Necessary Cruelty
Copyright © 2020 by Ashley Gee
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Resemblance to actual persons and things living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Contents
About This Book
Playlist
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
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue
Before you go…
About the Author
Will he save me or break me?
Vin Cortland is the crowned prince of Deception High. He is beloved by his subjects and ruthless with his enemies.
We used to be friends, once. Not anymore.
It’s no secret that he hates me, but only the two of us will ever know why. And the guilt of what I’ve done makes me hate myself more than he ever could.
Except love and hate are two sides of the same coin and both will make you burn.
Then he comes to me with a proposition: one fake marriage in exchange for enough money to finally escape this town and leave the past behind me. The offer is hard to refuse and Vin is used to getting what he wants.
I want to know why me, but I won’t ask for his secrets when it means revealing my own.
He is the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me.
My savior and my destruction.
It’s a deal with the devil.
I’ll let him take my hand in marriage.
The only question is whether or not he also gets my soul.
“Heartbreak Hotel” — Alice Chater
“Tokyo Drifting” — Glass Animals
“Champagne Eyes” — AlunaGeorge
“Daddy AF” — Slayyter
“My Name is Dark - Art Mix” — Grimes
“Bury Me Alive” — Kelvyn Cole
“Crossfire” — Stephen
“Own Me” — bülow
Nothing painful is there, nothing fraught with ruin, no shame, no dishonour, that I have not seen in thy woes and mine.
Antigone
Prologue
Zaya
Dark clouds swirl on the horizon. A distant storm rapidly approaches the shore. The crash of ocean waves is louder than ever as I walk down the deserted beach. I’ve spent my whole life with the world on mute, and now I’m hearing it all for the first time.
Silence has been my only defense against the world’s cruelty for so long that the noise is more than I can bear.
My whole life has been driving toward this moment, forcing me closer and closer to the edge of the cliff until I don’t have any choice but to jump.
I’ve never really felt like I belonged anywhere, certainly not here where I’ve never been more than the town trash. Even my family is only bits and pieces with no glue holding it together. My own mother couldn’t bear to stay with me, not for any longer than she had to. Dementia has freed my grandfather of his bad memories and saved him from the pain of missing me. My brother is gone, and he won’t be coming back.
No one left will miss me if I’m gone, at least not for long.
Shocking cold hits my toes as I step into the surf, a bitter mismatch for the warmth in the air. The water here is always frigid. It takes a brave soul to step into it without protection and hope to make it back out.
I’ve never been anything close to brave.
The idea of being done with all of it brings a surprising lightness to my step, a stark contrast to the crushing despair that has always been my more constant companion. In death, there won’t be fear or pain.
There won’t be anything at all.
I’ve always feared the ocean, a strange thing for someone who was born in spitting distance of the water. Growing up, trips to the beach were more frequent than visits to the grocery store. I’d never understood how anyone could look at the infinite water, the waves crashing hard enough to break bone, and see anything but death.
Just more evidence I was never meant to survive in this world.
As a kid, my mom used to tell me stories of people being washed out to sea by the tides, unable to make their way back to the shore. Even the strongest swimmers eventually grow exhausted fighting the undercurrent. She described in detail the lashing waves during a storm that could tear apart fishing boats in a matter of minutes and suck the pieces down to the bottom, too deep to be recovered.
Darkest ocean is the final frontier, harder to reach than walking on the moon.
I’ve dreamed about what it might be like to give my body over to the sea. I’d always called them nightmares until I realized the real nightmare began the moment I opened my eyes.
Water churns around my ankles like the phantom hands of death, so cold it burns my skin. I take another step forward, and the frigid surf splashes against my knees, weighing me down as water seeps into the long train of my dress.
Some girls gently pack their wedding dresses away like priceless antiques, mine will be a death shroud.
I shiver at the creeping chill, knowing it will only get worse. The most excruciating moment will come when the water rises to my chest, just above the level of my heart.
It’s always the heart that can least take the cold.
My hand drifts down to touch the still flat plane of my belly. I imagine a touch of heat there, the tiniest spark of life, but it isn’t enough to call me back. And I refuse to bring anyone else into this world who might experience the same pain I have.
A voice echoes through the distant canyon, familiar even over the sound of crashing waves that is
