All Your Fault

Chapter Five

Her blue pen scratched across the surface of the paper she was signing, after she had finished she closed the folder and folded her hands on the desk. Her smile was off, a mix between a frown and a solemn lift of the lips. Panic rushed through me, who died, was I going to die?

"Well I'm sure you know of your fathers…indiscretions." She waved a hand through the air noncommittally. Of course, I knew of the petit, hair the color of coffee, twenty-something-year-old that my father had his way with almost every other day; I would have been a naïve idiot not to know.

I nodded sharply, still unsure of why I was here, she continued, "I have become tired of sponsoring his habit and have decided to file for divorce." I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat; I knew this day was going to come.

"I see" was all I could say, my voice calm, collected, devoid of any real emotion.

Her eyes were trained on my face, seeing any flicker of resistance; I forced my face into a mask. She pursed her lips and continued yet again.

"All that being said, I have decided to move to Hawaii." I froze; my fists clenched my bag tighter.

"I can't move to Hawaii, I have too much here." I struggled to keep my voice from rising, she couldn't do this, she couldn't take me away.

She laughed, a cold dead laugh that I had become so used to. I studied her face, suddenly missing my emotionally comforting warm mother who never failed to say she loved me.

"Kasey pay attention," she snapped, jerking me from my memories.

"Sorry" I mumbled.

"As I was saying," she paused, "you aren't coming with me. You are 18 years-old now and are not in need of parental supervision. I have written up documents that will allow me to hand over the house to you. All the payments will be made and a credit card will be given to you for necessities and food. You will have to pay for nothing as usual."

She slid the small square piece of black plastic towards me in a professional manner, as if she wasn't paying off her own daughter to keep her out of her life. I stared down at it then up at my mother, she was watching me expectantly.

"I-I don't..." I stuttered and trailed off.

She sighed, "Kasey we both know that I don't…I mean you don't need me. Your school will be paid for and you will be living on your own, what kid doesn't want that." She gave me another of her off smiles; she had meant to say that she didn't need me.

I swallowed, "umm…" I still didn't know what to say.

She pulled off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose in an annoyed manner, "you are dismissed Kasey, Lauren will give you the documents you need to sign, I will call you when I get to Hawaii. All my belongings have been removed from the house during this conversation. Please leave."

I breathed in deeply; the sterile smell of the room burned my nose. I gripped the plastic credit card tightly in my hand and followed the blonde secretary into the hall. She led me back to the lobby; I followed in a daze, the recent events still sinking in. Her lips moved but no sound came out as she slid documents towards me and pushed a pen into my limp hands. I signed my name on the dotted lines she pointed at and waited while she called a cab to take me home.

My chest ached, my head pounded, pain licked at the edges of my heart. Abandoned, my throat burned with the unshed tears I forced back. My hand gripping the card began to sting; I looked down absentmindedly and noticed blood oozing from card like cuts.

The liquid was crimson against my pale skin; I stared down at it blankly. My vision wavered and my hands were covered in blood. It dripped down my arms, a crying baby screamed in the background, my shirt stuck to my skin soaked with the viscous liquid. I dropped my bag, scrubbing at my hands.

Blood so much blood, I cant stop it. She's dead, alone, always alone.

"You stupid girl what do you think you are doing" a familiar Russian accent broke through the hallucination. I jolted back to reality, sucking in air.

My eyes flicked around me seeking out the dark angry eyes that looked at me with so much hatred. He stood by the desk, his hands clenching the edges. His tattooed skin taught over muscled forearms, tendons stretched tightly.

I looked helplessly down at my hands; they weren't covered in blood, only a thin long line across my palm oozed. I wiped it on my pants, shaking my head at my terror; I scooped up my bag and swung it over my shoulder.

"Leaving" I snapped and strode out of the building into the cold air of the city.

I rested my head against the cool glass of the cab window, my warm breathe fogging it up. My backpack was clutched tightly in my lap as I tried to reign in the feeling of abandonment. I breathed deeply through my nose focusing on the large hole that felt like it had been punched through my chest. Was I really that bad was I really that unwanted. I made a sound of disgust in the back of my throat and stared blankly at the passing architecture.

Dorian's POV

Her blood smelled so sweet, pulsing through her veins in a rhythmic cadence that called to my beast; I had never wanted to taste anyone's blood as much as hers. My mouth watered at the thought of my claws clutching her to me, her silken throat beneath my teeth. I sucked in air forcing down the beast raging inside of me, demanding I go after her and rip her apart.

I closed my eyes, my hands clenching against the desk. "Mr. Petrov?"

I clenched my jaw willing away the angry beast that threatened to claw its way out of my chest; all for some stupid girl's blood. I shook my head disgusted with myself for my reactions.

"Yes?" I all but growled, twisting to look at the curly headed blonde.

Her blue eyes slid over me, my muscles tense, her ruby lips curled up in a smirk. She slid a folder to me; I had the urge to rip her arm from her shoulder.

"This is the girls file you asked for." Her fingers brushed mine; I yanked my arm back, grabbed the folder and swiftly left the room.

I slammed my door shut behind me, breathing hard, my body shook with effort. I threw myself onto the navy couch at the back of the room, staring down at the manila folder in my hands.

The tab read, 'Kasey Grant', I flipped it open a head shot of her face stared back up at me. Her hazel eyes bored, skin pale, freckles dusting her nose. Her long dark hair pulled back away from her face, a few errant curls framing her face naturally, her pale lips parted. I swallowed at the blood lust that rushed through me once again.

I quickly took the picture and put it face down on the other side of the folder. A newspaper article was next, the headliner angered and shocked me.

Kidnap Victim Found; Captors Found Dead

After an extensive six-month-long search, the Albany County Sheriff's Department located missing 17-year-old Kasey Grant in an abandoned home, chained to the floor by a collar around her neck, the body of one of her captors laying nearby; a crying baby in her arms.

According to the Miss. Grant, her captor had died during a complicated childbirth in which she helped deliver the baby. The baby has been deemed stable by the Albany Hospital, a baby boy who has yet to be named.

Miss. Grant suffered wounds of her own, whip markings on her back, a stab wound to the abdomen, and the wound around her neck from the chain; Miss Grant was also sexually assaulted.

The Albany County Sheriff's Department also claimed that the body of the first captor's husband was found in an abandoned warehouse two streets down, an apparent suicide.

I clenched the armrests of the chair and slowly exhaled. The beast raged against the cage of my mortal body, it snarled and growled. A deep anger and a feeling I did not know roared inside my chest. I threw back the chair, ripped the door open, and ran out to my car. The engine's roar matched the beasts as my tires squealed.