by Elena Monroe
If he thought I was a lesbian because I’m a feminist, I’m gonna junk punch him… don’t care if that is her baby daddy.
“Jus, we’re in love. For real.” Her confession was a pillowcase full of bricks.
I knew she was attracted to him and that they had finally fucked, but love? That’s another kind of beast.
Love isn't something I wanted to celebrate, when I only knew how painful it was, not the small joys of butterflies you’re supposed to get. I smiled politely and tried my hardest to look happy for her while I was thinking about how dangerous this could be for her heart.
“Help me make dinner?” I was pretty sure she could see discomfort written all over my face quickly turning into guilt as I stood there, pigeon toed and picking my cuticles.
Abigail knew how my parents dying left a hole the size of a heart in my chest, and she was trying to cure it by being a great best friend with the notion that platonic love can teach someone to love in different ways.
Jury was still out…
Dragging me behind the island, she started gathering stuff, while Grimm was still staring and circling us. She spoke up: “Don’t you have things to do? Like work? Working out? Baby books? Anything. We need girl talk, and it’s probably gonna center around your friend. Unless you… wanna year about his penis?”
Turning to me with a coy smile, I knew she was setting it up for me to throw it out of the park. “Oh, yeah, I totally get the nickname now... Vic the Dick is right. Super into licking, role play, anal… learned that last one this morning actually.”
Abigail’s mouth dropped, and I couldn’t hold back the laugh pouring from my mouth, realizing just how much she had actually missed while being captive. We did have a lot to catch up on.
“Wait, who's all this food for? We don’t need to cook this much. I promise I’m eating, just not homemade meals like when you were home.”
“The boys are having some meeting here later, and I figured if I’m cooking I’ll just make a shit ton for everyone.”
Great, the guys were headed straight for me, like a nuclear air missile, and I had no defenses. Fuck me.
KHAOS
Vic the Dick was harder to ignore when he was angry. He never called meetings, because frankly he didn’t give a fuck about help, support, or sharing information. Vic was a one man army, and he won without any help.
He didn’t need anyone.
I wandered around the kitchen with no real destination, considering it was Grimm’s, and I smelled pasta. No one had noticed me yet, having just skated my way in, and the girls were outside by a bonfire.
Exactly how I wanted.
If we were going to break the bad news to Vic, I wanted the seats reserved for very important people only. This audience was curated by yours truly.
Bowen walked in, offering me a fist, before making his way to the bar and pouring himself a drink.
“Tough day?” That was the understatement of the year, I thought, while I jumped onto the counter.
We all knew Bowen was straddled with the hardest job. We’d be lying if we said it didn’t change how we treated him—with kid gloves, not triggering the land mine.
“I don’t wanna talk about it. What is this shit about?”
“If her pussy tastes like a Starbursts or Warheads.” I smirked to myself, trying to celebrate quietly.
Without any warning, a hand slapped my cheek playfully and stayed there for a moment after. I’ve broken every bone in my body twice over. A little slap wasn’t going to faze me.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Vic stood in front of me in his work clothes and dominating frame.
“Question of the day: Does she taste like a pink Starburst or Warhead, Vic?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared at me with an intent to kill, and I squirmed. I’m human, after all. At least I could admit defeat, unlike Vic here.
“Warhead. Don’t let me catch you talking about her again, got it?”
I would heed his warning, for now… What I had done was so much better. Any minute now, he was going to realize that I was putting her in the same room as him on purpose. Love needed to be proved in order to build trust, and my plan was fool proof in making sure she was the one for Vic.
I could see how he looked at her—the sneaking into his office, the constant flirty banter, how protective he was of her… Our Vic was falling in love, and Justice was his proverbial trophy.
Hopping down from the island, I rounded it on my board, stopping at the bowls Abigail had put out and filled one with pasta. Abigail was everything Grimm wasn’t—homey, comfortable, and warm, which made her perfect for him. I sucked in one long inhale marinating in the goodness before the storm happened.
“Who the hell brought her here?” Vic was grabbing a water and must have glanced outside, seeing Justice sitting by the firepit with Abigail.
I rolled my lips inward, holding them down with my teeth, piling some meatballs on my pasta to stay quiet. Grimm came trucking from downstairs, just in time to rat me out, without a shirt and wet like he just showered. “The dumbass eating pasta… Who else?”
The energy from the other side of the kitchen was licking my body as I shoveled pasta past my lips.
This is the perfect last meal if I die tonight.
“Wanna explain anything?” I felt boxed in by his tone, even with the amount of space between us. He was all bark, no real bite though.
Mid fork full, I talked around the pasta, until it broke off in my mouth. “You clearly love her, so we need to know if she loves you too. It’s the perfect time.”
Grimm hadn’t been on Vic’s side of anything in years, not since changing into Grimm from Jason. He put a stop to becoming the Golden Boy when he pretty much gave the Clave the middle finger, doing and saying what he wanted with no consequences, because who punishes death?
Not this guy.
Casually putting more space between me and the now angry duo, I tootsie slid my way to the left, with Drake fully blaring only in my mind. “Ganging up on me now? Way to be loyal, Grimm.”
Grimm was silently giving me the third degree with his hypnotic stare that demanded pieces of your soul, but mine was long gone. “You can cause chaos everywhere else, but between the four of us? Hard limit. What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re in my house, eating my food, messing with my life now. We’re all connected.”
Throwing my hands up, I had no more to contribute. I knew what I was doing, and Vic was going to thank me later, no matter how Justice reacted. We needed to know if she was with us or against us, once and for all.
Wouldn’t be surprised if she was meant to burn it all down. She certainly had enough reason to hate us all.
We all forgot Bowen was actually here, until he finally spoke up, “Can we get this over with already?”
All looking in his direction, the sliding doors opened and laughter poured in with the heat of LA.
Finally, time to party.
Vic dropped the folder on the island and shot Grimm a look that read to get rid of them. I had other plans, and I threw my arms around their shoulders and made a Khaos sandwich. They were touching my wicked parts, and I wasn’t against how much that pissed them off, beyond me keeping them present for the meeting. “Wanna join our little meeting? Honorary members of the Clave now.”
“You really wanna die, don’t you?” We were on either end of the island, holding tightly onto very opposing positions. Vic didn’t like competition, and I was enemy number one now.
It didn’t take Justice long to notice her folder, and she moved towards him, picking it up like it would hold some new information. All of his attention broke off of me and onto her, the way it should be, pinning her in her place.
Watching her body relax, I could see whatever connection they had was right on track to become something threatening.
Love.
Grabbing more pasta, I let the guys spearhead the conversation, while I took it all in. That’s what I did: I planted the seeds
and chaos bloomed all around me.
Vic spoke first, but it was meant for Justice only, as his chest pressed against her back and she examined the folder more closely. “My dad was no help, so I called a meeting.”
Cute. He wanted to justify his actions to her. Guess I was right. How does that song go? Liar, liar, pants on fire?
“Pretty sure I suggested it, asshole,” I chimed in, and Grimm shot me a wide-eyed look as I pressed my palm into Abigail’s stomach. She jumped with a small smile taking over her face while she ate a giant meatball off her fork. Leaning down to her bump, I decided I could waste some time chatting up the kid, while they all grew accustomed to the talk that was lurking in the distance.
Abigail laughed at me saying, “What’s up?” to the fetus inside her, who probably hadn’t even grown ears yet.
“I don’t need you influencing my kid in the womb. Why did you suggest this? Can we get on with it?” Grimm was basically giving me permission to officially get this party started, so I decided to do just that.
Vic was still right behind Justice, when I leaned into the counter after saying bye to the fetus. “You wanted information, right? About Justice? What’s missing from her file?”
I let the room breathe before I spoke again. “Her parents were in the Hunt. Were being the operative word.”
The room was heavy with silence, and I almost wanted to bow, because Justice hadn’t moved.
Justice looked right at me. “What are you talking about? What’s the fucking Hunt? What is that? Where is it?” Her rapid fire questions landed on a room of suddenly mute people. None of us wanted to touch that with a ten-foot pole.
It figures that death himself would be the one to explain how certain death happens there. “It’s… fucked up. Every year, the four families get together, rub fucking elbows, and hunt people who are problems for us—the ones who pose a threat.”
Justice’s face was disgusted in a way that was justified. “A threat? What kind of threat? Hunt how?”
All valid questions.
Stepping in, I knew Grimm was going to drown her in a lack of details and a bluntness that would be traumatic. At least if I answered, there would be some grace.
“Anyone who goes against the Clave: politicians we can’t control, activists who fight against our pull, journalists who leak information, cops who won’t take our money... anyone who isn’t with us is against us, and our families put a fun twist on disposing of them.”
Justice was quiet and still, in this eerie way that I didn’t expect she would be when she finally learned how her parents had died. Studying her face, I didn’t see one crack under all that reserve. That’s when I wondered if the toughness was a mask or had we truly turned her to stone. They’re a perfect match—both unwilling to give in to looking weak.
The folder flew across the room, and the two pages inside dislodged midair, when his voice got so loud it rivaled a scream.
“Fuck!” Vic shouted at no one specifically as his fist pounded the granite of the island. I had never seen Vic overcome with emotions, and it was stunning in the way a car wreck puts you at a pause to watch it happen.
Justice didn’t even flinch, and it made my features screw up in confusion.
The three of us exchanged looks, quietly assessing the various reactions, when Grimm spoke up, feeling obligated to say something, otherwise who knows how long we’d be in his safe space.
“Justice, we’re-”
She cut him off mid apology, at least it sounded like one might be coming. She probably saved him from making a fool of himself.
You had to be a certain amount of human to make apologies, and these guys were missing the mark.
“So your parents killed my parents, because they were a problem for the Clave?” She wasn’t even afraid to look us in the eye, and it felt like a guaranteed death once she got past the shock.
Vic’s grip on the slab of granite had his knuckles turning white, and his head dropped below his shoulders, waiting for confirmation.
“Someone at the hunt killed your parents. We can’t say who. We were only kids then,” I answered for the room.
“Okay. Well, at least I know the truth now.” Her voice was flat, and I could sense the numbness from her when Vic combusted for her instead.
Throwing his phone against the wall out of nowhere we all jumped. “You all fucking knew?!”
His wild eyes scanned each one of us, waiting for someone to lie or make an excuse when that wasn’t our style. None of us were saints, and we knew that better than anyone else.
VIC
My chest was heaving, caging breath that wasn’t exhaling past my lips flattened into a straight line, too pissed off to look casual.
This was defeat, and I didn’t like the sting radiating all over my body whispering, Loser.
Justice was so still I thought the news killed her where she stood, but I couldn’t let that thought seep too far into me.
I needed answers, reasons, justification as to why this was kept from me. I was more reliable and more committed than any of them, yet I was the one in the dark.
Grimm shot Khaos a look that said, shut up, before I make you. I knew that look well, and normally, it meant devious behavior wasn’t too far behind. “We were kids, Vic. We weren’t being fed information or given a seat at the table.”
Slamming my fist down, I asked, “Then why didn’t I know? Why is her folder redacted? What else isn’t being said?”
My ears were ringing, and I heard laughter bubbling up next to me.
Bowen.
My confidant.
The one I trusted was laughing at my pain that never broke through my surface.
He didn’t even look up from the bottom of his glass, while he continued laughing and had all eyes staring at him. “You’re acting like we’re saints, brother. Why don’t you ask yourself why this is bothering you now.”
I was shaking with so much rage I was planning to wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze the life out of him.
We weren’t saints, but I was the only one being kept in the dark. That was just unacceptable.
Wanting to touch Justice, comfort her in any way that I could, I stopped myself. Just standing this close to her felt… wrong. I was the source of her heartache.
“We’re leaving. Grab your bag.” If nothing else, I could provide her with an exit strategy.
She didn’t even argue, and she finally made a move to grab her bag that had been dropped by the door. Grimm grabbed my arm, stopping me from joining her as we were exiting.
“You don’t wanna dig this up, Vic. I know we don’t see eye-to-eye, but I’m not going to betray you by outing your secrets.”
Grimm may not be on some short list for my trust or in my good graces after asking for my blood, but he wasn’t someone who bucked against logic. Above everything, he would do what was logical.
Apparently logic was keeping something from me, and I had a feeling this wasn’t it.
I always got what I wanted, and this time wasn’t going to be any different.
Justice was leaning against my Porsche, still stoic and unemotional. I was prepared to deal with a mess once I saw her outside with Abigail.
She was scarily okay.
Opening her door for her, she slid into the passenger seat holding her bag on her lap with not even a small thanks. Lucky for her, I was a gentleman regardless.
Sitting down behind the wheel, I felt the car start up under my hands. “You don’t have to be tough. I may not do relationships, but I can take it…”
I wanted her to feel safe losing it the way I was for her.
I was pretty sure a girl like Justice never truly felt safe. She was too much of her own hero to need saving from anyone else. Before I pulled out of the driveway, I twisted to look behind me, taking in one long look at her, when I saw the one tear rolling down her scarlet burned cheek.
The single tear drop was full of control as it glistened, reflecting the garage lights that turned on w
hen anything moved outside Grimm’s house. I couldn’t blame him, when the precious cargo was a pregnant girl he had given his bleeding heart to.
Rubbing away the single trail down her cheek, still quiet and chest moving normally, she sat up against the leather, like the inhale was all she needed to control the feelings.
Envying her, I pushed down on the gas, climbing the driveway and heading for her place. “I’ll take you home.”
“I don’t wanna go home. Your place,” she demanded, and I didn’t even think of not complying. Whatever she needed, I would have stolen from the world to give to her.
My place in LA was closer to the immoral behavior I was condoning. It was high enough to convince myself that maybe I would be getting into Heaven, but if I was honest, we all knew we were a long drop the other way.
Pulling into the garage connected to the building, I pulled into my parking space that was reserved with a name plate stuck to the cement. Everywhere I went was on reserve, making my life easier to be what they wanted, with all the extra spare time on my hands.
Looking over at Justice, she was staring at me. “Really? Reserved for Rockefeller? It’s a little extra.”
The rest of the garage was pretty empty, but it was for the simple fact that the five floors below me were also currently empty since no one parked this high up. Nevertheless, I knew what she meant—it was extra.
“Just because I make a lot of the rules doesn’t mean I make all of them.” Getting out of the car, I jogged to her side, grasping the door handle before she could attempt to open it.
“I’m pretty sure no one makes a move without your stamp of approval.”
Shit talking Justice was better than the kind of silence we drove here in before I parked. That kind of silence was painful and made me feel helpless when it came to her.
I didn’t like being helpless the same amount I didn’t like losing.
The entire elevator ride up to the penthouse Justice stood against the opposite side of the elevator, just staring at me, wordless, with her arms crossed over her chest.
