Vibe

by Liza James

  Pandora’s Box.

  My heart rate spikes, slamming against my chest like a trapped butterfly. Or a thousand butterflies, all raging and angry and fighting for fucking escape.

  Ruby, she’s in there somewhere and today the club is closed. We’re the only ones here because we were the ones who booked a training session today. She has no idea I’ve been on my way back, or that I made it to Hawk’s in the first place and I have no way of telling her to run.

  Hawk shoves me forward and I fall to my knees, my arms weak as they work to push me back off the ground. Gravel cuts into the skin on my legs and in the palms of my hands, leaving tiny red imprints and streaks of blood where I’ve fallen.

  His hands roughly land in my hair, pulling back so harshly that I cry out at the sting. I’m pulled back up to my feet, but my back slams against Hawk’s chest as he holds me tightly against him. We both walk forward as his other hand darts forward and he rips the door open in front of me. He pushes me in to the nearly black hallway, the lights or off, or flickering in daunting flashes of impending danger.

  Fleeting warnings telling me to get out of here. Shouting with bright gleams that I’m about to give something up that I’ll never get back. I can feel it, whatever rage and anger and discomfort that’s been growing inside of me is rising to the front of my mind and taking over.

  “Run.” His voice is evil and sadistic as his teeth scrape across the shell of my ear. He shoves me forward, the flat planes of his hand slamming against my back as I stumble ahead and into the darkness.

  And I do. I run.

  I swear to God, if she isn’t fucking dead I’m going to kill that bitch myself.

  She doesn’t listen to a damn thing I say, doesn’t pay attention when I specifically fucking ask things of her. Doesn’t care that I’m pacing back and forth across the stage right now wondering where the hell she is and why she hasn’t answered her goddamn phone.

  I press call again, for the eighth time in the last hour and remind myself that I will be stalking out of here in approximately ten minutes if she doesn’t respond and driving to Hawk’s myself. If I can remember how the hell to get there.

  Fuck, I don’t remember the way, honestly. I’m worried if I leave and she’ll come back while I’m gone only to not know where I am.

  Voicemail. Again. “I hope you’re ready to fucking pay when I get my hands on you, Aura,” I bite the words out angrily and hit the end button with a heavy finger when I finally hear the rushed steps of feet racing across the stage behind me.

  “Ruby,” Aura’s voice is frantic as she shouts through heavy breaths and I quickly turn to face her.

  Blood. That’s all I can see at first. It’s dried across her face, her lashes, against her cheek and matted up through her hair. I can’t fucking think for a moment as she rushes up to me and falls to her knees, her fingers digging into the skin of my forearms while I try to hold onto her.

  “What the—Aura. What happened?” I ask, my throat suddenly dry and practically incapable of speaking.

  “Hawk. He’s here, he’s—”

  “Ruby,” Hawk’s voice calls from the depths of the hallway. He drags my name out, elongating every syllable while a faint constant low scratching sound plays behind his words. “Where is my favorite little slut?”

  “Run, I can distract him while you get out.” My eyes are locked on the curtain behind the stage while Aura’s trembling voice drifts through my ears.

  “No,” I say flatly, gripping her behind her neck and pulling her against me. Her entire body is shaking, her eyes wide as she watches me through the tears that are already building in her gaze.

  “Listen to me, Ruby. Leave. He’s high on something, I promise. I don’t know what he’ll do, and I need you to get the fuck out of here.” Aura’s voice steadies out a bit and my eyes drop to meet hers again. Something is slipping over her, a new wave of frustration coating her features while she urges me to leave.

  But it won’t fucking happen. Absolutely no way am I going to leave her here with him. This has been a long time coming, and I’m ready to cross Hawk off our fucking watch list.

  I drop my hands to either side of her face, holding her tightly while I force her to look at me. “I said no. I’m not leaving you here. If Hawk wants to finish this then I’ll fucking finish it. But I’m not running, Aura. I’m done with that.”

  It’s strange, honestly, the way her eyes suddenly clear and her focus stays trained on me. It’s like she’s coming to the same resolve I am, our breaths in sync while we sit only inches away from each other’s faces. Her gaze falls, momentarily landing on my lips before she lunges forward and kisses me.

  It’s desperate, and intoxicating. The way her tongue crashes into my mouth and she fucking claims me unlike she’s ever done before. Her fingers slip into the back of my hair and she pulls me against her, kissing me as if this might be the last chance we will have in feeling each other again. But she quickly jerks back, nodding her head as if she’s accepting whatever this is for the both of us.

  Standing alongside me in whatever we’re about to go through again. Together.

  “We’re here,” Aura’s voice calls out loudly, ringing through the largely empty space and echoing off of the high ceiling and far walls. She stands and reaches forward to pull me up as well. We’re alone. It’s dark. No one is around to witness what Hawk plans on dolling out to us.

  No one is around to witness what we will do to him.

  Aura’s fingers slip through my own as she steps closer to me, her shoulder presses tightly against mine and I watch as she physically tilts her chin upwards as Hawk finally steps through curtain. His tall frame slows immediately as he takes us in. Our short spandex and tight crop tops, long hair and slender bodies.

  We’re nothing to him.

  “Hi Hawkie, I was hoping I’d get to see you again,” I say, my voice taking a higher note as I tilt my head to the side and watch him.

  His shoulders lift and fall with heavy breaths. His eyes twitch to the side as a sick smirk pulls on the edge of his lips. He twists his wrist around and that’s when I finally see what he must have been dragging down the hall behind him.

  A baseball bat. Long and wooden, clearly marked up all over through nicks and obvious wear.

  He lifts it up a few inches and taps it on the floor rhythmically, intently watching our gazes as we observe it and then turn our attention back to him.

  “I’ve been waiting for this moment. When The Nation would finally allow me to destroy you. The seed of Aura’s corruption, the catalyst for shattering her ladder. You’ve always been the poison, do you know that?” He steps forward, lazily dragging the bat behind him as watches us. “You’ve always been unwanted.”

  Aura’s fingers flex in my own, holding me tightly in her silent promise not to leave. His words, they both confuse and hurt me. More than I would have imagined, truthfully. He’s also a part of Aura’s fucked up past, The Nation claiming another face that’s betrayed her. I hate them for the sole reason of how they’ve manipulated everyone in Aura’s fucking life.

  “The Nation? Another cult follower, I see. I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always portrayed a sheep, Hawk. Always the follower—easily manipulated and persuaded,” I speak clearly, enunciating each word while my eyes stay trained on him. I refuse to look away, to give him any sort of sign of vulnerability. I don’t know what will happen when we take him on, but I’m ready to go down fighting if I need to.

  Because at the end of all of this, I don’t want to be the one who rolled over out of fear of someone else. I won’t let their intimidation, their scare tactics force me to my knees in submission. I won’t alter who I am because of the events of someone else. I’ve done that before. I’ve lost myself to Dom and my family and the expectations of society.

  So, I do this for the freedom. Every rebuke, every fight, even death. All of it in the name of my own identity, my own personality—my own transformation.

  Even if what he said fe
els true—the fact that no one has wanted me. If my own family easily passed me off to someone so clearly evil, how could I expect anyone else to care for me in the ways I want?

  My eyes shift to Aura as I slowly turn my head. She stands perfectly still, her beautifully upturned chin pointed in authority. Tears roll down her cheeks as she watches him, but the square set to her shoulders and steady rise of her chest lets me know that she isn’t afraid.

  She may be hurt. She may feel betrayed. But even in pain, her strength shines.

  I don’t answer him, because he doesn’t deserve the response and when he sees my clear observance over Aura, he finally snaps.

  Hawk lunges forward, throwing the bat behind his shoulder as Aura rushes ahead and breaks the hold she has on my hand. I reach forward to pull her back but she’s too quick, anticipating his movement as the bat swings forward and misses her head but lands starkly against her ribs. She falls to her knees and cries out, my own heart slamming and shattering into pieces at the sight. I want to help her, to pull her back against me and into safety but Hawk easily steps around her and continues forward.

  I step back, his wide strides matching each of my own. His mouth is practically frothing, spittle falling from his lips as he works his jaw back and forth while speaking to me. “Bethie and I were determined to ruin you from the beginning. The very first night we saw you on that fucking stage with those pathetic fucking wings. A butterfly? Are you fucking kidding me? As if you’re some beacon of hope in an evil place like this.” He laughs bitterly as he leans forward and spits across my cheek. “But you fooled us for a moment. We were so caught up in what we thought was beauty that we didn’t see you snaking your way into our ladders and breaking our rungs. Ruining our chances of ascension when you set your sight on the prophet’s daughter.”

  The prophet’s daughter?

  I’m thrown off for a moment, my mind trying to make sense of what Aura’s told me about her mother and Malin when his hand quickly shoots forward and wraps tightly around my throat. He lifts me from the ground while I kick forward, colliding my foot with his groin when we both fall to the floor. The bat rolls to the side and he reaches for it, but just as he turns briefly, I throw my fist forward and smash it across the right side of his jaw.

  I hear my own knuckles crack in the process, a sharp pain spreading across my hand and radiating through my wrist. I think I may have broken a finger or two, but the adrenaline is rushing so high that I hardly feel it aside from the initial sting.

  I turn, quickly shooting forward on my knees to reach for the bat for myself but just as my fingers are about to wrap around the base, my head is yanked back so roughly that I feel strands of my hair being torn from my scalp. I cry out, my fingers scratching across the stage floor while I fight to pull away from him, but he’s already on top of me and his other hand grips my shoulder while he flips me onto my back.

  “I’ve imagined this moment. Having your blood on my hands while I kill and then fuck you. I want to take what’s mine after I watch your last breath fall from your mouth. No more fighting, no more refusals, no longer seducing my fucking girlfriend behind my back. You’re pathetic, a fucking waste of a human.” He leans forward and wraps his hand around my throat, but he doesn’t squeeze, he simply holds me still with that grip while his other hand crashes against my jaw and whips my head to the side.

  “Do you want to know how she is?” I ask him, my voice quiet and low while his wild eyes bounce back and forth between my own. “How she fucks when you’re actually giving her what she likes.”

  Another hit, this time harder, and the burst of metallic coats my tongue while a smile pulls along my face. “God she’s good. The best I’ve ever had. You know how she does that thing with her tongue on your clit? Or the way her moans sound when she’s crying your name?”

  Again, and this time the hit is so hard that my vision immediately blacks out momentarily. The sounds around me are muffled, my own warm blood slipping against my ears while he spits in my face.

  I love it. This entire fucking demise of him, because I still oddly feel like I’m the one with the power.

  “You’re fucking dead and I’m going to enjoy every second of peeling your skin from your bones, packing you up in pieces and bringing you back to The Nation. We’ll consume you, your tainted flesh healing our rungs and restoring our—”

  His sick words are cut off as his eyes widen in shock when he feels the cold edge of the steel blade against the base of his throat. Before I even realize what’s happening, he’s yanked back and off of me. He’s settled on his knees while his hands lift in surrender in front of his chest.

  I strain to focus my eyes, but when I do I realize it’s Aura who has him by her hands. Her fingers are laced through his long blond hair, now grown out and messy from neglect. He’s pulled back tightly against her chest while she forces him to be still and holds the same knife she received from K against his ashen flesh.

  Fucking hell.

  Is there a way to know when you’ve truly lost it? Lost all inhibitions and consumed every bit of power? Because that’s how I feel right now.

  Powerful. Free. Finally fucking free.

  My skin is electric. My blood a constant vibrating current flowing through my limbs and sparking my fingertips. I don’t feel the fear, or the hesitation, or the concern over what I’m doing.

  All I feel is that this is right, this is what needs to happen if I’m ever going to live a life with Ruby outside of The Nation. Everything I know has been a lie. Every person I’ve trusted, every ounce of love I’ve given has been stolen from me. None of it given in truth and I fucking hate them for that. All of them.

  Everything they made me do when I was young, everything I’ve been forced into doing again. Even today, with this knife pressed tightly against Hawk’s throat while I hold him off of the woman I love. It’s come full circle really, placing me back into a moment I tried so hard to forget. Thankfully, Ruby had brought K’s knife with her when we came. While Hawk had her pinned down, I had a moment to search and found it in her bag.

  “Are you afraid of me?” I ask quietly, my whispering voice breathing against his ear as I press the sharp edge of the blade even harder against his skin. I hear his intake of breath and I fucking love it.

  “No,” he bites out, but I know he’s lying. It’s in his energy now, tainting his breath with fear and the worry that I’ll go through with this. He doesn’t think I will.

  Jokes on him though, because I’ve already shed the cocoon I’ve been trapped in.

  I laugh, and my tongue slips out and against the shell of his ear while his pulse flickers in the base of his throat. “Do you know what happened at my induction ceremony?” I ask Hawk, my eyes lifting to meet Ruby’s as she sits up on her elbows and watches us.

  “Yes,” he says, his voice is rough and jagged while he tries to maintain his authority.

  “Tell her what happened,” I order. I want her to know, truthfully. I need her to know what I’ve done and what I might do again—right now.

  But he stays silent, refusing to speak because it goes against our beliefs of The Nation. We don’t speak of the ceremonies, of what happens afterwards. We don’t share our experiences because that would destroy the solidarity of them. The righteousness of the act. Don’t muddle the sacrifices with revelations.

  “Tell her what fucking happens, Hawk. Tell her what I’ve done, what you’ve done, what Bethie has done,” I demand again, yanking his head back even farther and exposing the long column of his neck as I dig the blade into his flesh. Blood breaks through in a thin line and slips down in a crimson trail to his collar bone. My eyes stay focused on it, on the result of my own actions as I take this farther than I’ve ever gone before.

  Almost.

  He groans in frustration as his tongue slides out and licks across his bottom lip. “When you turn thirteen, you participate in your induction ceremony if deemed worthy. A small grouping of people are brought out in the middle of the fores
t. Everyone is dressed in white, everyone has a sack over their head. You don’t know who they are, you aren’t supposed to. It’s meant to represent humanity as a whole. A blank canvas that you intentionally destroy in order to ascend. You have to put aside your humanity in order to fully submit to The Omega.” He speaks passionately, truly believing in every word he’s saying. It’s disgusting. The vile memory slashing through my mind like whips and chains. It stings, god it fucking hurts to remember this.

  “Keep going,” I say again, but my voice is quieter this time. I hate getting to this part. I don’t want to hear it, but I need Ruby to know what I’ve done.

  “You’re given a taste of wine prior to the ceremony, it’s laced with LSD so that you can truly submit to the spiritual experience of it all. It takes you another step closer to the Omega, opens you up for his influence and power. Then you’re given a gun, and you’re commanded to shoot someone at random. Whoever you choose, wherever the bullet lands, that person ascends to the City of Eden. It’s an honor to be amongst those chosen for ceremonies.” He closes his eyes and smiles, his breath falling in a calmer pattern as he relishes in the idea of ascension.

  My eyes fall to Ruby’s, trying to gauge her reaction while her brows pinch together in confusion. Tears spill through my lashes and fall heavily down my cheeks. My heart is racing, ripping me into shreds as I remember my own ceremony. My own decisions. She’s watching us intently, but she looks frozen in place by what she’s hearing.

  “What happened at my ceremony? Tell her,” I say, my voice shaking as the flashes begin assaulting my mind.

  Blood, so much fucking blood. And the screams, the excruciating cries and pleads for help.

  “Aura’s ceremony was a fluke. It was the first time anything like that had ever happened. No one expected you to miss,” he grinds the words out in anger as he repeats my worst memories. The evening that haunts my dreams and taints my days. “She pulled the trigger, but the bullet only grazed the member. Instead of a clean kill, the person—”