The Devil In Disguise

CHAPTER 39: Three Days

Take rest and don't strain yourself until you're better.

Better. Better? Xander thought furiously. What kind of bullshit do doctors spew out? Oh, if they knew how I felt right now...

He reached out and groped around for the pain killers on his bedside table. Barely moving, he chucked them into his mouth and swallowed them without water.

That psychotic bastard slashed me with his knife, Xander thought bitterly. He'd had to get it sutured; apparently it would take around two weeks to heal fully, though the wound was long but not deep. He had a concussion, however, from having his head smashed on the floor so hard that he swore he'd felt the bone of his skull splinter his brain.

Now, all he had to do was rest.

One problem, though; Xander was as restless as a hungry lion. He was furious at Karissa's kidnapper, torturer, murderer — whatever he was called — but also at himself. He'd let Karissa get kidnapped, get stolen from him — after he'd promised her he wouldn't let that happen.

Xander almost laughed; how was he so useless against that man? How had Karissa escaped such a rotten person with her soul still intact — twice?

He knew one thing for sure: he needed to find her. Before the unthinkable happened. Unless it already had...

Xander told himself, mentally, to shut up. He knew that Karissa was fine. He knew that she would fight and she would escape a third time. He knew because he didn't know what else to do except from know.

***

Corina screamed into her pillow furiously.

It had been three days since one of her best friends had disappeared and she was feeling positively murderous.

Her fluffy pillow muffled her yell and, taking it off her face, she chucked it onto her bed and started punching it in hopeless wrath. That pillow, she knew, hadn't done anything wrong; but she needed a punching bag and the poor pillow was just laying there innocently.

"I — AM — GOING — TO — FUCKING — MURDER — THAT —" she was suddenly cut off as her dad walked into her room without knocking. His eyes skimming over her messy hair and furious face carelessly, he said, "I'm working, could you keep it down, honey?"

Corina glared daggers at her father. Her cheating father, who broke her entire family.

"How about no?" Corina replied sweetly, poison dripping off her every word. A flash of regret appeared in her father's eyes, disappearing as quickly as it came — but Corina didn't notice.

"Please, honey. I have an important client waiting —"

"Why aren't you with them then?" Corina snapped, all sarcasm and pretences dropped. "We both know who the fuck your 'client' is. My sincerest apologies if my yelling in my house in my bedroom disrupts your alone time —"

"CORINA!" her father boomed and she stopped herself from jumping, sticking her chin in the air instead, her olive skin reddening in rage.

"WHAT?" she yelled back, even louder. "THAT WOMAN IS THE REASON MY ENTIRE FAMILY ISN'T A FUCKING FAMILY ANYMORE!"

Stopping to take a breath, she knew her father wouldn't dare interrupt her — so she continued, making sure his 'client' downstairs could hear every word.

"No, you know what? YOU are the reason that our family is broken! It was all you, you greedy, lustful, piece of —"

"Corina, please," her father whispered. Tears had sprung up in his eyes and he couldn't look at Corina; but this only drove her anger higher.

"Please? Please what? Please don't actually say the truth out loud because it's really fucking embarrassing for you?" Corina retorted, not even glimmer of remorse in her eyes. She distantly knew she was taking her anger out on her father, but she didn't care. She was already hysterical about Karissa's kidnapping, and he didn't give a single shit. He deserved it. "Please don't scare away your gold-digger play thing who didn't show up again until you got another house? Please don't call her a FAMILY BREAKING BITCH? PLEASE DON'T CALL YOU A SHALLOW, CHEATING, LECHEROUS BASTARD? PLEASE WHAT?" Corina was screaming hysterically by the end, her fingers curled into fists so tightly that her nails dug into her skin and made her palms bleed.

Tears streamed down her father's face and he slumped, his posture looking pitiful as he leaned against the doorframe in despair.

"Please forgive me," he said, his voice cracking. An almost indecipherable flash of sadness shone through Corina's eyes but her face morphed into an unforgiving, merciless expression. She knew that he was putting on an act. His sadness didn't reach his eyes; it never did.

"All you care about if yourself," she growled. Pointing to his face, she continued, "This? These waterworks, your crocodile tears? If you truly wanted me to love you again, you'd be an actual father to me. You'd comfort me and ask me how I'm doing after my friend was shot and kidnapped while another was stabbed and almost killed!"

Scoffing humourlessly, she added slowly, "All you want is for me to fall on my knees and forgive you so that I won't cause chaos whenever your thirsty bitch falls on her knees for an entirely different reason."

Her father, understanding her crude comment, gasped in shock. Corina relished in it, but only for a moment before he snarled,

"Get out."

Corina blinked, her stomach taking a nosedive. She wasn't sure she'd heard her father correctly.

"W-What?" she asked, not meaning to stammer.

"Get out of my house."

Corina stared at him. Then her stare twisted into a smile.

"Oh, it would be my pleasure!" she exclaimed in delight, hiding her internal feelings of shock, betrayal, despair, loneliness, remorse, regret...

"I'm glad I won't have to hear that moaning every night. You know, the walls are very thin, you may want to do something about that!" Corina continued in an exaggeratively happy tone, now chucking things into her overnight bag to take to her mother's house. Her father's face twisted and he looked like he wanted to hit Corina, but he whipped around and slammed the door instead, relieved that she was leaving without another ruckus.

But as soon as the door closed, Corina slouched, her mocking facade disappearing. Her hands fell away from her bag and her arms drooped as she slumped and the tears came, falling out of her eyes uncontrollably like a broken tap. She hated her father, hated him with all her guts — but it still hurt to know that the feeling was mutual.

A/N

How did you like the different POVs? Changing up the style with the plot- look at me being all spontaneous!

Merry Christmas, I'm releasing two chapters at once as a present!

As my present, remember to VOTE! :)

—deainlustris