THE INITIATION: Secret Society Dark Romance (4Horsemen Series Book 1)

by Elena Monroe

  “We went past a professional relationship the minute you played Operation to get a bullet out of my arm. You can sin with no consequences here, Abigail. Might want to take advantage.”

  Forcing myself to push back, I ripped myself from climbing her cage.

  Just the thought of putting her in a cage and toying with her had me needing to close my eyes to take a deep breath as I fell back into the cushions.

  Propping my shoes up on the table, I crossed one leg over the other lazily. I wasn’t trying to crush my own balls when Abigail was doing that for me.

  Abigail was a specially kind of tortured soul when she sat down next to me with a grin that screamed for more.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Probably sinning. My mama back home is probably buzzing with alarms going off.”

  She called her mom an endearing pet name; she must like her parents enough for that. I couldn’t stand mine. If I could call them one and two I would. They didn’t deserve much else after Frankensteining me into a monster.

  “Go home, Abigail. This isn’t a place for you.”

  She leaned into me, almost whispering, if she could have. The remixed music was too loud for anyone to not yell slightly. “You’re kind of drunk… you can’t drive.”

  Letting my lips get wet with the vodka, I was openly taunting her. “And? My car basically drives itself.”

  “If I let you drive home drunk and something happens, that’s on my conscience.”

  Funny, she had one of conscience, fully grown and responsible. Mine was still stumbling around trying to walk on its own.

  “Fine. Stay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The waitress came over in her vest with a thick tie tucked inside, and a very short skirt—the uniform for bottle girls. She had a fresh bottle of whiskey that I took from the tray without the glass next to it. Fuck the glass.

  Right now I was drowning all the parts of myself with no control when it came to Abigail. Protecting her, not lying to her about who I am, letting her stay here… it wasn’t enough. I wanted to own every part of her.

  The waitress leaned down, with her hand on my shoulder to keep her from falling down in those painful looking heels, and said into my ear, “She doesn’t look much fun, Grimm. Want me to send up some girls?”

  Smirking, I whispered back into her ear. Abigail was looking at me all hungry and lost, but unwilling to do anything to give me the green light. I was hungry, but killing it with every gulp of whiskey.

  Surprising me, she stopped the waitress. “I think he’s had enough. Can we close his tab?”

  Shooting her an unpleasant look, the waitress looked to me for guidance, something I wasn’t in any position to give right now.

  “I don’t know why you’re looking to the drunk person to confirm closing his tab. He’s drunk. Close the tab and give yourself a tip.”

  Was I that drunk? Did Miss Abigail just sass someone?

  Maybe there was more to her than meets the eye.

  ABIGAIL

  Grimm, in his own element, was something I could guess only a few people had seen. He wasn’t as controlled and trite. There was no cure for his cruelty, but I was guessing it was the only way to keep the lines blurred that had been drawn.

  Sins and Forgiveness was exactly what you expected. Every surface was leather, latex, and cages, and the employees looked just as dangerous.

  It was clear as the LA sky normally was that I didn’t belong here. I wasn’t a virgin, not by any means, but I wasn’t at that intersection of life that had me exploring kink to keep it fresh either.

  Being this close to kink was hard to keep the curiosities at bay. I hated that Grimm was right; I was oddly turned on by everything around me. My focus was on the only comfort I had in this place: him.

  I took in my surroundings before I could even try to take in the two figures next to Grimm. One was what Jus would call a daddy, completely covered in tattoos like Grimm, with a leather jacket balancing over his one leg. The other one was intimidating and too hard to look at for too long. He was equally as polished and oozing this kind of tough exterior.

  “They own the Clave?”

  I didn’t know if Grimm had even heard me over the music when the one with the white hair and beard leaned forward offering a hand. “I’m Zeus… I own the Clave. The four families run it for me. Normally, I’m out of town. And you are?”

  “Executive assistant to this one,” I replied, hitching my thumb in his direction with wide eyes.

  Grimm’s unamused face told me he heard me, and I couldn’t help but bite down a smirk. He was too comfortable putting people in their place and having every one exactly where he wanted. He deserved me keeping him humble.

  Before I could extend my hand over Grimm’s lap, he held his hand up. “You wanted boundaries.”

  I knew where this was going. Oscar drank like it was a sport, and the first one to get trashed won a gold medal. Well, Oscar never lost.

  He wouldn’t just be hard to handle, but he would be jealous if anyone paid any mind to me. And not the kind of jealous that got a sour attitude, he would start fights over a glance. Oscar also had a habit of touching everything he liked that saw.

  Drunk amnesia that he had a girlfriend, really.

  With wide eyes and a look that could melt faces off, I sat back, tense and trying not to think about what Grimm was like drunk. Maybe this was the worst of it. Maybe his cruelty was just sharpened.

  The girl came back with the receipt, a pen, and his card, handing them to me. I was glad she learned from my tone earlier. “Just sign the top one. Bottom one is Grimm’s copy.”

  She stood in front of me, waiting, when Grimm’s hands pulled her down sideways onto his lap as she giggled.

  Rules only made for me. Interesting double standard.

  Pushing the small tray with the pen and receipts, all I took was his heavy card and was now forced to look at his finger tracing her fishnet stockings on her thigh. He really was in his own element and not uncomfortable at all. It made me wonder what happened to him to make him this way.

  I understood some kink. Everyone had those things they liked and couldn’t explain, but Grimm was cozy here—a kind of cozy with the darkness that made me feel bad for him.

  Standing up, I announced, “Time to go, stud.”

  Grimm was too busy whispering against the waitress’s ear to hear me. Zeus stood up, seeming completely sober, which was a huge turnaround from him laughing like a schoolboy in church when I came in. Crossing my arms, I waited for him to get up, when Zeus stopped at me. “How much do you know?”

  His question made my face scrunch up in confusion as I stared back at him with no real way to answer.

  I briefly looked over the tattoos that covered his arms and hands as he managed to get his leather jacket on, making sure his chest brushed my arm. “Before you fall down that rabbit hole, you might want to get some.”

  I swore I even felt my lungs freeze up when he suggested I get answers. I had a taste of the truth and it was sour—a hard-coated in sour lemon that made my mouth water up and my eyes tear just a little. I wanted to be one of those people who could be okay with lies, be okay not knowing everything about everything, but I wasn’t. Sour or not, I would force myself to hold that sour candy in my mouth until I sucked up all the truth it could give.

  “Grimm, can we go now?”

  The girl linked her arm behind his head and spoke while looking at me, even though it was meant for him: “Babysitter said it’s time to go. Text me next time you wanna have fun.” Standing up from his lap, she turned to walk away from us, when Grimm slapped her ass, making her smile over her shoulder.

  Okay, maybe that was the worst of it.

  I wasn’t prepared to feel his weight lean into me with his heavy arm across my shoulders, slightly pulling my hair as we walked down the stairs. “This a normal weekend for you?” Scared of the answer, I kept my eyes forward, even when we walked outside and the chill of the night made me
shiver.

  “I don’t drink, remember? The sex stuff? Much worse, Abigail. That’s tame.”

  Shaking with another chill shooting down my spine, I stood there, still watching Zeus bump fists with Grimm before they climbed into their car. They weren’t at all what I was expecting when Vic drove home how much Grimm needed to give a fuck. It made me wonder why he was so against it when they seemed like birds of a feather: twisted, dark, intimidating on the outside…

  Without me asking, the valet next to me informed me Grimm had parked in the back, like he normally did, instead of making someone else do it. “Do you have his keys? I can pull it around, ma’am.”

  Ma’am? I am no ma’am. I look like a fucking Victoria Secret model without the wings or accents they normally sport.

  Tossing him the keys, I nodded and tried to stay grounded to the floor with Grimm now swaying slightly without realizing it. He was the worst kind of drunk: the silent and swaying type. It put me on edge, like he was going to throw up any minute, and I wasn't prepared for that. I was not the person you called when you needed to bury a body or to give you a ride to the ER because half your fingers were in an ice bucket.

  I didn’t tolerate gore of any kind, including upchucking.

  The car was, of course, matte black with shiny black flames that screamed he had money and didn’t care what he spent it on. The valet either took pity on me or was loyal to Grimm, and he helped with the passenger door, making sure Grimm went in unharmed. He wasn’t fat by any means. His muscles made him look even more intimidating, and his tattoos only helped to make him look even more fit standing probably four inches taller than me still at my 5 foot 8 inches.

  Leaning over his body, I pulled the seatbelt over him anyways, feeling the guilt kick up, demanding that I should. He smelled like liquor, sex, and heartbreak; it was intoxicating. Trying not to linger too long, even if he wasn’t going to remember this, I rounded the car and sat in the deep driver’s seat so far away from the pedals I had to adjust it as close as it would go.

  “You know, you’re pretty… for a prude,” he slurred his words at me as I tried to find the start button, since his key ring had no visible keys.

  Fucking rich people problems when they drive spaceships that force people to find the magic button, which is not easily done if you come from any other class.

  “What?” I snapped off more abruptly than I meant to. I had heard him fine, even distracted and taking everything he said at face value; I just wanted him to repeat it.

  “Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me, Miss Abigail.” He leaned back into the bucket seat to whisper, “You’re always listening to me… even when I don’t want you to.”

  “I’m not a prude, for the record.”

  “Make a left at the light,” he demanded before the car was even moving.

  How drunk was he exactly?

  It just started purring when I found the blue button almost under the steering wheel. Well, they sure did find a foolproof way of making sure these cars weren’t ever stolen.

  “I know how to get to your house.”

  “Hungry.” That was the exact amount of words I expected him to utilize. Short and to the point with no time to tiptoe around how that might make anyone else feel. I would feel pretty badass if that was my love language too: vacancy.

  I obliged, hoping food would soak it all up and serve the Grimm I knew on a silver platter.

  “What do you want?” I asked him, more to the point than he was being as I pulled off the curb so slowly and carefully I was sure I stopped breathing altogether.

  No response came from his side of the car when I decided on In-N-Out for him. I was hungry all of a sudden too.

  I really should stop being stubborn and text Oscar back. He had fucked up beyond forgiveness, yes. Did that mean I couldn’t use him for sex? No.

  As I waited in the drive-thru line, I looked at Oscar’s texts begging me to respond. Each were left unanswered as I dropped my phone in my lap and pulled forward to order. “Hi, can I get two #1s, animal-style, with lemonades?”

  I didn’t think Grimm was awake when he mumbled, “I have cash.” Before we even got to the window, he was digging in his pocket and pulling out stray 20’s. Putting the car in park, scared it would drive without me, I felt Grimm’s hand slide a twenty dollar bill over the top of my thigh. Even through my jeans I could feel the heat of his palm making my heart quicken.

  The guy in the window gushed over Grimm’s exotic car before we exchanged money and food. I made Grimm hold the two bags I handed him in his lap, and I dropped the change in the empty cup holder, knowing a drunk person can’t be trusted to catch loose change.

  “See? Prude.” Chomping on a fry from the bag, I gave him my best side eye.

  “You’re my boss. I can be tense when you're touching me. Drunk or not.”

  Leaning forward he set the bags down under his extended legs. “Then why can’t you talk about the birds and bees?”

  “You’re my—”

  He cut my words off to speak again. “Miss Abigail over here needs to know everything… every little thing, don’t you? You want the truth so bad, but only if it’s pretty.”

  “Why does the truth have to be ugly? Because it comes from you, Jason?”

  Jason, Grimm, drunk… it didn’t matter who he was right now. I couldn’t get any follow up to any questions in this state of mind. I was just forced to defend myself however I could.

  The long private driveway, the beach close by, and the glass house sitting there lifeless was waiting for us. His house felt barren and cold, the way I assumed he wanted it to.

  Uninviting.

  Unwelcoming.

  Unenthusiastic.

  Punching in the code, the metal gates opened, and everything came into view. His privacy was long gone now.

  I watched Grimm get out of his car with minimal stumbling, but I could still see how much help he needed when my hands guided his sides, feeling every solid muscle under his shirt. I don’t why at that moment my mind wandered to the FaceTime call I had with him in the shower. It wasn’t helping; it only helped turn me a blushing kind of pink.

  “Couch or bed?”

  “Bed.” His eyes were closed already, and I was barely making it to the first step of his staircase. “Did you know I have Oreos… You see them? I want them.”

  I guess we had moved past silent and swaying. Now he was just needy. “Come on. Bed first, then I’ll get you Oreos.”

  With a clear huff, he climbed the last few stairs, waiting for me to guide him like I remembered where his bedroom was exactly. Once he realized I didn’t remember, he shuffled to the left and waited in front of the door for me to open it. I felt his heavy arms wrap around my neck from behind and his head collided with mine as his weight sunk down over me.

  “Jesus, Grimm. Muscle weighs more than fat for sure.”

  With him chuckling in my ear, I moved forward, and his arms uncrossed and hung in front of my chest, grazing my body with only my thin shirt between us.

  “I want a raise, title change, glowing reviews… for-like-ever for this shit.”

  I didn’t know how much he was absorbing. I turned around, hoping he would let go and fall into bed. He fell onto the bed just fine, but he took me with him, making sure my ass was perfectly flush against his crotch.

  His hand dropped down to my hip with a squeeze when he pinned me down to his sheets. Grimm was truly beautiful just as much as he was dangerous. His eyes were deep, drawing me in, and his lips were never chapped. Strong jaw and muscles made him seem like he couldn’t be real, maybe made of stone or even marble.

  “Grimm…” It came out barely above a whisper as his body hovered over mine, inching closer.

  Without warning, his lips pressed against mine with a heavy dose of tongue, tempting my lips to part. His body finally found a way to settle between my legs, just as he was lighting me on fire and the fumes were making my head spin.

  Warm, wet, expertly his tongue invaded m
y mouth and tangled with mine. My back arched, trying to meet him halfway, even though he was pushing into me just as much.

  He had me under some kind of spell that was hard to see sanity and reason with his hard dick grinding into me with every hungry kiss. Finally pulling away, I felt as drunk as he was. With my head spinning, my body vibrating, and parts of me aching I had neglected, I tried to catch my breath.

  “Do you need a safeword?”

  His words hit me like a ton of bricks under the distress I was already under from his tongue when his hands reached up to massage my boobs.

  “Grimm. We can’t. You’re my—”

  His lips pressed against mine again, and I felt myself sink into his tongue pushing past my lips. My chest was beating steadily at a faster rate I wasn’t used to as he pulled away, taking off his shirt and making it harder to resist him.

  With my hands on his chest, I tried to keep a safe amount of space between us. “Grimm. Stop. We can’t do this.”

  Pulling down my shirt with his teeth, his lips nipped at my cleavage that wasn’t avoidable at his angle. His lips sucked the sensitive skin as he fingered the cup of my bra further down my breast, until my hard nipples were exposed to my boss. I wanted to let go and let him do pretty much anything he wanted—even the shit I saw at the sex club.

  “Grimm.” My voice was more stern than I expected, and he pulled away, holding himself above me. His features softened.

  “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… fuuuuck.”

  I didn’t tell my hands to smooth up to his shoulders, but they did. Every part of me felt bad for him. He beat himself up enough that I didn’t have to. My hands cupped his face, and I looked at him for the first time, like no lies stood between us.

  “I forgive you. You’re drunk. It’s okay.”

  His body ripped away from mine, and all the intimacy evaporated instantly. All the strings attaching our hearts together in this moment were severed.