Apathy (Secrets of Winworth Book 1) Read online

  Copyright © 2021 by L.K. Reid

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Any resemblance to places, events, or real people is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Pretty in Ink Creations

  Editing by Maggie Kern at Ms. K Edits

  Formatting by Pretty in Ink Creations

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Playlist

  Author’s Note

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Also By L.K. Reid

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Stay in Touch

  To a sixteen-year-old Leila.

  You will be okay.

  “My heart is lost; the beasts have eaten it.”

  Charles Baudelaire, The Flowers of Evil

  As most of you already know, music is such a ginormous part of my writing process, and this playlist is one of my favorite ones. You can find the full playlist on Spotify.

  Let It Burn - Written by Wolves

  Wilt - Holding Absence

  Nobody - Faith Marie

  ULTRAVIOLENT - Crywolf

  Enemies with Benefits - Blind Channel

  Satan, Hello - KAMAARA, 8oz

  Redeemer - Palaye Royale

  Erase - Imminence

  Fuck ALL the Pain - KAMAARA

  Bully - KAMAARA

  Demons - Written by Wolves

  Astronaut In The Ocean - Our Last Night

  it’s okay to be afraid - Saint Slumber

  ULTRAnumb (Acoustic) - Blue Stahli

  Amphetamine - MNQN

  Rescue My Heart - Liz Longley

  Dark Storms - Our Last Night

  winter - Our Last Night

  Help Me Through the Night - Written by Wolves, Kellin Quinn

  High - Zella Day

  Emerge Part II - Ruelle

  Lost in Control - The Relentless

  Live Wire - Meghan Kabir

  Sara - We Three

  Lose You To Love Me - Andromida, Halflives

  One Day The Only Butterflies Left Will Be In Your Chest As You March Towards Your Death - Bring Me The Horizon, Amy Lee

  Fade to Blue - Roniit

  Desire - Violet Orlandi

  Demons - Omri

  Cross - Echos

  Pressure - Fifth Dawn

  Heaven in Hiding - Imminence

  Yelena Belova - Lorne Balfe

  Cruel Summer - Malia J, Think Up Anger

  Suffocate - Nathan Wagner

  Warfare - Katie Garfield

  White Flag (Reimagined) - Normandie

  These characters started whispering in my ear around January, and at the time, this story had a completely different plot.

  But I let it cook for a bit.

  And then Skylar started shouting, but she told me different things. Painful things. Things I, at first, didn’t really want to write. Not because they weren’t good, but because they were too real and were hitting too close to home.

  While Ophelia represented my anger, Skylar showed all my broken pieces.

  I always loved the occult, and when the idea about The Order started meshing with the messed-up life Skylar had, all the missing pieces clicked together, and I wrote it.

  And for the first time since I started this journey, I really wrote for myself.

  This book also has situations, scenes and conversations that happened to me when I was a teenager. And before you start worrying about my childhood and the way I grew up; I feel like I need to say that those parts of my life that sneaked into this story were not just the bad ones.

  I do feel like I need to warn you about the contents of this book. This is in no way sweet romance. Some of the situations are painful to read. You will read about drug use, about mental and physical abuse, about messed up kids and parents who should’ve cared more. You will also find scenes that might be too gruesome for some, and if any of the above-mentioned things are not okay with you, then this definitely isn’t a book for you.

  I also have a small favor to ask.

  Please don’t leave spoilers, and once you get to the end of the book, you will understand why.

  And most of all, thank you for reading and for joining me on this crazy journey.

  If you liked the book, please consider leaving a review. It would truly mean a lot to me.

  The sound of silence.

  I’ve heard that phrase so many times, but I never knew what it really meant. Not until now.

  Or maybe I still didn’t know what it was. Maybe this silence was only inside my head while the rest of the world kept screaming.

  Crying.

  Asking for help.

  Actually, now that I thought about it, all of us were screaming. Just constantly fucking screaming—some silently, some loudly, some with a smile on their face. There was no age, no race or gender limit, but every single one of us had some kind of pain. We carried it somewhere deep inside of our chests, in our bones, in the smallest atoms of our bodies. We carried it and learned to live with it.

  But we shouldn’t have to. Right?

  We shouldn’t have to live with it. We shouldn’t have to suffocate—day after day, month after month, and year after year, until the screaming became too much for us to bear. Until our vocal cords became too sore, and our bodies couldn’t handle the pain overflowing us. Until we decided it was too much, too long, and we decided to stop it.

  We shouldn’t have any kind of pain to carry at all. It pissed me off, this unfairness life always threw at us. Didn’t it piss you off?

  I bet it did. I bet you wanted to change something so many times. I bet you wanted to scream and laugh, and love and hug. I bet you wanted to be happy before life decided to fuck you up and cast you aside as if you never meant anything. As if it was your fault, you were dealt this shitty hand in life. It wasn’t your fault. It was never your fucking fault.

  My whole life, I wanted to get to this point. To stop feeling, to stop thinking, to stop the shit suffocating me. And here I was, finally surrounded by the sound of silence, and I didn’t know what to do. Monsters weren’t here anymore. They couldn’t hurt me any longer. It felt great.

  Floating.

  Silent.

  Weightless.

  I just wanted this feeling to last, but I knew it couldn’t. I felt the reality lurking on the edges of my mind. I knew what was coming, what I found myself in, but I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to think about it, even though I knew.

  There were sicknesses in this world even holy water couldn’t wash away.

  Skylar

  “Open up, pretty girl.”

  Laughter bubbled up from my chest, the taste of it like sin on my
lips as his scent filtered into my nose, and his eyes flashed with danger, burning into mine. But I opened my mouth—I always do. The bitter taste of the happy little pill exploded on my tongue and my body trembled, preparing itself for what was about to come. It was futile, fighting the inevitable, and I learned the hard way how much it hurt when my obedience wasn’t up to his tastes.

  “Swallow it,” he grunted. My throat worked as the pill slipped down, waiting to erupt inside my body, giving me a little bit of happiness to replace this numbness in my veins. “Good girl.”

  My eyes misted as I started focusing on the peeled wallpaper behind him. The faded golden swirls on what was once a teal background now looked like sinister vines spreading all over the wall. I waited as the clock on the nightstand ticked, as my heart started beating faster, and as everything I never wanted to happen started coming closer and closer. So fucking close I could already feel his hands on my body. I focused on the swirls as he pushed my body onto the bed, and the view of pretty little swirls was replaced by the bland ceiling filled with dark spots.

  Tick-Tock.

  Tick-Tock.

  It continued ticking as he lifted my shirt over my stomach, keeping it underneath my breasts. My eyes fluttered as the dark spots on the ceiling started changing shapes, dancing above us, telling me everything was going to be okay.

  He pressed his mouth above my belly button, licking his way over my heart, over my soul, chipping away the pieces of me. As he got greedier, as my eyes shut down, my shirt got lifted over my breasts, exposing me to his vile eyes. I never looked at him. I never wanted to look him in the eye, because I feared that the truth I would see there wouldn’t be his downfall, but mine.

  “Lift your arms up,” he instructed, and as an obedient little girl, I obliged, slowly falling for the satisfied smile on his face. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” I hoped so. “Touch yourself. I want to see you touch these pretty tits.”

  My body wasn’t my own anymore, and like watching a movie in slow motion, my hands pressed against the puckered nipples, and I arched my back, inviting him back in. Because I always did. I always welcomed him back.

  The sound of the belt dropping to the ground sent my heart into a frenzy. I knew what was about to come. His breaths turned deeper as I spread my legs wider, showing him my covered pussy. He gripped my knees and started spreading me wider and wider, until he crawled on the bed, settling himself between my legs.

  I hated the wetness coating me and the laughter, the frenzy… I hated being used to this, but words died on my lips, even though I wanted him to stop. My skin burned as he ripped my panties off, throwing them to the other side of the room.

  Three thick fingers entered me in one turn, burning my insides, burning my soul away. He started pumping in and out, making me loathe myself as moans erupted from my chest.

  I hate him.

  I fucking hate him.

  But I needed him because he had my happy little pill. He had all the pills, and I needed them. Today was a happy one. The other day I screamed and screamed and screamed, until his fist connected with my cheek, sending me to the floor. But I continued screaming. I continued crying. I continued begging to be free, even as he tore the clothes from my body and sliced me in half.

  And then I stopped screaming and started grinding against him, just like now.

  “You’re my good little whore. Aren’t you?” Yes! I needed to… Oh God. I needed it to take over. “Answer me!” he roared as he slapped my tit, making me scream.

  “Yes!” I need more, more, more. “Please.”

  He slapped the other breast, then squeezed, never letting the pain subside. Not that it ever did, even when he wasn’t the one touching me.

  “More,” I begged as he started slowing down. “Don’t stop.”

  “Shhhh.” He pressed a finger against my lips as he removed the other three from my pussy. “I’m gonna make you feel good, but I need you to keep quiet.” He leaned down, igniting the fire within as his dick pressed against my opening. “Can you do that, pretty girl?”

  I nodded, unable to speak. I was unable to move, afraid he would take away the pleasure that was so close.

  “Good.” I could see the wrinkles around his eyes, over his forehead, and I focused on the three lines between his eyebrows, avoiding his eyes. He pulled me up, holding my hands in front of me. “Open that pretty mouth.”

  He leaned back as I positioned myself on my knees and placed my hands on his hip bones. With one hand, he took a hold of his dick, with its angry red tip and pale skin, and with the other one, he pulled my head closer until the tip of his cock pressed against my closed mouth, seeking entrance.

  “Open.”

  I pulled my lips over my teeth and opened up as he dragged the tip over my bottom lip.

  “So beautiful,” he groaned. With one thrust, he entered my mouth, cutting off my oxygen supply as he hit my throat. I wasn’t ready—I wasn’t ready at all. I started coughing around his dick, but I couldn’t move away. He held the back of my head as he kept sliding in and out, lost in his own pleasure.

  My eyes watered as I tried breathing through my nose, but the gagging didn’t stop. It increased with each new push, with each new grunt, my mouth watering around him, but the fucking bastard didn’t stop.

  “Take it,” he grunted. “Take it all, pretty girl.”

  Tears fell over my cheeks as he kept going, but my body didn’t take a hint of what was happening. Not entirely.

  Sickness spread over my body as I felt myself grinding against the mattress, looking for friction, chasing the high from earlier. I felt sick with myself, but there was nothing I could do.

  My soul didn’t belong to me anymore.

  “Touch yourself.” His grip on the back of my head increased, but his thrusts slowed down, allowing me to breathe. “I want us to come together.”

  Half-crazed and half-lost, I touched my navel before my fingers traveled between my lips, and touched my clit, sending jolts of pleasure through me. I moaned around him, smiling, almost laughing as I entered one finger into my opening, then the second one, and the third one, trying to make it feel how his fingers felt inside.

  Sick.

  I was a sick, twisted girl.

  “That’s it.” He pushed inside my mouth. “Do you want to come?” His voice was a grunt, a promise, and I wanted it to come true. I wanted the fake little promises and the sweet nothings he could provide.

  I pressed against the spot inside, but it didn’t feel the same. It didn’t feel the same as his fingers.

  The foul taste of his precum slid down my throat, and I knew if we didn’t come together, he would leave me dry. I pushed my fingers faster and as the familiar sensation appeared at the bottom of my stomach, I knew I was close.

  “Suck it.” I gripped his hip and started moving my head faster, not waiting for him to move me. My fingers worked in sync with my mouth, and when I pressed my thumb against my clit, wiggling on my knees, he erupted into my mouth, groaning, breathing hard, making me swallow each drop, when all I wanted to do was vomit. As I clenched around my fingers, letting the sensation take over me, I screamed against the limp dick that was still in my mouth.

  He moved the hair from my face and started wiping the spilled tears, soothing me, praising me, loving me.

  “You’re my best girl, sweetheart. You will always belong here, with me, on your knees.”

  But I wouldn’t. I would rather die.

  If you saw the world burning, would you let it burn or would you try to extinguish the flames? Or would you be the one that set it on fire? Maybe you like to think that you would be the one to save it, but have you ever looked deep inside of yourself only to realize that you were the villain all along?

  I was surrounded by people who thought themselves to be heroes, when, in reality, they were nothing but vicious villains, setting everything on fire.

  I sat in the car, staring at the pale orange walls of Winworth High, willing myself to move so that I
wouldn’t miss the first class. It was a new school year, after all—my last one—and I just wanted to get it over with. Some people loved high school, some hated it, and I was indifferent. I guess when you live in a town filled with serpents hiding in the skin of angels, you learn how to be indifferent. You have to, if you want to survive.

  I grew up in the town of Winworth, in Washington State, and while you might be enamored by its picturesque scenery, beautiful mountains, rich history, and winning football team, I knew better. This was a new hell, but you couldn’t see the depravity until you started peeling off the layers from the walls and opening the doors where all its secrets lay still.

  It was one of those places that could lure you in, make you fall in love with it, and by the time you’ve realized the sickness spreading throughout its streets, it was too late for you to get out. Some people had a choice whether they wanted to be here, but I didn’t.

  I was a Blackwood, a founding family, a legacy, and no matter what I wanted to do in my life, I knew that living here wouldn’t be enough. No, Winworth demanded a lifelong, generations-long sacrifice, but I wasn’t going to be another sacrificial lamb. The promises I made to myself, the dreams I had to fulfill, it was all waiting for me after high school.

  Trying to clear the fog from my mind, to push the last night to the back, my eyes caught on a group of people I knew very well. On my left side, five parking spots away, a couple of guys from the football team of Winworth High tossed a ball between each other, earning hoots and hollers from the people gathered around them, who were waiting to be noticed by the Golden Boys of Washington State. I used to be like them. I used to dream about high school and the experiences it would bring.