Is this a game? The lines from all the sex we’ve had and…reality…are starting to blur.
I like it. She’s an escape and god, she’s good at letting me forget myself in her.
Her breath comes out in soft pants, and my dick swells in my jeans. I’m fucking late. My father will be there. Lucifer might kill him before I get a chance to, and Elijah will have my head.
We don’t miss Council.
Ever.
“No,” she says quietly. “No one is home.”
That means someone in her family owns a car, which is good, I guess. But I think back to how she ate more of the mac-n-cheese than I did. How she was the one to suggest we eat again after I’d made her eggs, because when I’m not high, sometimes I forget all about food.
How she offered to cook.
I did it, because she’s a guest and one that I was fucking at that, but still… She’s not a small girl. She has thick thighs and a fat ass, big tits, but her waist is narrow, and I don’t think it’s just from good genes.
“Do you at least have food?”
Her eyes widen and then narrow in quick succession and she yanks out of my grip, grasping for the handle of the door. It flips up, cold air rushing in, and she jumps out of my car like I bit her.
I did that earlier and she didn’t run away like this.
“Go fuck yourself, Maverick.”
I roll my eyes, turning my head and groaning as I do. I didn’t mean to offend her but for fuck’s sake, the state of her house, her stomach grumbling, the way she dove headfirst into fucking processed cheese and noodles…
Whatever.
I don’t have time for this.
I close her door, wait until she lets herself inside—without a key, I realize with no small amount of horror—then I head to Council, turning up Erased by Essenger. Seems fucking fitting.
I lean against my car, a joint between my fingers as my brothers circle around me. Seems I wasn’t late after all.
Lucifer lights up a cigarette, his gloved hand around it to block out the bitter wind. It’s fucking dark out here, and it’s not even six yet. Lucifer’s lighter illuminates the pale planes of his face, the hollows of his cheeks as he inhales, getting the thing lit.
I saw him glance at the expansive lawn behind Sanctum when he got out of his BMW, but otherwise, he’s said nothing about his dead father. Not today, and not since he killed him.
No wonder he thinks it should be so damn easy to kill my own father.
Ezra has his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his dark hazel eyes on me as he stands to my right. I can smell the alcohol on him from here. I want to say something about it, but I’m getting high right now, so what exactly is there to say? His Audi is out of the shop, good as new, and I wonder how long it’ll be before he fucks it up again.
“Look, he’s going to ask you about Ria. It’s been long enough,” he says in that deep voice of his. I remember being jealous of it as a kid, the way his voice changed before ours. The way he got girls before we did. Girls he wanted.
Because I think we all got a few things we didn’t want, some involving women. And I think whatever he’s been running from since he found out what Jeremiah did to Sid has a little something to do with that.
As usual, no one asks. No one tells. Lucifer was the only one among us to admit the truth of his torture, and that was only because I saw Pammie’s hands wrapped around his dick myself one day at the strip.
I’d wanted to slit her fucking throat right then.
He’d pled silently with me through her cracked window not to say a word.
I hadn’t.
I think about how good it felt to hear her scream. To bring that hammer down over her fucking skull.
I don’t say a word, just keep smoking, waiting to see what advice Ezra’s got for dealing with his father. The new Dominus. Ezra was supposed to speak with him this morning, before this Very Important Council meeting, where my pussy of a father is going to make an appearance.
Elijah is all right in my book, but that doesn’t count for much. My book is full of sins. Evils meant for torture porn, haunted houses. Psych wards.
Cain shifts on his feet to my left but doesn’t say anything. Atlas adjusts his hat across from me, beside Luce, rubbing his eyes. No one got a lot of sleep last night I take it, considering the goddamn fire alarm at Liber was pulled.
Ezra blows out a breath, a puff of cold in its wake. “He said, since she’s signed the NDA, as long as she keeps to it, she’ll be okay.” He stares at me for a second and I know he’s not done. I know these things aren’t that easy. “For now,” he finally adds.
I blow smoke through my nose, drop the spliff and grind it out beneath my boot. No one says anything for a moment.
I tip my head up and check out the stars. Out here, they’re really fucking bright. Even the dark clouds blotting out the moon can’t hide all of them. I keep my eyes up there as I repeat, “For now.”
“Yeah,” Ezra continues. “But you know we can’t trust her with everything she knows.”
“You mean how our parents are running a sex trafficking ring?” Atlas throws out, annoyed.
I stiffen, dip my head down to look at him, but he’s staring at Ezra.
“I mean, don’t you guys think we should, I don’t know, fucking do something about this?” Atlas continues, now looking around at all of us, his jaw ticking.
Guess he’s gonna ask me to kill my dad, too. Fantastic.
Cain is the first to answer. “Let’s not pretend like we didn’t know this was going on,” he says calmly. With his usual indifference. Sex trafficking, drugs, cars, the goddamn weather; it’s all the same to Cain. He shrugs his massive shoulders, the wool coat he’s wearing tailored to fit his fighter’s frame. “And let’s not fool ourselves into thinking there’s anything that can be done.” He’s staring at Atlas. “This is our life. We’re not here to be revolutionaries. Change the world.” He glances at the cathedral in front of us, candles flickering in the stained-glass windows. “We’re here to do as we’re told. To honor our families. The rest? Save that hero shit for someone else.”
Atlas looks annoyed, which is interesting. He’s not indifferent, like Cain. He’s just usually more laidback, jovial. Tonight, though, something is pissing him off. So, me being me, I just go for it.
“You and Natalie get home okay last night?” I ask him, hands in my pockets.
Lucifer smirks as he drops his cigarette, looking down at the damp pavement. Yeah, he can laugh because he got his girl. I’m not too concerned with what happened with Atlas and Natalie, but something about Luce’s fucking gloating pisses me off.
I keep my eyes trained on Atlas.
“We got into a fight,” he admits, a hint of irritation in his words. “Things aren’t going…well.” I think about how edgy Natalie seemed last night. Maybe they fought about the pills.
“Might be for the best,” Ezra says at my side. He looks around the group. “None of us are old enough to be getting married.”
Lucifer’s eyes lock onto his, his smirk gone, but Ezra keeps talking. I wonder if he’s thinking about last night. Lucifer shirtless in the chair across from him and that girl. But that was Ezra’s fault as much as his. Maybe Ezra is just trying to fuck up Sid and Lucifer. Interesting.