I wasn’t used to having company on killing sprees, and her million questions were breaking my concentration. All I needed was her to see my monster live and in action before committing to that smile with the twinkle in her eyes around me.
“Chadwell Thorne. I don’t know anything else. I don’t want to know anything more.”
She perked up, like his name triggered the reaction. “Wait. I know him. He’s Oscar’s best friend.”
Standing up, her chest brushed mine, forcing my eyes to look down the few inches between us. “Well, he fucked up someone. Clave doesn’t handle threats to their best laid plans very well.”
I checked my phone, making sure my mark hadn’t skipped out the back or made a break for it. He was still in his courtside seat, enjoying his swan song.
Abigail’s wheels were turning again, trying to help any way she could. “You could use that, knowing him. I could distract him.”
I was worried about her loving my monster when she was offering up her help on a silver fucking platter.
Slinging my arm around her, both in ski masks, I let myself do something I typically don't: I laughed. Nothing was ever truly funny enough for me to laugh, a real hearty laugh at my life in this moment.
It was a moment I would mark in my memory, whatever room was left up there, that I fell for Abigail even more.
Yanking my door open, I reached under the passenger seat to grab my favorite gun: a matte black Glock with the silencer right by its side. Twisting it onto the end, I tried to focus on the task at hand, not Abigail, brimming with so much anticipation to meet my monster she was bouncing on her toes.
“No mask. That’ll give us away.”
With my hand out, I snatched the pink ski mask from her and tossed it on the seat before I waved her forward. Making sure only to follow six feet behind her, enough to leave room and not seem like we were together.
She was making my job look easy as she shuffled through the crowd that was pouring out of the doors. She waved to who I suspected was the target: Chadwell.
I watched, from a safe distance behind, his joy to see her and the name Oscar blooming between them. I hated Oscar and Chadwell all the same. Both of them had lost their privilege to enjoy Abigail.
Once I had enough of watching her smile for those assholes, I walked up behind him, holding the gun in its ready position before I hugged the trigger back and it sunk into his skull.
Nothing I did left the hope behind that you could be saved. If I couldn’t be saved, then no one else deserved that hope too.
Finding Abigail’s eyes in the chaos that was breaking out when his body fell, I expected to see a look of horror or even panic, but I came up empty.
She was stoic, controlled, and a kind of calm I only ever found at the bottom of a pill bottle.
Taking her hand in mine, I pulled her along with me, while trying to single handedly tuck the gun into the front of my pants. She was still stoic, unruffled, and unconcerned that a guy just dropped dead in front of her. I was impressed, but kind of terrified too.
The priest who made her into her own kind of monster was dead, so I couldn’t thank him for the bride to my Frankenstein.
I didn’t feel bad enough to regret killing him.
Once we reached my car, I watched her closely when I closed the gap between us forcing her back into the car door until she was pressed against it.
“Were you hiding a monster this whole time?”
Abigail massaged her lip between her teeth. “You never asked if I had a monster too. We all build walls around our trauma. That trauma turns into little monsters.”
If her words could knock me over onto my ass and make it literal when people say fall head over heels, that would be the only sign I needed to give in to her.
Pulling out the pack of cigarettes from my hoodie pocket, I placed it between my lips and fished out the lighter. I never smoked, but this moment called for something between whiskey and Xanax.
Leaning against my car, I took a big inhale when Abigail pulled the smoke right from my fingers before bringing it to her mouth.
I fell for her the minute I saved her, and now our monsters had just fallen in love too.
I knew the second I gave in to loving Abigail I had to figure out a way to be together—rules or not.
No one was going to pick a better girl than her. Not the Clave, not my parents, and not some fucking outdated rules.
We had matching monsters, and that was all I needed to accept the love she wanted to hand over to me.
After I dropped Abigail off, I headed straight for my parents' place tucked into the hills of Hollywood to hash out whatever they needed me to do in order to get the stamp of approval.
Pulling up to the house, with the gothic and haunted vibes it threw off even from here, it wasn’t hard to miss all the cars. This many cars screamed something was happening—something I didn’t know about. Jogging up the steps to the mini mansion sitting on the hill, I barged in like I still lived there.
Breezing by the dining room no one used, I came to a halt when I saw a full table out of the corner of my eye. Stopping in the entry way I stared at the Clave members, including the 4 horsemen, eating dinner with my parents.
Khaos perked up from what looked like doodling on his place card, most likely dicks and turning the C in chaos to a K instead. “Thank god. Finally, someone who gets my humor.”
“What are you guys doing here?” My voice was flat and uncaring, even if they did explain.
Vic looked disrespected the most and said, “We have meetings every month; you just never attend them.”
“Yeah, they look so much fun. I can’t believe I don’t attend.” Looking right at my parents, I titled my head cueing the need for privacy, while walking upstairs to my dad’s office.
His office was a terrifying place when I was a kid. All the dark woods, all the old books, the big desk… and when strangers appear in my childhood home, that’s normally where they disappeared to.
It was a place of seriousness.
Closing the door behind me, I rounded a chair in front of the desk after my dad sat in his respected seat behind it. My mom draped herself to his side like a cape.
That’s the thing about the Clave and their rules: There’s always a sensible woman behind a power hungry man. That’s who you needed to convince: her, my mom.
“I have a dilemma… I need to explore something outside the rules.”
They both looked at me through hooded eyes and pensive stares, waiting for more to go on.
“The marriage rule. I need to explore something with someone who isn’t part of all this.”
My father twisted his head to my mother, because he even knew that’s who I was appealing to. Not him. Not the Clave. My own flesh and blood.
“The rules don’t change for even a Rothschild. You will marry Jessica in three years, regardless of however you choose to spend your time now.”
“That rule is fucking ancient, and you know it. I was already forced into a life I didn’t choose and have made me death, and I can’t have one thing in return for doing your bidding?”
“You used to be so much better behaved than this…” She used her tongue like a lash, pretty much the only way she knew how. And people wondered why I was fucked up.
Mommy issues.
“You mean powerless,” I gritted out.
She perched on the desk in a closer proximity to me when she responded to my insult. “And that’s what you’ll stay if I decree it.”