Keep From Falling (Markson Grove Series Book 1)

by Amy Vanessa Miller

  “You sure it’s the right place?” Spencer asks, uncertainly.

  “It’s the right place. Come on.” I take the lead and cut through the narrow alleyway to the back of the building. Once we reach the solid black door, I knock on it four times like Isabelle instructed, and take a step back, waiting for a response. There isn’t any. After a moment, I step toward the door again but Spencer grabs my arm and pulls me back.

  “She said four times, babygirl, not eight.”

  He’s right. I stay where I am, biting my lip impatiently as I wait for someone to respond.

  About a minute later, a small slot slides open near the top, revealing to us that the sturdy door is of the speakeasy variety.

  “Password,” a small female voice demands as her hazel eyes peer out at us.

  “Zeus,” we reply in unison, and she slides the speakeasy slot closed. After another minute of waiting, the door finally opens and we hurry inside.

  “Welcome to The Onyx. Please name your house membership,” a man standing behind a very posh looking desk says without looking away from his computer screen. He’s wearing a business suit and his dark hair is slicked back. Everything about him looks important.

  When neither of us answers him, he looks up from his screen and shoots us an annoyed look. “Judging from your attire, I have a pretty good idea which house.”

  “Misfit,” Spencer says, seeming to catch on.

  The man types something into the keyboard. “Alias?” he asks.

  Spencer hesitates. He doesn’t want me to know. “The Forsaken,” he says eventually in a hush.

  What? Did he say The Forsaken?

  I’m shocked by the response. I’ve never known what Spencer’s persona was before this very moment and out of respect, I’ve never asked. But I’ve heard of The Forsaken and what he does. And what I know doesn’t match up with who I know Spencer to be.

  He can’t be The Forsaken, it doesn’t make sense.

  I look to Spencer with astonished eyes, but his guarded glance tells me that now isn’t the time to talk about it.

  The man smiles a toothy grin and motions for someone off in the shadows to approach us. “He’s clear,” he says to the tall, bulky guy. He turns to me next. “House?”

  “Misfit,” I reply quietly.

  “Alias?”

  “The Goddess,” I say, and his brow arches up as a smirk emerges on his face. He’s heard of me. I can’t say that I’m surprised, although I have to admit that I’m a bit embarrassed.

  “Their clearance covers the basement only, escort them both after they check their belongings.”

  We dig into our pockets and remove all of our identifying belongings as well as our phones. We know the routine, even though I know that at the mansion in Markson Grove the door check workers let Spencer keep his phone, apparently he doesn’t have that type of clearance here, though.

  “In the same deposit box?” the desk keeper asks.

  “The same is fine,” Spencer tells him uneasily. I can tell that this place makes Spencer nervous. Their security is so much more intimidating than the security at the mansion. They have something here to protect, something much more than we have there.

  Once our stuff is checked, and the desk keeper hands over a white bracelet with our deposit box number printed on it, the mystery man from the shadows leads us down a long hallway till we reach two men guarding a closed door.

  “Misfit. Basement clearance only,” he tells the two guards who pull out red bracelets and put them on us without saying a word. They then proceed to frisk us top to bottom before opening the door and motioning for us to go inside.

  I look to Spencer hesitantly before stepping into the narrow stairwell that leads into the basement. Isabelle said Parker would be down here fighting, but I can’t hear a sound. What if this was all just an elaborate trick to lure us into some sick establishment for their own disturbing amusement? What if this is something right out of the movie Hostel? I shiver and instinctively reach for Spencer’s hand. He takes it into his and cautiously leads the way down the stairs.

  Once we reach the bottom, we are faced with another solid door in front of us. He grabs the giant lever to open it and when it doesn’t budge, pounds his fists on the door instead. A moment later the door swings open, blasting us with a gush of air filled with the stench of alcohol and sweat. Music is blaring from all corners of the large basement, the base pounding into the floors so loud that I can feel the vibrations in my feet. How is it possible that we didn’t feel or hear any of this from just the other side of that door?

  There are so many different types of people standing before me drinking and socializing. But it only takes me a moment to realize that each and every one of them, in spite of their very distinct differences in appearance, are bound together by one common thread. They are all incredibly excited about something that is about to happen, and I have a feeling that something has to do with Parker and Tris.

  A man reaches for our wrists to check our bracelets and then motions for us to continue on into the crowd.

  “Who did Isabelle tell us to look for?” I yell loudly over the music.

  “The games hostess?” he replies in the form of a question. But games hostess sounds right, I think that’s what she had said.

  I look around the excited crowd of people and after a few moments turn back to Spencer. “How are we supposed to find her? There are hundreds of people here,” I say. He gives me an uneasy nod, telling me that he’s thinking the exact same thing.

  We begin pushing our way through the crowd, trying to find an entryway that might lead us to a fighting arena. Isabelle called the person we are looking for a ‘games hostess’ and I can’t help but wonder what she had meant by that. At the time, I brushed it off as a person who runs the fights, but the more time I spend in this place and around these overly exuberant people, the more I begin to question what the word ‘game’ means to the members of The Onyx. Could they be so sadistic as to want to watch someone beat someone else to death as a form of entertainment?

  “We’re looking for the games hostess,” Spencer says to a pretty girl with red hair who’s standing in front of a large blue door. She smiles and kisses him on the cheek, her green eyes gleaming brightly at me as she does so. She leans into his ear as I shoot her a scowl. What the hell is she doing? She doesn’t take those piercing emerald eyes off of me as she tells Spencer her secret. I hope it’s an answer to the question he asked her, but her strange behavior makes me not hold my breath in the matter. She’s high on something fierce, and I’m more than sure it’s MDMA.

  The girl continues to stare at me expectantly as Spencer’s face grows pale and uncertain. He turns to me and over the loud roar of music yells a sentence that chills me to the core.

  “She says Dimitri wants to see you.”

  I look at her with wide eyes, unable to hide my fear and confusion. “Who are you?” I demand.

  “I’m the messenger,” she laughs.

  “Do you know the games hostess?”

  “Yes.”

  “I need to speak to her.”

  “The games hostess is not available. She’s organizing a very important event that’s about to start any minute,” she replies with a mocking grin.

  “I’m not going to see Dimitri without Parker,” I say to Spencer and then turn back to face the red-haired girl. “Do you know where The Phoenix is?”

  She nods.

  “Can you bring me to him? I need to see him first. Please.”

  She frowns and then lets out a long sigh. “Come with me,” she says after a moment, her smile completely faded from her face. She opens the door behind her and motions me inside.

  I reach for Spencer’s hand and grasp it so tightly that I’m sure it stops the blood from circulating through it. He’s coming with me; I don’t give a fuck what this girl or anyone else has to say about it.

  Luckily, either she is already aware that Spencer and I are a packaged deal or she simply doesn’t care
because she doesn’t utter a word about me tugging him along.

  Things are much quieter behind the door she is guarding. She leads us into a large room with bright lights and cold, circulating air. In the center of the room is a tall, looming cage that is completely closed-in with two doors on either side of the cube, and sliding latches on each door. It’s blatantly clear to me that once someone is placed inside this massive cage, they are locked inside with no chance of getting out till whatever ‘game’ the games hostess had planned, has run its course.

  Upon further inspection, I see that the cage isn’t empty. Tris’ limp body lies on the ground, unconscious. I feel my heart begin to pound hard in my chest as that thought settles in my mind. Parker is the one who brought him here.

  “The Goddess of my little Misfit Mansion! I heard rumors that you are The Phoenix’s one and only true love and I’ve been dying to meet you!” A thick accent I can’t quite place bellows from somewhere passed the giant cage, and I squint my eyes in search of its source.

  “Where’s Parker?” I call out across the room, still trying to find the source of the voice I can only assume belongs to the infamous Dimitri.

  “Come on now, escort our special guest and her friend over to me. There’s no need for shouting, I can’t have my naughty Culpeo waking up before it is time now, can I?”

  The Culpeo. That’s the first time I’ve ever heard the name of Tris’ Misfit persona. I wonder to myself what it means.

  The red haired girl motions for us to follow her, leading us passed the cage and up a platform where Dimitri is sitting on a large throne fit for royalty. I’m immediately taken aback at how young he appears. I was expecting to see a hard looking older man in his fifties or sixties, not an amused, twenty-something man with an endearing smile.

  He laughs the minute he sees the look of shock and confusion on my face. “I am not what she expected,” he says to a beautiful, bronze-skinned woman sitting next to him. She smiles a guarded, Mona Lisa smirk.

  “Let me guess, you thought I’d be older,” he says to me.

  I nod.

  “I get that a lot.” He motions for the red-haired girl to leave us, and she quietly walks down the platform toward the exit. Once she’s out of view, he turns to Spencer. “And who’s this strapping young lad, The Forsaken, is it?” he asks, shooting the woman sitting beside him a mischievous grin. “He has the chiseled features of a Greek God, just your type isn’t he, my love?”

  The woman chuckles, “He’s certainly beautiful,” she says.

  “And very much gay,” Spencer adds with a snarl.

  Dimitri and the woman instantly roar in a fit of laughter. “Is that a fact?” Dimitri asks with a twinkle in his eye. It’s clear that he’s heard of The Forsaken and knows what goes along with that name. He shakes his index finger at Spencer. “I like you,” he says. “You’re snappy, like my Phoenix.”

  “Yeah, speaking of your Phoenix, or as we like to call him, Parker, where is he?” Spencer asks.

  “Oh, he’ll be here any minute. I’m sure word has gotten to him by now that his little Goddess is paying me a visit.” Dimitri grins, and as if to prove just how well he knows Parker, the door flies open as soon as the words leave his mouth.

  An aggressively angry Parker storms over to us.

  “Dimitri!” He growls.

  “Ah, there he is!” Dimitri says joyfully, clasping his hands together and ignoring Parker’s aggression. “You’re just in time my Phoenix, your Goddess was just about to explain to me how it is she came to have those bruises and gashes on her face. I truly hope you don’t beat this beautiful creature for your pleasure.” He smiles at Parker in a patronizing manner.

  Parker reaches the platform and pulls me into his protective arms, away from Dimitri. “She’s my everything,” Parker replies, allowing his vulnerability to show. It scares him that Dimitri has me here. “I would never do anything like that to her.”

  “Then who?”

  “Who do you think? And I nearly killed him for it when it happened.”

  “Pity you didn’t. Although, he’s here now, so at least you’ve finally come to your senses. You know how I feel about the abuse of women.”

  “I’m aware,” Parker replies guardedly.

  “Why didn’t you bring him to me immediately?”

  “I was going to take care of his punishment myself, I thought I could spare your time in the matter.”

  “Sounds to me like you were trying to spare his life, yet again. Why does this boy mean so much to you?”

  “We have a… unconventional history,” Parker confesses.

  “Are you finally ready to let that history go?” Dimitri asks.

  “Parker,” I say in a hushed whisper and he squeezes my hand in acknowledgement, but he doesn’t turn to look at me. He’s too busy keeping his steady gaze on Dimitri.

  “Yes,” Parker returns, “I officially relinquish all of my responsibility of him. Tonight I discovered that he’s taken video of private affairs from the mansion and has given the images to a non-member. That deception falls onto him and only him. I refuse to take responsibility for it. I knew nothing of it until tonight.”

  “Is that a fact? Well, he certainly has been a little shit hasn’t he?” Dimitri says with a disproving frown.

  “You don’t want to do this,” I say to Parker, trying everything in my power to get him to reconsider selling his soul to the devil, so to speak. He won’t forgive himself if he goes through with this.

  He turns away from Dimitri and lifts my chin so that I am looking into his soulful eyes. “You were right on the bus earlier,” he tells me. “It doesn’t have to be me to do it. But I also know it has to happen, he’s out of control and it will only get worse. I know you know that.”

  “I know it,” I reply quietly. I’m becoming very aware that his mind is completely made up on this matter, and there’s nothing to be said or done to change it.

  I can’t save him from this.

  “Please, just tell me that this doesn’t change anything between us,” he pleads, seeing the sadness radiate from my eyes. He’s fearful that the sadness I am feeling means I’ve decided to walk away from him again.

  I shake my head. “Never. I’m yours. No matter what.”

  He kisses me on the lips, my words giving him the comfort he so desperately needs.

  “I just adore these two!” Dimitri roars gleefully, interrupting our moment. “Don’t they remind you of us, my love?” he asks his companion next to him.

  She nods but doesn’t smile. “They have a fire one rarely sees anymore. It would be a shame to destroy that,” she says pointedly, and Dimitri narrows his eyes slightly.

  The way she says those words makes a pang of panic in my gut emerge. Something isn’t right here. Dimitri is being too nice, thing are going too smoothly.

  The entrance at the far end of the room opens with a loud clang, crowds of people beginning to file in one after another, quickly taking their places around the cage. Their excited chatter and exuberance makes me look to Parker uneasily. His facial expression is one of worry like mine, and it does nothing to comfort me.

  Tris awakens then, rising to his feet the minute he realizes he’s being held captive in a large cage with spectators by the hundreds crowding in around him. They’re all here, waiting for a brutal spectacle where he is the star. The excitement radiating from these people is electric, and it makes me sick to my stomach. How can they think this is ok? How can they want to watch the brutal murder of a human being? I shake my head, bringing my hand to my mouth in disbelief.

  Parker takes my hand into his, and very calmly guides me down the platform toward the exit. “Come on,” he says, urging Spencer to follow.

  As he guides us through the crowd, however, I can’t keep my eyes off of Tris. He looks confused, like he’s waking from a nightmare and can’t be sure what is a dream and what isn’t. Realization seems to strike him quickly, though, his face contorting into a teary-eyed look of panic the min
ute reality finally sinks in.

  His eyes find us in the crowd, and I can see the pleading look radiating from them. His jaw is clenched tight, attempting to keep his features fearless, but I can see the fear.

  I turn away, looking to Parker, and it saddens me to see a pained expression on his face. He lowers his head in order to avoid Tris’ gaze and continues on, now pulling me even more urgently toward the exit.

  Bree

  Lying in the double bed, squished between Evan’s and Adrienne’s bodies, I struggle to maintain a semblance of calm in spite of how fucked up this entire night is turning out to be. Evan and I are no more, and yet here we are, lying in bed next to one another with our bodies pressed together intimately.

  He is asleep right now, his tiny snores confirming it. His arm is unknowingly draped over my body, and I don’t want to move it. I love the gentleness of his touch, I always have. There is a comfort in his love for me that will be hard to walk away from, even if it’s what he wants. I realize that I am blessed to have had Evan be my first and only male experience. I couldn’t ask for a better one. Not everyone is so lucky.

  “Adrienne, are you still awake?” I whisper, breaking the silence of our attempted slumber.

  “Yeah,” she replies, sleepily.

  “Did Tris ever hurt you?”

  “Not like what he did to Skylar,” is her cryptic reply.

  “But he did hurt you,” I counter, encouraging her to continue.

  “Yeah, he did,” she says with a sigh, opening her eyes and looking into mine. “But it’s not like I didn’t ask for it. I’m the one who told him to do it, I just didn’t count on him enjoying it so much.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s kind of a long story.”

  “I have time.”

  She looks me over, noticing Evan’s arm draped over my body and how I haven’t attempted to move his hand from where it’s resting just under my breast. I see her eyebrow rise slightly at the sight, but she doesn’t say anything about it, instead she sits up in the bed and prepares to tell me about her past with Tristan Gallagher.