by KV Rose
Let go.
I try to loosen my body.
I feel someone behind me and nearly jump out of my skin but then I hear Sid’s low voice in my ear. “It’s me.”
Her hands go to my hips, just above Natalie’s, and she moves my body for me. I try to relax, to let go, but I can’t get a good feel for this beat.
“Ella,” Sid whispers, momentarily startling me out of my panic. “Be careful with Maverick. He’s always got blood on his hands.”
I try to turn toward her but Natalie still has her hands on my hips, her head tilted back as she raps to the song. Sid’s fingers dig into my skin, keeping me in place.
“Get out while you still can.”
And before I can move, before I can think, the song changes.
Airplanes by B.o.B. and Hayley Williams comes on. I want to talk to Sid. I want to ask her what the hell she’s talking about. While I still can?
But Natalie isn’t letting go, and apparently, neither is Sid. Maybe she’s drunk. Maybe she drank before she got here. Maybe she’s putting her and Lucifer’s problems on me and Maverick.
And god, I haven’t heard this song in years, but I love it. I used to listen to it in my room with the door locked when Mom had guys over and I could hear them against my wall, back in West Virginia.
Let go.
I push that memory aside, Sid’s words, too. I sway with her hands on my hips and Natalie’s breasts bumping against my own.
Let go.
I can talk to Sid later. Now is not the time.
I bring my fingers to my hair, loving the way the strands feel down my back. When Natalie’s fingers trail down to my thighs and she giggles, I keep moving, feeling less embarrassed and more…into it.
This moment.
The lights.
The bodies pressing around us.
The girls that could be my friends, even with Sid’s ominous warning. It’s easy to let that go with the tequila in my veins.
She doesn’t leave my back and Natalie has my front.
For one glorious moment, just a few minutes, everything feels…good. Like I’m actually nineteen. Like I’m just another teenager out for the night. My belly is full, my mind is buzzing, and I feel…happy.
But then the moment ends.
Natalie lets go of me, and Sid stiffens at my back, but she doesn’t let go.
My eyes fly open and a boy is standing in front of me. No. A man. He’s not one of Maverick’s friends, and I’ve never seen him before in my life.
His hands come to my hips, entwining with Sid’s fingers. He pulls me closer to his body, and my breasts press against his hard chest. He smells good, like clean clothes and something heady and masculine. He’s aggressive, his fingers digging into my skin and Sid’s fingers, too. And maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s because I’m fucked up, but I feel…arousal with his body pressed against mine. This is a public dance floor, after all.
Isn’t this what people are supposed to do?
I don’t see Natalie over his shoulder, but Sid hasn’t moved, even though she seems tense behind me.
The man’s pale green eyes are locked on mine. His full lips turn up in a smirk.
“Hello, Ella,” he says.
A chill slides down my spine, and I stop moving, but he forces me to keep going, his grip on my hips painful as he moves my body against him.
He has dark brown hair, wavy and curling at the ends. He’s in a tight black shirt that stretches across his sculpted chest.
“Jeremiah,” Sid breathes behind me. I feel her fingers wiggling against me, but Jeremiah holds them tighter. “What’re you doing?”
The man smiles, holding my gaze. “I’ve missed you,” he says, but I know he isn’t speaking to me. “So much.”
I try to turn my head, to look at Sid, but he grabs my face, holding my chin.
“Don’t run, Sid,” he says, still looking at me. “If you run, I’ll hurt her.”
I can’t breathe. The lightness has left. The good feeling is gone, and my head is spinning. I can’t think. I can’t… Where is Maverick?
Get out while you still can.
I try to look over the man’s shoulder, but he digs his fingers into my face tighter, making me wince.
“Oh no, Ella,” he says softly. “Look at me.”
“What do you want?” Sid hisses from behind me, both of her hands still on my hips even though we’re no longer moving. No longer swaying.
“Don’t be stupid, Sid.”
“Jeremiah. You need to leave.”
“I’ve called you. I’ve waited outside of your little compound.” He exhales, still holding my face. Still looking at me. He runs his finger over my lips, smirking as I inhale sharply. “You never leave, baby.”
My knees feel weak. It’s almost like he’s talking to me. You never leave.
Get out while you still can.
“Is he keeping you there?”
No. My mouth almost forms the word. Jeremiah leans in close, dipping his head down. His mouth hovers over mine.
“Is he crushing you, Sid? Or is he really everything you thought he’d be?”
“Let her go.”
Jeremiah brushes his lips over my mouth.
Where is Maverick?
“I don’t think I will. I like how she tastes.” And then he kisses me, hard, his tongue running along the seam of my lips.
I open my mouth and I don’t know why. Fucking slut. My mom’s voice echoes in my head but I still don’t stop.
I need fresh air.
But I don’t move.
He laughs against me, his tongue in my mouth, his fingers tightening against my waist.
Then he pulls back, but our lips still touch. “Tell me, Sid,” he says, speaking softly but loud enough for both of us to hear him. “Tell me it doesn’t hurt you to watch me kiss someone else.” He runs his tongue over my bottom lip. “Tell me you don’t feel something right now.”
Sid’s fingers dig into my waist, and her mouth is by my ear when she says, “Fuck you, Jeremiah. Let her go.”
“Ah.” He trails his mouth over my cheek. “You’re angry.”
But before I can move, before Sid can respond, Jeremiah is yanked backward, away from me.
Sid lets go of me, steps in front of me, calling out the man’s name.
I see him then. Maverick. He slams Jeremiah against the pool table, and the guys playing at it scatter.
Sid calls out Maverick’s name but Maverick grabs a pool cue from the guy closest to him and snaps it over his fucking knee.
He holds it up to Jeremiah’s throat, shoving it against him. Jeremiah is bent backward over the pool table, a gleam in his pale green eyes as he stares up at Maverick.
“Stop!” Sid screams.
I glance around the room. The bartender is watching as he pours drinks, but he says nothing. I don’t see Lucifer or any of the other boys.
Just a bunch of people staring at us, the music still thudding, this time Bounce Back by Big Sean.
Sid is clawing at Maverick’s arm with a lot more strength than she looks like she’d be capable of, but Maverick shoves her away.
“You piece of shit,” he seethes, his face inches from Jeremiah, that pool cue still underneath his throat. “I saved your life once, motherfucker, but I’m not feeling so generous this time.”
Jeremiah’s face turns red but he doesn’t stop smiling.
And then I see him.
A man running over with a baseball bat in his hand, his eyes on Maverick. He has short blonde hair and I don’t take in anything else as I run toward him as fast as I can, shoving people out of my way, Maverick’s name coming from my mouth and I don’t even know I’m screaming it.
Sid slowly turns toward me, but she doesn’t see what I see.
Maverick looks over at me, loosening his grip on Jeremiah, who yanks the pool cue and throws it to the floor with a clatter. He shoves Maverick off of him and I finally reach them, running past them both, and barreling straight i
nto the guy with the baseball bat.
He stumbles back a few steps, dropping the bat as he does. He catches my wrist as he catches his breath and slams me against the wall.
“Nicolas, no!” Sid screams over the jeering in the bar, a few guys coming toward us as this guy pins me to the wall.
But they don’t need to save me.
Maverick is there in seconds, his fist connecting with the side of the guy’s jaw, making his head spin, his hands leaving me as he stumbles back into another pool table, gripping the edges to keep himself upright.
Maverick turns to me, pulling me into his arms, cradling my head as he spins us both and glances around the bar.
Jeremiah is gone.
Sid is running toward the door and I see Lucifer yanking it open, running toward Sid. Atlas and Natalie trail in after Lucifer, Ezra behind them.
“Get out of here,” Maverick snarls to Nicolas, who is flexing his jaw, his hand over his mouth. “Get the fuck out of here unless you want me to break your fucking neck.” Maverick’s chest is heaving against me, but he doesn’t let me go, one arm wrapped around my back, the other still against my head.
Nicolas doesn’t hesitate. He runs out of the opposite door, dodging through people who laugh as he flees.
“You okay, pretty girl?” Maverick asks me, his mouth against my cheek.
I nod, press myself further against him.
“Good. I’m taking you home.”
I stiffen, try to pull away from him.
He laughs, smoothing back my hair but keeping me to his chest. “To my house, baby. My house.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Salvete.” Elijah doesn’t wait for us to return the greeting. He gestures around the room to Adam, Cal and my father. “We need to discuss a matter that doesn’t concern the five of you.” He turns to Ezra. “Give us the room.”
I glance around the table, my eyes finding Lucifer. But he’s got his head in his hands. He came in later than the rest of us, shadows under his eyes finally rivaling Sid’s own.
Ezra gets up first, nods toward his father, and walks out.
Fuck it. I get up, too. Atlas, Cain, and finally Lucifer walk out ahead of me, and just as I’m about to leave, too, my father calls my name.
I don’t look back, but I stop in the doorway.
“I hope you’re not getting too attached to the redhead,” he says smoothly. He sighs, as if he gives a damn about what he’s going to say next. “You’re already likely going to be responsible for one girl’s death. Don’t add to the body count, Maverick.”
I still don’t look back, and I don’t say a word. The entire room has gone silent, and beyond the doorway, I think my brothers are listening, too.
I close my eyes, resisting the urge to turn around and fucking upturn the table in the middle of the room. But it’s made of stone and bolted into the floor, so there’s like, zero chance I could actually do that.
Instead, I just walk out. I’m not even surprised he knows. Especially not after last night.
The door closes behind me, and me and my brothers move down the dark corridor, lined with guards.
No one says anything until we’re in the sanctuary. Ezra takes a seat at the first pew, hooking both arms around the back of the seat, his legs crossed at the ankle. Cain takes a seat on the stairs leading up to the podium; the steps I took Sid from right before I found out she was my sister.
Atlas sits beside Ezra, adjusting the cap on his head, and Lucifer sits on the fucking floor.
“I hope you took her to her house last night,” Lucifer says to me without looking up. He’s got his knees up, elbows propped on them. He’s wearing all black like I am; like we all are, save for Cain, who, as usual, looks like he’s in the mafia with his fitted slacks, tailored coat over his sweater.
I take a seat in the pew behind Atlas and Ezra, kick my feet up on the back of theirs, a few feet down from them.
The smell of the old church is strange; comforting and sickening all at once.
I think about burning it the fuck down myself, and not just for Lucifer. For all of us. But would it matter? We’d just end up right back here, in a different church.
“Everything good with you and Sid?” I counter to Luce.
Atlas turns around in his pew to glare at me.
I shrug, mouthing What?
He turns back around, doesn’t say shit.
Ezra pulls something out of his hoodie pocket. A flask, I see. He tips it up to his lips. “Anyone want any?” he asks the group.
Cain snorts, staring at his hands. I notice his knuckles are busted up. Between Lucifer’s bad attitude, Cain’s fucking and fighting problem, Ezra’s alcoholism and Atlas’s nerves, I’m suddenly ready to get the fuck out of here.
“I’ll take some,” I say to Ezra.
He twists around in his seat and hands me the silver flask with a grin. I tip it up, and nearly choke on the straight vodka. But I swallow it down, relishing the burn, and hand it back to him.
“You alright, man?” I ask him.
He puts the flask back in his hoodie pocket, turns away from me, flexing his jaw. “None of us are alright, Maverick,” he says in that deep voice of his, no longer smiling.
No one speaks about Jeremiah Rain. About his right-hand cock suck, Nicolas. About how close Jeremiah was to Sid. How he had his mouth on Ella.
How Ella saved me from getting cracked over the head with a fucking baseball bat. How Lucifer and the rest of my brothers missed it because they were too busy with their own addictions; nicotine, fucking, drinking. For Atlas, a girl he’s probably going to fuck over.
Atlas adjusts his hat. “Luce,” he says conversationally.
Lucifer picks his head up. His eyes are bloodshot.
“When’s the last time you checked up on Finn?”
Way to lighten the mood, asshole.
Lucifer looks like he might kill Atlas. Instead, he rakes a hand through his black, curly hair. “When’s the last time you got hit in the fucking mouth?”
Atlas laughs good-naturedly, slides his hands into his pockets, his feet flat on the floor as he slouches down in the pew. “Chill, man. I was just wondering if Sid had met him yet, that’s all.”
Lucifer’s eyes narrow. “What’s it matter to you?”
Atlas snorts. “You’re my brother. She’s family now.” He shrugs. “I didn’t know you’d be so touchy about it.”
Before Lucifer can respond, Cain speaks from the steps on the podium. “Yeah, it’s been a while since we’ve got to hang out with you two, and last night didn’t go so well, huh?” There’s no accusation in his tone, but his dark eyes are narrowed on the back of Lucifer’s head.
Lucifer doesn’t turn around to face Cain, but I know for a fact he’s hating being in the hot seat. He can keep fucking hating it. He’s got shit to answer to, and these are the least of the questions he should worry about. Last night didn’t go well before Jeremiah Rain showed up. He was just the icing on the fucking cake.
“She hasn’t met him. She hasn’t wanted to.”
“How’s Julie feel about your wifey?” Ezra asks.
Lucifer looks back down at his lap, his hands clasped together over his knees. “She doesn’t know.”
I actually choke on my own saliva. “She doesn’t know?” I repeat.
Lucifer tips his head up to stare at me. “You deaf?”
“If I was, I wouldn’t have to listen to your emo bullshit. But as it is, no. I’m just shocked to find the woman that you keep coddling with your cash doesn’t know you got fucking married.”
“Fuck off and answer my question,” he snaps at me. “Did you take the girl home last night?”
I shrug. “Maybe I fucked her at my house instead. What’s it to you?” I smirk at him, thinking of the other night. “You jealous?”
He tips his head up and laughs, exposing his throat. A throat that I wouldn’t mind sinking my knife into right now. When he dips his head back down, there’s venom in his gaze. “Mav, I th
ink we both know who, between the two of us, is fucking jealous.”
I’m suddenly wishing I’d drank everything that was left in Ez’s flask. But I keep my composure, not moving as I say, “I already fucked Sid, bro. Yeah, she was good, but Ella? She lets me do whatever the fuck I want to her.”
Atlas is the first person to react. He stands up as Ezra shoots daggers my way. “What the fuck is wrong with you, man?” Atlas asks me.
I have my eyes on Lucifer when I answer, “I’m just feeling like something’s happened to us, and I’m not feeling so sure that Lucifer is a good fit for my sister anymore.”
Even though I’m being a shit, I mean what I said. Lucifer won’t let Sid out of his sight. We’re falling apart. We have been ever since…Sacrificium. Since we had to look at ourselves in the fucking mirror for the first time in a while, and turns out, we don’t like a damn thing we see.
“You think Jeremiah Rain is a good fucking fit for your sister, Mav?” Lucifer snarls, pushing up to his feet. He moves slowly, but I see his fists. I see that vein in his neck, just over top his skeleton bandana. “You think she’s gonna survive his hands?”
“Stop, Luce,” Atlas says.
Cain is still staring at the back of Lucifer’s head and Ezra is watching everything as if he’s on high alert. As if he’s not been drinking from that flask all night.
“Actually, I’m starting to think his hands can’t possibly be any worse than yours. And the way you left Sid last night, when it counted—”
“You accusing me of something, Mav? If so, why don’t you fucking spell it out for me instead of speaking in metaphors.”
I smile at him, at his little dig at my love of poetry. At least I can fucking read. He might’ve graduated top of our class, but I’m still not sure his father didn’t have something to do with that. “You got Sid a car yet, bro?”
He stiffens. “What I buy for my wife isn’t any of your fucking business—”
“Why doesn’t Sid have a car?” Cain asks quietly.
Lucifer steps back and turns to the side so he can see all of us. “Are you all seriously questioning me about my own fucking family right now?”
“We’re all a family,” Ezra says, a hard edge to his voice.
