Less than Perfect - S. J. Evans (best e reader for manga .TXT) 📗

she was breathing.
“Skylar, what would you be doing in my office?” He drawled, rolling the words off of his tongue with a sheer coating of anger and threat. There was anger in his eyes, replacing the usually bright blue with the dark and menacing color that always took its place with stress.
She screamed at herself not to open her eyes, but she knew that if she didn’t he would make her anyways. Terrified of seeing him, she slowly opened her eyes and flinched when she saw how close he was. She let out a scream and scrambled away from his devilish self.
Johnny grabbed her arm and yanked her into him, growling, “I asked you a question, Princess.” His hand gripped her arm painfully, causing her to wince.
“I—I don’t understand,” she stammered, whimpering when he shook her.
His lips crept into a threatening smile again, “You know that I don’t like it when you stammer your words, Princess, right? Now why are you in here?” He bellowed, grabbing onto both of her arms roughly and shaking her small body.
“I—I’m sorry. I just came in here to find a pencil,” she lied, crying out as his hands bruised her arms.
He laughed at her and shoved her against the wall then, growling under his breath. He was incredibly upset and he wasn’t going to allow her lying game. “Don’t lie to me, Skylar, I know when you’re lying.”
She closed her eyes and begged with him to give her a chance, she needed an explanation. “What are you doing with all of those pictures of me and Leah? Have you been stealing pictures from her, or are you really just so sick that you’ve been spying on us for years?” She said through clenched teeth, opening her eyes and struggling against his arms.
He slapped her hard across the cheek and tossed her against the door, sending her sprawling to the floor and the door slamming shut. She winced and put a hand to her head, dizzy. “You shouldn’t have looked in those drawers, Princess. You’re going to wish you never had.” He sneered, walking slowly over to her.
She backed away frantically, suddenly very cold and aware that he could try to kill her, and searched for something she could use in defense. “Please, Johnny, don’t do this. You don’t want to do this, I know you don’t.” She pleaded, gasping as she backed into the wall. She was out of options, he was getting closer. Something on the corner of the desk caught her eye and she scrambled to get up, kicking with all momentum she could get.
Her aching body protested as she dove for the phone and picked it up, dialing the first number she could think of: 911

. Her heart skipped a beat when arms wrapped around her stomach and yanked her back, sending a shrill out of her lips and the phone flying. “No, Johnny! Please don’t—” she gagged when Johnny’s hand covered her mouth and muffled her words.
He pulled her back and painfully squeezed her stomach, knocking the breath out of her. “You made a mistake, Princess, and now you have to pay for it.” He whispered with venom, springing such distaste into her mouth.
On the phone line the authorities spoke and Skye tried to scream, but Johnny slammed her against the door, crushing her body. She didn’t make a sound as she slumped to the ground, her head throbbing and her body shutting down. She could hardly breathe and all she could do was cry, tears resonating from her bloodied lips.
Johnny hung up the phone and pulled something out of his pocket—a knife. “Princess, it’s time for your payment.” He said around a deadly smirk.
Skye fell on her back and looked up at him, whimpering. She was amazed that she was still conscious, but she knew that consciousness wouldn’t be with her for very long. She coughed and blood trickled down her chin, along with the tears that poured from her eyes.
He fingered the sharp knife as if it was a toy, tracing fingers over the blade and twirling it between fingers. Looking at Skye, he walked towards her and lowered the knife. Chills instantly prickled her body and she couldn’t move, frozen in place, waiting for the end.
He dropped down on his knees and traced the knife over her arms, red lines appearing from underneath, and then down over her shirt. In one swift motion he slashed the knife against her fabric, ripping it and exposing her chest.
She closed her eyes as pain struck her body and embarrassment flooded through her—hating Johnny. “J—just—d—do—it.” She whispered, finding enough breath between a sob to speak.
He grinned and slashed the knife across her chest, chuckling as she let out a cry. “I don’t like it when you cry, Princess.” He said a little too pleasantly. His free hand yanked on her hair, causing her to grimace, and slammed her head against the floor again, with skull cracking force. Her eyes fluttered shut and her world went blank.

Strange New Him?

Johnny caressed Skye’s cold and frail cheek, whispering eerie words in her ears. “That’s a good girl, sleep now.” He said, brushing his finger around her chin and pulling her limp body into his arms. He lifted her off of the ground, her still body dangling in his arms, and brought her out of the office, setting her down on the bathroom floor to clean her off. Blood had spilled out of the thin slashes across her chest and arm, coloring the white tiles of the floor as he set her down.
He leapt to his feet, swiped a towel off of the counter, and hurried back into his office. Wiping away at the puddle of blood that had leaked onto the floor, he could feel the dirt of what he had done. He hadn’t wanted to kill her, just scare her and teach her a lesson, but he was starting to worry that maybe he had gone a little too far this time.
Standing up, he looked at his quick clean up job and smiled wearily. “You’ve really gone a little far—she’s different than what you ever could have imagined, Johnny.” He told himself, choking on laughter as he finished it.
He hurried back into the bathroom, tossing the bloodied towel into the hamper and grabbing a clean one. He crouched down next to her and wiped the blood off of her arm and floor, cringing as he smelled it. For someone who causes so much blood to spill, he’s never liked it. “It’s okay, Princess, I’m going to fix you up.” He told her motionless body in a hushed tone. Soothing her, he cleaned up the blood from her chest and tossed yet another bloodied towel into the hamper.
“Dirty and unclean blood,” he grumbled, scrubbing his hands clean of what little blood had gotten onto his hands in the sink. He dried his hands and looked down at her breaking down form, smiling faintly as he thought about how much she looked like her mother—aside from the vandalized frame. He thought she looked peaceful like that—unconscious—and he didn’t want to wake her from that peacefulness. He knew that his life with Leah and Skye was so much better than any time he spent in the life with Maria, yet he still kept placing himself in that life. He kept placing himself in the betrayal, and as far as he knew, it was all because of a few insecurities.
The doorbell rang, snapping him from his stare. He shook his head and tried to calm his suddenly quickly beating heart, maneuvering himself out of the bathroom and down the stairs. Anger coursed through his veins as he walked down those steps, worrying that the people at the door could somehow have been the authorities.
He stopped at the door, taking a deep breath and regaining what composure he had so many times used on Leah. Opening the door, he looked for the visitor, frowning when he realized it was a young man. “May I help you with something?” He greeted the boy, faking a small smile.
“Hey, uh—actually, I was just stopping by to say a few words to Skye. Is she home?”
Johnny leaned against the doorframe, blocking the boys’ view of the inside. “And you are?”
The boy laughed nervously, shrugging his shoulders and tucking his hands in his pockets. “Right, Sir. Jules, Jules Rane.” He informed him, reaching a hand out to shake Johnny’s.
“Jules,” Johnny inclined, tapping his finger against his chin thoughtfully, “as in Julian?”
For a moment, Jules was taken aback, but he covered his surprise with a crooked smile. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Skye’s not feeling well, you won’t be able to see her tonight.”
Jules suddenly looked worried, afraid that she had gotten hurt again. “Has she been home all day?”
“Yes, she has. She just came down with the flu a few hours ago.”
“The flu? Is she alright?” Jules asked, his eyebrows furrowing with worry.
“She’ll be fine, but no one can visit her right now, she has to get better.”
“Please, Sir, she’s a good friend. She would want to see me,” Jules pleaded, stepping a little closer to the door.
Johnny stood his ground, blocking the path for Jules, “I’m sorry, Julian, but she can’t see you right now. She’s ill.” He spoke the words with a patient warning. “Come back later.” He added, slipping behind the door and starting to close it.
Jules stopped him at the last second, blocking the door with his hand and poking his head through the gap in the door. “Please, Sir, I’d really like to talk to her.” He begged, his bold emeralds piercing into Johnny’s soul.
Only, Johnny didn’t have a good soul to pierce. “I’m sorry, Julian—not tonight.” With his last words, Jules slid back, defeat and worry pinching the nerves in his face. Johnny slid the lock in place and groaned, anger flailing in his body. He couldn’t stand Jules. He only saw Jules as an extra reason for trouble with Skye and that wasn’t acceptable to him.
Growling, he rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and hurried into Skye’s bathroom. She lay on the floor, the slight rise and fall of her chest calming his nerves. He couldn’t want for her to be suffering any more than she already was, and he certainly didn’t want for her