Page 13 of Peaceful Chaos

"Is that where you were today? Looking at houses? There are protocols in place, not to mention security. I don't think moving is a wise decision at the moment."

Lucien grabs the joint from me again. His frustration level is rising if the throbbing vein in his head is any indication. "You aren't living here, so you don't get a say. We're trying to house eight people in a three-bedroom house." He jerks his thumb over at me. "He and my sister go at it like rabbits, so I don't give a fuck about your security protocols. If I don't get some space between my bedroom and theirs, I'm going to lose my shit."

"Like you, Ted, and Amber are any better," I mumble.

"I'm not your brother, asshole," he sneers.

I clutch my chest, pretending to be hurt. "What? I'm married to your sister. We grew up together. What do you mean I'm not your brother?”

He passes the joint back to me. "You know what I mean. Just because I've accepted the two of you doesn't mean I like hearing your domineering ass ordering my sister around in the bedroom. After catching you with that maid in the supply closet last year, I've got too many mental images to imagine what's happening in there."

"I didn't think the two of you could get dumber, but alas you have to prove me wrong again," Holbrook says.

Marks tenses. "Grant, I don't think you're helping yourself. All you're doing right now is proving why they demanded you know nothing about what we were doing today."

Holbrook turns his attention to his partner. "Don't think we won't be discussing this later. I want the addresses and schematics of this property today."

"No fucking way," I snap, the chill provided by the weed slipping away.

"It doesn't matter. It shouldn't be too much longer anyway. I'm not sure we need to go to such drastic measures as buying real estate. The DA said they have enough evidence to move forward with the case. This ruse just needs to last until he's been arrested and arraigned," Holbrook says.

"It must be lovely where you live. Do woodland creatures do your chores while singing songs?" Lucien asks, rolling his eyes.

He throws the joint on the ground and crushes it under his boot. The joking demeanor disappears, and in its place is the cold soldier he was raised to be. "This is another one of those moments, Uncle. We're standing here in front of you, warning you the methods you're using aren't going to work. I'm warning you he will find a way out of this, and yet you insist on putting us all at risk. You said we're reckless, well, look in the mirror, uncle dearest. When this fails, and it will, we're doing this our way."

Holbrook turns to face him. "You know I can't agree to that."

Lucien starts to walk away, but says, without turning back around, "It wasn't a request."

Holbrook stands gaping at the turn in Lucien's demeanor. He still doesn't understand the deep well of darkness that exists inside us. Despite the trauma he experienced losing his sister, he still had a lifetime growing up with parents who loved him. He'll never understand that Lucien uses humor to cover pain and that he smiles when he wants to scream.

"This will work. There's a mountain of evidence. Damien isn't going to weasel his way out of this."

I nod, even though I don't agree with him. "Shoot your shot. But Lucien is right. If it doesn't work the way you think, we do this our way."

I exhale, the stress of the last few days combined with the chemicals racing through my bloodstream are causing me to be overwhelmed with sudden fatigue. "Look, I realize you don't like me. Not much I can do about that, but you are Raven's family. We need to find a way to get along, because I don't want her losing more people. She deserves to have a family."

I start to turn and walk back to the house when he calls out and stops me. "Sin, I shouldn't have said those things to you last night. I was angry and I lashed out."

"Don't beat yourself up. I am a killer; you weren't wrong about that."

I walk away before he can speak another word. There's nothing he can say that I haven't already thought. I'm all the things he said and so much more. I'm still the pretty monster I warned Raven I was when we met. Sin isn't just my nickname, it's who I am. Sin and darkness.

The moment I open the door and enter the house I'm assaulted by incessant racket. It matches the noise inside my head, and all of it makes the feelings of being trapped heavier. The walls press down on me, and it feels like I have to fight for every breath.

Music plays in the living room, while Raven and Jen work in the kitchen. Amber and Ted are once again playing video games, the sounds of simulated gunshots hit me in the chest. Lucien, Ford, and Shane carry on a loud conversation about the school's chances of winning the football season. All the noise combines in my head and spots form in my vision.

Suddenly, I'm not not standing outside of the living room watching my friends and family enjoy each other's company. I'm in a cold basement. Hands grab me roughly, groping and squeezing in places that make my stomach churn.

I'm surrounded by boys and girls all around the same age as me. We're all dirty, too thin from infrequent meals, and hanging on to life by the thinnest threads. Most of us have lost the will to hang on very hard. A gunshot rings out, and a girl topples to the floor. Her muddy eyes dim and stare sightlessly at the ceiling.

My only thought is, she's lucky. She won't feel the pain in her stomach tonight when little or no food is brought down. Most importantly, she doesn't have to deal with this never ending hell anymore.

"Fight or fuck." I smell whiskey as his breath blows past my face.

Fight or fuck.If those are my only two options, I know which one I'm going to choose. I might be longing for death, but I know it won't be an easy one. Nothing in life is easy. At least not when you're a slave.

I viciously bite down on the hand covering my mouth until the metallic tang of blood fills my mouth. He shouts out a curse and backhands me so hard I fall to the floor. My head slams against the concrete. I fight the waves of nausea and scramble away from him as fast as I can. I'm slow, as I crab walk backwards, too afraid to turn my back on him.

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