by Skyla Madi
Although Emily harbors no ill feelings or jealousy toward Red, I can see the feeling isn’t mutual. Red’s eyebrows are drawn in, accentuating the look of distaste in her eyes. The look on her face is the kind of look I expected Emily to show—I wanted Emily to show.
Where Red is fit and slightly masculine, Kitten is soft and feminine. Kitten has natural black hair as opposed to Ivy—or Eva’s—fake, red waves where her dark regrowth is visible, less than an inch off her scalp. Red is cosmetically beautiful, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but Emily is on the other end of the spectrum—a natural beauty. Her look is understated...delicate. While Red looks like the kind of girl who’d kick your ass if you dissed her, Emily looks fragile, like she’d burst into tears.
“I’m Ava. That’s Belle,” Red responds, her tone flat and unwelcoming.
Emily gives me a strange look, a look that says ‘you weren’t even close’ and I shrug. I was close enough.
“You gonna join us for the next round?” Graham asks, waving his empty cup.
Emily shakes her head, her skin paling. “God no. No more alcohol for me.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I was looking for Jai, but since he’s a little busy, I’ll talk to him later.”
Graham’s thick fingers snatch Emily’s wrist and he pulls her toward the table. Under his grip, her skin turns white from the pressure. It takes a lot of effort on my part not to snap his fingers. Fuck, I want to break his fingers.
“I’d watch how hard you pull her, Pops,” I warn him.
He pulls his hand back and raises it with the other, exposing the palms of his hands, surrendering apparently.
“Sorry.” He smirks. “Didn’t realize she was so important.”
Ignoring him, I bend low and pull a crate out from underneath the table. I kick it closer to my own crate and far enough from Graham. It’s not about importance. It’s about personal space and respect. I’m sure he meant nothing by it, but it doesn’t matter. He’s lucky he still has fingers.
Chuckling nervously, Emily hooks her shoe through the gap in the crate and tugs it closer to her, sitting exactly between Graham and I. Happy with Emily’s placement, Red tugs on the pocket of my pants and smiles.
Frowning at Emily, who’s doing an awesome job at avoiding eye contact with me, I lower myself onto my crate. The one right beside Ava.
From God knows where, Graham plucks a few bills and slaps them down on the table before sliding them toward Emily.
“Since you have plans to stay sober, we’ll have another round.”
She arches a brow at him. “Why am I getting the drinks?”
“…’Cause you won’t spill ‘em.”
“Fair enough.”
As she lifts herself up from her crate, I push mine back. I go to lift myself off my chair, but Red’s warm, slender fingers clamp down on my forearm. I glance down at her hand then at her face. What the hell?
“She’s a big girl. She doesn’t need help. Right, Emily?”
I look at Emily. Her dark eyes are zeroed in on the hand that’s so obviously claiming me and with a hard swallow, she nods.
“Right.”
We make eye contact and I have trouble reading her. Normally, she’s an open book, but in this moment she’s clouded. I see...curiosity, mostly, but there’s also something deeper, something...darker. Good. At least I’m getting something out of her.
Then, she turns and heads toward the bar.
***
I don’t know how many cups of whiskey I’ve downed in order to make this whole situation tolerable, but I hate it. I hate every second of it. Every time I get up to leave, Ava or Graham force me to stay, force me to have another drink. I hold my tongue and stay seated, but only for Kitten’s sake.
Ava wants me that much is obvious. God knows how many times I’ve felt her fingers dance up my inner thigh, and if I leave now, dragging Emily in tow, I’ll offend her. Then she’ll get bitter, and most likely hold a grudge. When that happens, Emily becomes a target; a target Ava will try to eliminate in the cage, and I can’t let that happen. So I play nice. I drink the alcohol, smile when required and occasionally flirt with Ava to sate her pathetic ego. It becomes a boring routine—sip, smile, compliment, sip, smile and laugh at a joke from time to time.
It’s maddening. Listening to story after story, joke after joke, about shit I don’t care about is doing my head in. I contemplate flipping the table and killing them all with a loose panel of wood to end the torture, but then Emily stands up—my saving fucking grace—and I waste no time leaping from my chair, forcing Ava’s hand from my thigh. I stumble into the table, spilling Graham’s drink. He curses at me, but my brain rolls at the same time, and his words go unheard.
Yay.
“Jesus, Jai. Drink much?” Kitten chastises, her warm hands wrapping around my bicep.
I blink a few times. When did I get so drunk?
“I should take him to lie down.” Ava offers, her voice sounding far behind me.
“No. He needs to sleep it off.” Emily responds in a clipped tone. “In his own bed.” She adds for good measure.
I can’t help a snort and she pinches my skin between her fingers, making me yelp. I smile, as I hunch and wrap my arm around her neck.
“You’re a good friend, making sure I don’t get molested in my vulnerable state.”
She peers up at me, her eyebrow cocked. I try to keep most of my weight off her body, but my feet keep doing this weird stumbling thing as we walk away and her small frame ends up taking the bulk of it.
“What are you even saying?”
“Ivy. She—”
“—Ava.”
“Eva. That’s what I said.”
Snorting and biting back a smile, Kitten wraps her warm around my waist and tries to haul me along.
“Her name,” she grunts as we exit the bar, “is Ava.”
“Oh. Right. Avy totally would have grinded up on this if I’d let her.”
“Grinded up on what?”
I point at my body. “This.”
She laughs. Hard. Underneath my arm her body shakes, and I like the way her eyes crinkle at the corners. Most of my weight comes back to me as her body weakens with laughter. Funny enough, I end up supporting her weight as she falls into a state of hysterics. It’s catching, the way her lips stretch and curve, exposing straight, white teeth. I find myself mimicking her, laughing until my stomach hurts. I haven’t laughed this hard in a long time.
“You are too much fun,” she sighs, her chest hiccupping with a remaining giggle. “You should try being funny more often. Less serious. It looks good on you.”
I can’t remember the last time I felt I could have fun...before Jacqueline died, maybe. From the moment I nicknamed Emily ‘Kitten’, that’s when I felt that spark again. The spark of excitement—of fun. I miss it. I miss the warmth of it all.
Emily angles her head, a curious smile curving her lips. “What?”
“Nothing,” I lie, shaking my head. I swallow and hold her close as the words I want to say go unsaid.
I really like you, Kitten.
Green
Emily
“You smell nice,” Jai mutters, smiling as I help him onto his cot.
By help, I mean I let go when I think he’s close enough. He falls backward onto his bed and it complains under his weight, leaving his legs to hang over the edge. I’d pick them up and help him move them to join the rest of his body on the cot, but I know exactly how heavy those bad boys are, and his comfort isn’t worth my spine. A few second in, he closes his eyes and his body goes still.
Stupid ass.
He shouldn’t have consumed so much booze. I watched him drink cup after cup, just waiting for him to slow down, but the more they talked, they more he drank. And Ava. God. Don’t get me started. It took a lot of control not to snap her pretty little fingers clean off her hand. Lucky for her, I’m not a rabid animal who likes to stake claim by pissing on the things I like. It’s p
robably a good thing. Ava’s a girl, sure, but she’s a strong girl. Her entire body is fit and defined. I bet she can crush a watermelon with her thighs. I mean, even her neck has muscles.
“What’d Skull want?”
Jai’s booming voice pulls me from my thoughts and I launch at him. I into him, clamping my hand over his mouth. He reacts slowly, flinching when my hand has already covered his mouth for two seconds.
“You wanna say it any louder?” I whisper harshly, terrified of someone overhearing.
Before I left Skull, he made it very clear what would happen to me if I betrayed him, and quite frankly, I like my nipples where they are.
“What’d he want?” Jai mumbles against my hand.
I pull it away, exposing his full lips. Underneath my body he shifts, but I don’t move.
“He wanted to know if you and I are on good terms.”
I neglect to tell Jai that Skull knows I’m an intruder…that I told him I was an intruder. I also neglect to bring up the fact that Skull mentioned his brother. It’d do nothing but aggravate him for no reason.
“And what’d you tell him?”
“I told him we are.”
His blue eyes search mine. I wonder what he can see. Does he trust me? Does he think I’m withholding information just as he is from me? Skull didn’t tell me what Jai is, what he does for a living, but whatever it is, it puts Skull on edge.
“You wouldn’t intentionally keep information from me, would you?” He asks, his voice firm and sober.
Our eyes remain locked, a million volts of tension crackling between us. I wouldn’t keep important information from him, but anything else, he doesn’t need to know.
“No. And I expect the same in return.”
He nods. “Of course.”
He says it with confidence, but it’s not enough to convince me. I can feel the dark seeds of doubt that Skull planted in my brain starting to grow. The things he hinted at...I’m not an idiot. I can tell when someone is trying to manipulate me, and Skull is definitely trying to pull me onto his side. I’m ashamed to admit I left his room feeling like I didn’t know Jai at all…and I guess in hindsight, I don’t.
His stare flicks over my face and his eyes become clouded as his brows pull together. “You don’t believe me?”
“Skull really wants to find out what you’re up to. He’s rattled. He doesn’t know if he should just kill you now or give you the benefit of the doubt…there are only a few things I can think of that would make someone like Skull think twice about killing someone.”
“And what are they?”
I shake my head. A conversation with a drunk man is a waste of breath. Will he even remember it in the morning? “It doesn’t matter right now.”
I attempt to lift myself off of him, but his large hands clamp down on my biceps and he tugs me closer, until our faces are barely an inch apart. My heart races in my chest, pumping faster by the second.
“You can trust me.”
Can I?
“I’d never do anything to betray your trust.”
Wouldn’t you?
“I can keep you safe.”
Can you?
I want to ask him all of the questions that flick through my mind, repeating themselves every few minutes, but I don’t. What does he owe me? He doesn’t have an obligation to look after me, to keep me safe. We barely know each other...and it scares the shit out of me because I care for him. I call him a friend.
“I believe you,” I tell him. But I just can’t rely on you.
My whole life I’ve fought for myself. I’ve kept myself safe. Trust can’t be broken when you only have yourself to depend on. At the end of the day, if it comes down to me or his brother, he’ll choose family. Family comes first…and I’m not family.
A sad smile touches his lips and, strangely, my chest grows heavy. “No, you don’t.”
I look away from his face. The look in his eyes...it’s too much. Why does it make me feel so terrible?
“This morning...you asked me why you were in my bed. You wanna know?”
Another nightmare, maybe. Funny enough, I work in a hospital and yet I’ve seen more death down here. Jai and I have never spoken of my nightmares. He wakes me up halfway through, then offers me comfort. That’s it. That’s how I like it.
“Not if you had to get drunk off your ass to tell me.”
That’s never a good sign.
“You were crying in your sleep. Your face was wet, your body trembling—”
I look back to his face, into his concerned blue eyes. “Jai—”
“—you were sobbing for help. I didn’t have to comfort you. You wouldn’t have known if I didn’t, but I chose to...because your soul needed it. I told you I’d look after you and I’ve stood by that promise even when I don’t have to...even when you’re not aware of it.”
His warm breath blows over my lips, warming my skin.
“Why?” I ask. “Why even bother?”
He takes a pause. I don’t think I’ve never seen a drunk man choose his words carefully. He glances at my lips, his eyelids suddenly heavy.
“Because we need each other.”
Because we need each other? He needs me too? I’ve always felt like I’m the only one clinging onto this friendship because I need him to survive, to get out of here alive. I should thank my lucky stars Skull depends on me to get information from Jai because that makes me useful, and as long as I’m useful I’m needed.
Jai’s gaze dances dangerously between my eyes and my lips. “I want to kiss you.”
Air is sucked from my lungs as his left hand moves south to my lower back and the right moves north toward my face. We always find ourselves in this situation when one of us, or both, is under the influence. What that says about our relationship, I don’t know, but it’s a pattern that needs to be broken. Still, alcohol isn’t the reason I don’t want him to kiss me tonight. I shudder, recalling the way Skull’s tongue felt against mine.
“Stop,” I whisper as both his lips graze mine, making my head spin.
He pulls back. “What’s wrong?”
I swallow hard. I wanted to avoid telling him about Skull, but he should know if he’s going to put his tongue in the same place Skull had a few hours earlier. I’d want to know if I was about to share spit with my enemy.
“Kiss me and you kiss Skull too.”
Jai’s brows furrow and uneasiness rises in my belly as he tips his head slightly confused. “What does that mean?”
I give him a few long seconds to process what I said. It’d be endearing to watch if this damn anxiety wasn’t forcing blood to surge through my veins, and if my lungs slowed to normal pace for a second. Realization hits him then, thinning his eyes into aggressive slits that grow darker by the second.
“He...” His nose crinkles on the bridge and his lips turn downwards as he grimaces. “He kissed you?”
“Kissed is such a nice word, let’s not ruin it,” I say—a dry attempt at humor. “It’s more like he invaded my mouth with his tongue.”
I can’t read him, but underneath me his body tense and completely still. Then it explodes. He explodes.
In the next heartbeat, Jai’s on his feet and I’m alone on the cot. The hairs at the back of my neck prickle in alarm as I sit up and brush wild strands of hair from my face. He looks bigger than usual as he paces back and forth.
“Jai, what are you doing?”
He ignores me. I mean, I expected him to be mad, but not this mad. He breathes heavy, his nostrils flaring, his eyes blazing with anger, his fists clenching aggressively at his sides.
“Did you hear me?”
“I heard you,” He snaps, startling me. “I heard you loud and fucking clear.”
He scares the hell out of me. The look on his face I’ve only seen once before. It was during round one, when he was beating his opponent to a pulp. I didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now, especially now it’s directed at me. Still, as my insides knot in fear I keep my face pl
acid, my voice calm.
“Then answer me. What are you doing?”
Jai snaps forward and I jolt back, slamming into the concrete wall. A burning sensation slashes across the middle of my back, but I’m too shocked to feel it for long.
“How could you let him put his mouth on you?”
I splutter, like an idiot, before I find my voice. “Me? What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t stop him from tattooing me, what makes you think I could stop him from kissing me?”
With a growl, he turns around and storms toward his bag at the end of his bed. Forgoing the zipper, he rips it open and plucks a black object from it. That’s when I see it; the gun in his hand. I freeze, gaping wide-eyed. Where the hell did he get that? In a swift, almost expert, movement, he drops the clip and checks the bullets. They’re all there. He slides them back into the hand piece of the gun and pulls back the metal plate at the top until something clicks into place. A bullet, no doubt.
“Holy shit. You have a fucking gun?” I whisper, harshly.
I’d ask him where he got it, but that’s the least of my concerns at the moment. I jump off the bed.
“What exactly do you plan on doing with it?”
“I’m going to bury a bullet deep in the back of Skull’s fucking head.”
He turns toward the exit, his movements no longer tired and sloppy, but precise and purposeful. Before he exits into the main tunnel, I slip in front of him and push on his large chest. He doesn’t move back, but he does stop, and that’s good enough for me.
“Don’t be stupid, Jai. They’ll kill you—and me. Do you want to die?” I grasp at straws, knowing that someone under the influence of alcohol is harder to convince than someone fully in control of their emotions. “What about Joel? What about your little sister, Jessica? She’ll be alone. She’ll have no one.”
He looks me in the eyes, the gun still firm in his hand. “Did you enjoy it?”
I angle my head. Enjoy it? Enjoy what? “The kiss?”
Jai blows a frustrated puff of air from his checks and attempts to step around me, but I slide in front of him, pushing harder on his chest.
“No,” I urge, “How could I? It was after he almost stabbed me in the hand with a fork, knocked me off my chair and threatened to kill me. It’s not exactly a sure-fire way to a girl’s heart.”
