THE SACRIFICE: Secret Society Romance (4Horsemen Series Book 3) Page 19

  ETHAN

  I would do anything for Khaos, including inviting myself to all of his parties that I’m not actually invited to. Instead, I organize them and let his girlfriends take the credit for my work.

  Stupid bitches couldn’t even do their job right- one their paid to do.

  I watched him all night, flirting and following around that girl like a lost puppy. Keeping my hood and bandana on, he never saw me in the crowd of people.

  Not when his attention was on her.

  He never noticed me sitting across from the bottle of vodka when they decided to play truth or dare.

  He never noticed me in his bathroom peering out of a crack to see his tongue feed her drugs.

  He never even noticed me hiding outside of the tree house when he panicked, and she cured him with her vagina.

  He never noticed me.

  I took notes, inventory, became a version of myself that fit right into his life the way he needed, yet I still went unnoticed unless it was a quickie in the office.

  I wasn’t about to let some street rat be noticed over me.

  After I watched Khaos fall asleep with his head on her stomach, I decided the best way to fight this was taking a page out of the book they felt so comfortable comparing their love to. I was going to have to work faster than the poison he was ready to drink for this girl before I lost him.

  KHAOS

  I spent exactly four Pop Tarts this morning trying to convince Kennedy to drive me to work but she shot me down every time.

  Ubering didn’t make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. It was mundane and ordinary when I was born a different breed.

  Waiting at the end of your driveway for an Uber is pathetic when the house behind you looks like mine. It didn’t help the ride to be a silent one either. The entire way to work I had to field questions about my house, if my car was broken, or if I’m big on YouTube or TikTok. That’s the narrative I would normally run with because it begs a lot less questions then saying no and not being able to say I’m in a cult.

  Not your mommy and daddy’s kind though.

  Pulling up to the curb, the driver stopped, and I pretended my ear buds were on the entire time while I blocked him out in favor of looking at my phone’s background. Birdy, in the water, on her board as the sun set with me right next to her, only I’m behind the camera taking the photo.

  A genuine smile captured right after a laughing fit.

  I was pretty convinced I was the only person who saw the real her- saw her at all. She was like a blonde ghost walking around LA blending in with all the other pretty. She wasn’t the other kind of pretty LA was known for though, she was special because her kind of pretty hurt in a way that made you wanna dig deeper.

  I’m Patrick Swayze and this is Ghost.

  Today needed to be over with already and that was coming off a straight week of running out of here like the building was on fire as soon as lunch hit. I never ditched work, but for her, I’d quit.

  Today was different than my normal kind of antsy though.

  Today was the day Birdy agreed to our first date because I reminded her that pinky promises you kiss can’t be broken.

  The Uber driver pulled off the sidewalk and I dropped my board, skating down to the entrance when a black Q7 Audi pulled up beside me. The Clave is exclusive to Mercades and the cars the guys drove. Combing through my sober mind I tried to figure out who owned an Audi and came up short as the window eased down.

  I barely remembered his face, but his voice? That shit creeped down my spine with intent to kill. “I made it clear I don’t like to repeat myself, Death Wish. Now I’m hunting you down to prove that to you.”

  His window went back up as I pushed down on my lighter and watched my joint burn at the end. I was going to need it between this guy and working for five long hours until date night.

  The back door flew open and the same big guy from last time grabbed onto me with an iron fist I had no business trying to free myself from. He pushed me into the car as I placed the joint between my lips trying to at least save that if I wasn’t able to save my dignity.

  “Okay, okay. Chill. What do you guys want this time? Whatever it is I need to be back by 4, I have plans.”

  The guy clearly in charge, laughed in this sinister way that put Bowen to shame. “You think you’re coming back? “An icy laughter filled the car, and I knew getting home in time for Birdy was seeming impossible now.

  The big guy next to me was cramping my side of the back seat when he plucked the joint from my fingers mid puff and in one quick twist of the wrist, I felt the sting against my skin. He dabbed the end of my joint on my forearm again and again until it was completely out.

  I gritted my teeth down keeping quiet when I realized this shit wasn’t a joke, wasn’t a warning, wasn’t funny the way I thought it was. I was a cult member without any of the gusto. I didn’t have the edge he did with my clean hands.

  That was the exact edge all the guys had over me, while I threw parties, had orgies, and avoided any of the serious stuff.

  Pulling out my phone, not to call for help, but to look at Birdy again, it was snatched out of my hand with force. “I wasn’t calling anyone! I’m just looking at the background!” The big guy handed it over to the one in charge even though he didn’t ask for it.

  Okay, maybe that was dumb… sue me I wanted one last look before this guy merks me.

  His hand clutched my phone with such a fierce look on his face that the silence in the car got heavier. So heavy it was hard to inhale without buying into the feeling I wasn’t escaping this kind of trouble.

  Pulling up to a shipyard, all the containers were black and matte instead of the usual colorful ones you see in movies. This wasn’t some public space; this was his territory and I was simply fucked. The big guy rounded the car to pull me out, grasping my arm so tight it felt like all my muscles liquified.

  “Cool spot. You guys come here often?” I tried to laugh off the seriousness even though it was firm on staying put.

  I was laughing on the outside, but this experience certainly fell into the negative category of life.

  I wasn’t shining the way I really could with the faulty light, poor acting, and the director being some asshole who wasn’t letting me method my way through the scene.

  In an empty building ahead amongst all the storage units I saw a single table and chair amongst the debris. It looked like an old factory with big windows and graffiti decorating the cement walls. It would be a sick place to skate, shaking the thought from my head I tried to focus.

  My ADHD was in full swing.

  The big guy forced me to sit at the table, feeling the cold from the metal chair seep through my jeans, tickling my ass, as his hands stayed on my shoulders like I would attempt to run. I wasn’t that stupid depsite Vic’s image of me and minus the fact that I pulled out my phone earlier.

  Being smart had nothing to do with being fun. You can have it all even if he doesn’t.

  The one I’m supposed to fear walked back into the room with two bigger guys flanking him. He looked like any other shady guy would with the tattoos and rings on every finger like it was the only real gold they owned so why not show it off. I was great with names and faces yet I couldn’t get the tip of my tongue to regurgitate it.

  Some kind of bird.

  “I hear you didn’t take me seriously after I visited you at work. I pissed all over your life and yet you keep selling.” Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he sat down in the chair across from me at the stupidly simple metal table.

  Yawning, I found his eyes finally remembering his name when I blurted out, “Dove Toledano, popular thief and bachelor. You’re also the guy losing clients because my shit is better and well… free.”

  With some know-how and ten minutes I could find almost anyone and get any kind of information. Dove Toledano wasn’t hard to find if you didn’t already know about him. He was gaining some infamy in LA throwing around his new money, fancy cars, and the accent that made
women’s panties melt.

  New money is never as good as old money.

  He had a temper that you could feel, not see, and my smart-ass mouth was about to meet that temper. The two big dudes stood next to me on either side when I felt Dove grab my hand, forcing my body flush against the table with one jerk. Holding my hand, palm down, I struggled to get free knowing it was the hand I used to jack off.

  There was no verbal warning, no threats, and no talking himself up.

  Only action.

  My breath was agitated and so out of rhythm it resembled a huff now and I felt myself in trouble. For the first time in my life my smile didn’t blind away my faults and my honey voice didn’t sweet talk it’s way out of the panic I hadn’t felt before.

  I was used to causing the trouble, not being neck deep in the fallout.

  Dove sat on the table, still holding my hand down when the big guy handed him a hammer and I felt my stomach drop down to the floor. “Wait, come on guys, this is all a misunderstanding. I can pay. I have plenty of money.”

  Dove’s voice was the kind of slow that made it sound like he was thinking out loud, “I tried to reason with you, but you didn’t hear me. Now you will feel me.”

  Taking the hammer and raising it up high enough to do some damage I felt myself stop breathing.

  So, this is what repercussions feel like. Not a fan.

  I was about to feel the full force of twenty-five years of avoiding trouble come down and crash whatever resilience I had in me that charged into chaos.

  Screwing my eyes shut, I forced myself to not look when the hammer came down on the center of my hand. It knocked the breath right out of me even though I didn’t move a muscle and the only thing I felt was the sweat coating my skin. I knew it was broken immediately, wouldn’t be the first time and probably not the last.

  Hurting myself came with the imposter syndrome and animal I caged inside of me daily. I held onto them too closely and made sure I was the only one to get hurt.

  Now someone else was doing the hurting.

  Just when I thought I had paid the price of pissing off someone like Dove, he held my hand still and lifted the hammer again only to let it drop down on my already mangled bones once more.

  I felt my body pulse and slow down the way it does when any real kind of pain tries to take over. It blooms inside of you in the opposite way Birdy’s legs bloomed for me.

  Birdy. I tried to focus on her when I let my goddamn mouth try to compensate for the pain when I said, “I see your gangster and raise you… cult member. Pretty sure this isn’t going to fly with the people above our paygrades.”

  His eyes found mine, the nearly black irises digging into my soul trying to corrupt me into needing him to navigate. Speaking slowly like he knew my heart was over working and my lungs weren’t breathing. “I’ve been paying attention… you’re the cult’s fuck up and no one is going to think anything of this. Just another accident caused by Khaos.”

  The part that pissed me off is that he wasn’t wrong.

  I was the fuck up, the spoiled brat, the one who caused the trouble and watched everyone else deal with the consequences.

  Swallowing the pain, I tried to wrangle my mangled hand back but his hand on my forearm kept my hand flat against the table. He was going to let me go when it suited him and not any sooner. Finally letting go, my eyes flooded with unshed tears as I took my hand back carefully holding it to my chest.

  The pain was bearable, but not when you’re this sober.

  I must have passed out when I felt the big guy pull me up by my shirt, yanking me forward and stepping carefully until the car stopped in front of us with a shriek from the tires. Opening the door, he shoved me inside while I babied my arm trying to keep everything away from it. Forcing my eyes on the window tints, I soaked up every clue I could about this place.

  Dove Toledano just called me weak, the cult’s fuck up, and tried to throw his weight around like it was more than my own. I was seething on the inside, well, I would be if the pain ever died down enough for me to feel more than one thing.

  I was sweating, feeling it trickle down my temples and was trying not to look at my hand otherwise I would throw up. There was too much blood to see much but if you looked hard enough, you’d see the muscles and bones peeking through.

  KHAOS

  My head was against the cold window as Dove’s voice shook me awake, the kind where your body refuses to stop shaking afterwards when he rolled up to my gate. “Home sweet home, no? Remember I’m always watching.”

  The big guy leaned over, pushing my door open before he shoved me out of the car. I was still trying to recover as my eyes adjusted to the sun going down. I wanted to check the time, but my phone was stolen and I wasn’t about to get it back.

  I turned back around to the unmistakable sound of the window rolling down as Dove said, “We kept you around for the day while your hand healed. I don’t like my work to be fixed. I want you to live with your mistakes for once.”

  My head was spinning, my body felt dizzy, and I couldn’t make anything out that made sense. I saw my house behind the gate and bile crawled up from my stomach threatening to come up when I rushed to the bushes realizing he knew just as much about me as I did him.

  No hiding.

  No lying.

  No way out of it this time.

  I could barely punch in the code for my gate after throwing up the entire contents of my stomach which wasn’t much since all I ate was Pop-Tarts. Stepping on the edge of the gate, I held on riding it as it opened inward showcasing a long driveway and too much green grass.

  Was I drugged? Why was my head spinning so fast?

  Pushing my hand into my hoodie pocket, I tried to conceal it as I trekked down the driveway only to realize Kennedy’s car was missing which was one weight off my shoulders. I was still sweating bullets when I made it to the side door that was never not locked, and it twisted free without a key which I managed to open without using my broken hand.

  Almost there, I just needed to sit down or gobble up some pills.

  The house was dark, quiet, a different place without all the girls living here still. Taking a few steps into the open kitchen I hit the side table where everyone used to drop their keys and grunted at the new pain, I threw on the pile when the lights came on, on their own. Still shaking and dizzy, I snapped upright darting my eyes around to see Birdy sitting on my kitchen island.

  She twisted the light bulb into place when her arms folded against her chest, “You pinky promised… You made me like you, made me fall for your charms and even promise to go on a date with you when you know I’m off limits.”

  Her eyes were soft even though her features were practically made of stone as she grilled me for answers.

  “What time is it?” I let my question ignore her statements as I moved around the kitchen trying to find another one of my hiding spots. I needed pain meds stat.

  Following me with her eyes, she barked, “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s your excuse? What were you actually doing? I knew this would happen.”

  I know I fucked up. I broke the kind of promise that couldn’t be broken by the look on her face. Was I extremely late or would my smile fix this?

  “Birdy, please stop talking for one second. Just give me one second and we’ll go on our date.”

  Still rifling through the drawers, I found a bottle of yellow Percocets with 325 on the side signifying these were the stronger dose.

  Good, I would need it.

  I took four of them and swallowed without any water when I took a deep inhale pivoting around to Birdy. Leaning against the island on my good arm I finally took her in, “Wow.”

  “Don’t try to disarm me. I’m mad at you.”

  Her arms were folded over her chest and I could tell this was far beyond her normal look in her floral romper, little boots, some makeup, and her hair twisted into something related to curls. She looked like a goddamn angel only here to bless me with her presence.

>   “You can be mad at me while I apologize. Something truly awful came up, but I’m here now. I’m really sorry, okay? Shall we?” I offered her my good hand when she slid down from the island without my help, still not taking my hand.

  “There’s blood on your hoodie…” She looked mortified staring down at my hoodie pocket where my hand was hidden, clearly not well.

  Ignoring her remark, I took her hand and dragged her behind me until she planted herself down in place making it impossible. “It’s nothing, Birdy. I’ve been looking forward to this all week, come on, let’s go.”

  I went to walk away when her hand dragged me right back. Rubber and glue came to mind again… you know, the same one.

  Her eyes were welled up and ready to burst which sent my already damaged system into overload. She wasn’t the kind of girl who cried or waited around for dates. She was tough as nails and I hammered her in wrong.

  My good hand grasped her hip when I bent down to meet her gaze, “Hey, hey, don’t cry. We’re gonna go on the date, baby. I’m so sorry I was late... I don't know how late... but it’s fine.” Ringing my arm around her neck I pulled her into my side, trying to bite back my own tears just from seeing her hurt.

  “You’re bleeding. Show me,” her eyes weren’t any drier when she forced me to take my hand out that I honestly couldn’t feel anymore.

  Maybe that was a good thing.

  Taking it out with my good hand, I let her see just how mangled and swollen it was. It looked like I put it through a meat grinder, yet it still resembled the shape of a hand.

  Her face fell and her fingers flew to her mouth when she twisted around throwing up into the bushes the same way I did earlier. Holding my hand against my chest I let my good hand rub her back trying to help her through my injury.

  If she was sticking around then this was good practice.

  “This is nothing… a few weeks to heal at most.” Everything about me was casual. I guess when you break this many bones it seems casual. The only thing not casual was Birdy being so emotional, she liked being a blank slate, tempting me to speak her lingo and I was picking it up quickly.