don’t need the sun to highlight my sins and make me feel worse about myself right now.

The front door shuts and Valentine walks over towards me. He squats down with a heavy grunt that really shows his age and sits on the gravel six inches away.

“Here, you old fuck.” I pass the cigarette to him and he takes a long drag, sighing at the end of it.

We both sit in silence for a few moments, enjoying the cold air and trying to ground ourselves. My mind gets lost in memories of her and I shut my eyes to swim around in them peacefully.

“You know we all feel the same way about her, right? How’s that going to work?”

His scratchy voice shocks me out of deep thought and brings me back to a reality I currently hate.

I snatch the burning cigarette back from him, shoot him a glare and watch the sun start to creep over the horizon, turning the sky a light shade of orange.

Asshole.

My eyes catch a glimpse of them through the large windows – a perfect couple. A black cat and her golden retriever boyfriend. It’s a match made in Heaven, and with me it’d be a match made in Hell.

“Do you think she loves us too, and not just him?” The uncertainty burns like acid as it comes out of my mouth.

Valentine sighs, pats his knees and stands back up. He doesn’t turn around to say goodbye as he walks towards the front door.

Guess that was too much emotion for him.

I flick my cigarette into the gravel and head back inside, following right on his tail.

Octavia continues to caress Tristan and they talk, paying no attention to us. He smiles when he looks at her and his eyes light up when she touches him.

I take a deep inhale and drag my aching bones towards them in the kitchen. My hand reaches out to her, but she flinches away from me.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” I say as softly as I possibly can. “I promise.”

Terror fills her face and Tristan grabs her hand, reassuring her.

The orange sun shines through the windows and lights up her skin beautifully – she’s literally glowing. I wish I were the one holding her soft hand, making her smile.

She swallows and looks like she ponders saying something, but gulps down her words instead.

“Go get some rest, you must be exhausted.” I give up on waiting for her to speak and motion her off to Tristan’s wing of the house.

The energy of the room is awkward and too quiet for comfort.

I turn on my heel and walk towards my room in the opposite direction. I just want to sleep the last few days off.

No one objects my silent decision and I shut my door behind me, hoping and praying she’s still here later tonight. My blackout curtains hide the dreaded sunlight and I crawl into bed, emotionally and physically wounded to my core.

Her smell fills the house again and I take another deep inhale, the perfect sensation to drift me right off to some much-needed sleep.

* * *

When I wake up, I stretch my arms wide across the bed, yawn and glance around the room. Everything looks the same, but my door is cracked open.

Odd.

I listen closely for anything at all, but the house is almost completely silent.

My feet sneak out of my wing and into the kitchen where I find Octavia in an oversized shirt, glowing in the fridge light and drinking a beer. It’s dark outside again and she doesn’t notice me yet.

I tiptoe closer to her, watching her like my prey I’m about to catch. Her lips wrap around the bottle and she takes a big swig, digging around for something.

She sighs and shuts the fridge door that I’m hiding behind, giving up her hunt, but I win mine.

“Late night snack?” I grin and lean against the counter.

She gasps and spills beer on her shirt.

“Skyler…” Her nervous hands grip the countertop behind her, dread filling her bloodshot eyes.

Normally that would turn me on, but I’m not interested right now.

“Octavia, please let me talk to you,” I plead with her desperately.

She gulps and sets her bottle on the island. The scratches on her arms have scabbed over and her face looks a little more lively, aside from the redness around her eyes.

“They told me you would kill me… to cure yourself. All of you.” Her voice is quiet, like a mouse that’s embarrassed.

“And I saw my mom, she admitted to everything she did. She cursed all three of you…” She sniffles and wipes her nose.

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“I wanted to die, Skyler. I wanted to escape my mind, and they just kept drugging me…” She does her best to hold back a sob and hangs her head low.

Before she can run away, I approach her, wrapping my hands around her tightly and pulling her into my chest. She doesn’t fight me, but she doesn’t hold me back.

“I don’t want you to die.” My hands stroke her back and I let her cry into my shirt while her arms hang limp at her sides.

I try to relish the warmth of her body and our first hug, but she pushes off of me and her face twists with confusion.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

I swallow harshly and feel the emotions rage against the back of my teeth, but I’m not brave enough to say the words. I try to open my mouth and speak, but nothing comes out.

Goddamn it. Now I’m the one without balls.

We stand in silence, the hum of the fridge in the background. She looks at me impatiently, tapping her foot and waiting for me to say anything at all.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She turns away from me, heading back to Tristan’s room.

Fuck. I’m fucking this up.

I grab her arm and rip her towards me.

“Just go with me.”

I only know one way to show her my heart: one final and dramatic gesture to show her how I really feel about her.

I drag her to my Mustang parked in the driveway while she fights me the whole way.

“Where the fuck are you taking me?!”

Her fists beat into my chest and she tries to resist sitting in the car, but I force her tiny body into the passenger seat.

This better work.

I lock the door behind her and get in the driver’s side, one specific location on my mind.

We drive and drive, the moonlight enchanting the empty roads. She huffs and puffs, staring out the window and sitting as far away from me as possible.

When we finally arrive, I pull her out of the car and throw her over my shoulder, to which she kicks and screams at me like a child getting dragged to the doctor’s office.

What a fucking brat.

I carry her towards the deteriorating house, through the rotting wood fence and my feet squish in the mud.

“Fucking put me down!” She yells.

My hands wrap around her waist and I sling her over my shoulder onto the ground where her bare feet sink deep into the wet soil in front of mine.

“Where the fuck are we?” She looks around the backyard.

I’m nervous and I’ve never felt this level of vulnerability before – this unfamiliar feeling chills me to the bone. If I fuck this up any further, I might have to kill the only love of my life so she can’t tell anyone else about it.

Visions of my mother and father flash across my eyes like a movie trailer. I see the blood, the boiling skin of her face, the knife in my hands all over again.

“This is where I grew up.”

Her face jolts back to mine and she looks up at me, horrified. Her green eyes search my face for any emotion.

When she doesn’t find anything, she glances around the yard more, eyeing the abandoned house that’s caving in and vines growing up the walls. The foundation is cracked and breaking off into small pieces on one of the corners, making the whole house lopsided.

Do it, you fucking pussy.

The fresh pile of dirt stares at me, egging me on. My throat feels like a lump is stuck in it and I can’t breathe. I’m fucking panicking.

“And that,” I point at the pile that looks different from the rest and sigh. “Is a grave.”

She glances at it, then back to me.

“Who’s grave?”

Remorse utterly consumes me, my rib cage feels like it’s going to fall out of my chest. Memories of that night race around my mind. I see the bimbo’s lips turning blue, I feel the jealousy that I felt all over again and my jaw clenches up.

“I don’t know her name.” I spit it out quickly before the demon in my ear can tell me to lie.

“Her?”

Anxiety spills out of my pores and I feel like I’m going to vomit all over my feet. Valentine told her we’d never killed a woman before and I ate my words, breaking that promise. I’m such a piece of shit.

“She’s one of eight.”

“Eight?!”

“Eight. And I…” The words get stuck in my throat again. “I killed all of them.”

She looks at the other graves, neatly lined up like a grim parade, then grips her chest and leans forward to dry heave over the ground.

Fuck. This is hard.

“I brought you here because I need you to know, I need you to see…”

She vomits bile and beer onto the dirt. Her body shakes and she hunches over, keeping her gaze towards the brown soil.

“…that, Octavia, I’m a monster. I’m the worst person that I know.”

She spits on the ground and finally looks up at me with teary eyes.

“I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve anything.”

Do it. Fucking do it.

I pull a large knife from my back pocket and pass it to her with the blade facing me. She grips it with shaking hands and her brows twitch with turmoil.

I feel every emotion I’ve ever felt in my entire life at this moment. Guilt, fear, shame, hate, anger. They crash into my body like waves in the ocean.

This is the only way. I have to do this.

I slowly drop to my knees in front of her and hold her hands with the knife in between them to my throat, the sharp edge poking my skin already.

“Octavia, if you believe that I deserve it, if this is what you desire…” As I gulp, the blade scrapes my Adam's apple. “It would be an honor to die for the only woman I have ever loved.”

I pinch my eyes shut and a tear spills over my cheek.

This is it, I’m doing it. I’m being vulnerable, I’m sacrificing it all, I’m giving someone else the power for once in my miserable life.

“The Universe has a debt that needs to be repaid.”

I slowly drop my hands off of hers and pull them together behind my back, leaving me completely at her mercy.

When I open my eyes, she stares back at me, the blade shaking and scratching my skin with her every movement. She keeps the knife at my throat, debating whether to let me live, or kill me and bury me next to my sins.

“I love you, Octavia.”

The hardest words I’ve ever carried finally leave my lips, and my body trembles at the relief.

The moonlight shines around her, creating a beautiful halo effect. My eyes burn from the tears and I stare up at her – a fallen soldier at the feet of an angel.

My angel.

“And if you decide I deserve to live, I promise that I will spend the rest of my dishonorable life proving my worth to you.”