Page 108 of Gravehouse

I lower the gun with a soft growl. I need to get away. It’s been less than two minutes and I’m ready to risk my entire life just see the inside of Camille’s skull.

The front door opens again. Who the fuc—“Khloe?”

A smile splits across my face when the familiar tall replica of the asshole in the living room steps through.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry I’m early, but, wait!” she points suspiciously. “That better not be Camel-toe’s car in the driveway, she’s the only bitch I know who would have a legit pink plate in?—“

My lips curl to stop my laugh as Khloe pauses near the living room, obviously noticing that her assessments were right.

She turns back to me with a fake smile. “Couldn’t even give a bitch a heads up? Just let me walk right into that one, huh?”

Her focus shifts to her brother and his—whatever—widening her arms out to them. “Hello, dearly beloved. Camille, wipe the frown off your face. It’s no secret I hate you. Also, I’m so glad you found yourselves here, but I should warn you…”

“Khloe?” Asher stares at his baby sister. “Shut the fuck up.”

Khloe fixes her face, flipping him off. “Fuck you.”

Asher ignores her, side-eying my cooking as he moves through the kitchen. Bastard.

Camille slides onto the barstool beside him, her manicured nails drumming against the marble countertop. She says something under her breath that only Asher can hear, drowning my vision blood fucking red.

In the distance somewhere, Devon laughs at something Khloe says, oblivious to what just walked through the door.

My finger twitches against the trigger.

I’m not doing this again. The spiral. The games. Watching him with her while I pretend I don’t internally crash out every time he touches her. Playing house in a marriage that was never real to begin with.

Our fucking house.

The words loop and loop until they turn to static.

My arm lifts as Camille turns toward me with that smug fucking smile.

I pull the trigger, popping her right in the shoulder.

Blood sprays across the backsplash I scrubbed clean last week, before she hits the ground with a howl that would make me laugh if I wasn’t so fucking furious.

“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes at where she’s crawling into a ball in the corner. “That’s barely a fucking graze.”

Asher groans, massaging his temples before hischair crashes backward. He’s on his feet, crossing the room in three strides.

My eyes swing to Camille as I cross the distance, ignoring Asher. “I’d suggest you leave unless Aléia is good with having your body delivered to her in tiny little pieces.” I straddle her with both feet planted on either side, waving the gun in the air. “You know Jord? Yeah, Jord. He’s very good at his cleaning job. Not a speck ofdirtleft behind.”

“Venom,” Asher growls from behind me. “You aren’t following the rules.”

“Oops.” I shrug, turning over my shoulder. “Guess I don’t fucking care.”

Khloe’s trying not to laugh, but when her eyes land on her brother she straightens.

“You’ve lost your goddamn mind,” Asher’s voice deepens. The fact that he seems so upset only infuriates me more.

“You want the house?” I look between him and Camille. “Take it. You want to parade your little pet around in front of me? Fine, but she can fuckinglimp.”

“Ivy...” Khloe murmurs, but it’s too late. Everything I’ve kept locked down detonates, ricocheting through my veins until I can’t tell fury from heartbreak.

The door swings open again, and Atlas steps inside, whistling when he takes in the carnage. “Good to see you again, Ivy. This—” he gestures around the room. “Very on-brand.”

Asher glares at his brother.