Page 104 of These Monstrous Ties
I finish my sprint, locking eyes with Mayhem as I do, glancing once at Atlas. Only after I’m done do I slowly come to a stop. I wipe my wrist over my brow. I’m breathing hard and sweating worse. I turn to glare at them, waiting for them to speak. To tell me why the fuck they’re here. I know they have their own mansions to go to. They can fuck right off. But maybe Lucifer told them my plans.
Hell, maybe they’ve come to kill me.
Atlas has on a backwards cap, dark jeans, a red shirt that stops at his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms. Mayhem is wearing a a tight black shirt and black jeans. His arms are crossed as he stares at me.
I’m thankful I’m still on the treadmill. It doesn’t make me taller than them, but at least I don’t have to look up to meet their eyes.
“You’re leaving.” Mayhem doesn’t phrase it as a question, which is a good sign. But why he gives a fuck is beyond me. Maybe he’s come to threaten me, too.
I don’t bother to say anything. I just keep staring at him, waiting for one of them to get to the point.
He sighs, turns from me and sits on one of the weight benches, facing me again. He has his elbows on his knees, palms rubbing together. He’s looking at the floor, dark brows furrowed.
I glance at Atlas in question. Atlas laughs.
“Hey, this is Mayhem’s mayhem. I’m just here for shits and giggles.” He leans in toward me, lowers his voice conspiratorially. “And to make sure he doesn’t fuck you again.”
Mayhem flicks him off. I roll my eyes.
No one else speaks.
I wait.
“Did you know that Lucifer talked about you every fucking day for a year straight?” Mayhem finally asks. His voice is low, but he doesn’t wait for me to respond. “Every goddamn day. I felt the guilt, of course, because he’d never wanted your brother in the Unsaints. I’d convinced him to let it happen. Convinced him a rich fuck who shot his abusive foster parentsneededto be with us.” He meets my gaze again, but his baby blue eyes are hooded. His expression is unreadable. “Your brother was never good at taking ‘no’ for an answer anyway.” He sighs. “He never got the tattoo. At least I can say it didn’t get that far.”
My gut churns. I grip the edge of the treadmill at my side, thinking I might be sick if Mayhem keeps talking. But I still don’t say anything. Atlas wanders off, picking up and setting down various sized weights.
“Me and Lucifer,” he continues, “we’ve known each other since we were kids. We grew up in the same neighborhood, but his life was a little different than mine.” He threads his fingers together, moving his fists up and down. He looks like he’s reflecting on their life together. I know Lucifer probably sent him here. I know I should be angry and tell him to get the fuck away from me. To stop trying to guilt-trip me, or scare me. But I also find myself imagining Lucifer, as a child. I imagine his stepmother’s cruelties. What he must have went through to become what he is. What they all must have gone through, even if they were rich and spoiled.
“My dad is a dick, but Lucifer’s…he was absent. And his stepmother…” He shakes his head, and I watch him swallow. “Well, she wasn’t any better than your brother.” He meets my gaze again.
I feel that wave of nausea all over again.
“His father is in legitimate business. But he didn’t mind throwing Lucifer to the wolves, letting him into the darker side of business. Letting him take the Unsaints from rich kid secret society to corporate crimes for hire. Before that, his father didn’t say a damn thing when Lucifer tried to tell him what his stepmom was doing. No,” Mayhem snorts with disgust. “He told him he was a liar and no wife of his would want to fuck his son, so he could stop trying to get her to.” He licks his lips, glares at me. “And believe me, Sid. The Society of 6 has more power than the Unsaints. His father could have made his stepmom disappear if he’d wanted to.”
I close my eyes for a second, try to fight back against the images Mayhem’s words conjure in my head.
“His mom died when he was little. She’s the one that named him Lucifer.” I blink but say nothing. He laughs. “She was weird, I’ve heard. A good weird. He’d also been close to her, as a kid. She had worshiped him, my own mom said. But she was killed in a car accident, and Lucifer lost the only woman who ever loved him, for good.”
Mayhem is smiling now.
“Obviously, women threw themselves at the dude. I mean…those eyes.” He lifts his brows, laughing. “But he used them, just like they used him. For money. Sex. Status. And then he met you.” His eyes narrow on me, and I feel a flurry in my gut. But it doesn’t feel like sickness anymore. “He met you, and Jeremiah’s true colors came out. He wrecked both of your worlds.”
I finally speak, the words raw in my throat. “I know what happened. I don’t need to hear it again.”
“I think you do,” Mayhem argues. “I think you don’t get it.” I tense, but say nothing. “You think Jeremiah only wrongedyou?”His voice is cold. “Nah, Angel. This isn’t just your revenge. This is all of ours. He knows too much.” He stands to his feet and walks toward me. He stops, looking down for a second, then he brushes his thumb over his lip and meets my gaze again. “This all might be yours,” he huffs a laugh, shaking his head, “but the secrets your brother has…” His eyes narrow. “They’re ours.” He yanks my arm, pulling me off the treadmill so he’s looking down at me. “Lucifer has always been too soft. But me? I’m not even close. So you might think Jeremiah got away with this, but he didn’t. He’s a liability. And since you’ve spent the past year living with him, well,” he shrugs, “so are you.”
Atlas whistles, amused, somewhere beyond Mayhem.
Mayhem flashes a cold smile. “Say your goodbyes to your brother’s idiot guards before you leave, Angel. You won’t see them again. And when you get on that train, do some digging. Lucifer’s last name, it’s Malikov.” He leans down until he’s close enough for our breath to mingle. “You see, we needed you to lead us to Jeremiah. Jeremiah to lead us to you. But we don’t really need either of you anymore. So I hope that wherever you go, you’re always looking over your shoulder. Because we’ll always know where you are,Lilith.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Present
I leave that night.
But I don’t get on the train. Instead, I look for Ria. I leave in one of my brother’s black SUVs, and the guards say nothing as I pass through the gates of the hotel. I don’t look for Lucifer, even though a part of me wants to. I don’t say a word to any of the Unsaints about my leaving.
