Page 103 of These Monstrous Ties
Something seems to change in the air between us.
His hands are still in his pockets, and he doesn’t move closer, but something in his demeanor changes. It’s like he’s morphing from broken boy into whatever it is that an Unsaint actually is.
“Lover’s Death is only the least of what we do,” he says, and there is no longer any emotion in his words. “It’s an illusion. It’s a rite. But it really, truly, means nothing. But you…you know things. Jeremiah knew things. And I let him walk out of here, alive, for you.” His eyes narrow.
“I don’t know shit about you and your cult friends,” I say, growing angrier. I shake my head and stuff my hands into my pockets. “What happens next to Jeremiah isn’t my concern.” I make to walk past him.
He grabs my arm. “If you have my kid, you might live.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “I gave you that chance, at least.”
I yank my arm out of his grip. “You’re just as bad as my brother,” I spit at him.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.” He shrugs. “You haveno ideahow much more the Unsaints can hurt you.”
I step closer to him, rage making my hands shake. “Are you threatening me? After what we went through? You really want to do that right now?”
He smiles. It’s empty. He slips his hands back into his pockets and shakes his head. “It’s like I told you, Lilith. You can run, but you can’t hide.”
I roll my eyes and step around him, heading out of my brother’s room.
“Stay here one night,” he says at my back. “One more night. Just givehimenough time to get far away from you. Because if I see him again, Sid, I’ll kill him. You won’t be able to stop me.” His voice hardens. This is Lucifer. An Unsaint.
I brush my bangs out of my eyes, turning his words over. His threats.
I let out a breath. “Okay,” I finally say, without looking at him. “But if you try to stop me when I leave, it won’t end well for you, either.” I turn to glance at him.
His full lips curve into a small half smile, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.
Despite what I’d said, despite agreeing with him, his eyes are still cold.
Chapter Thirty-One
Present
Nicolas triesto talk to me. Trey tries to talk to me.
I want nothing to do with them. I don’t fire them or send them away, because I’ll be leaving the next day. But I have nothing to say to them. After I left Lucifer on the eighth floor, I went down to my own rooms. They’re clean, and they don’t smell like Jeremiah. They don’t feel like Jeremiah. But the bathroom…I don’t want to go in there.
He had cleaned my foot in there. He had told me he loved me in there.
All the while, he knew.
Kristof has made himself scarce. I don’t know where he is, and I don’t care. If he was smart, he’d leave. But then again, he’d never been very smart.
I force myself to take a shower. I dress in black yoga pants, black tank top, and pull on my black tennis shoes. I put a gun on the holster on my hip, taken from my own closet, and then I make my way down to the gym.
I need to move, but I don’t want to go outside yet. I don’t want to see anyone else in this Godforsaken place.
The gym is empty. I plan on making sure it stays that way, too. If anyone comes in, I’ll threaten to blow their fucking heads off. And if they don’t leave, well…I’m not so sure I won’t actually pull the trigger.
I start on the treadmill, enjoying the sound of my own breathing. I hadn’t brought my phone down, or anything to play music. I just want to drown in myself. My own grief in my head. I need it to consume me, so maybe it will burn through me.
I glance at my reflection in the mirror. I’m pale, shadows beneath grey eyes. My hair is still wet from my shower, my bangs cover my brows. I realize I’ve done this whole workout and shower thing in the wrong order. Fuck it. Everything in my life has gone in the wrong order.
Jeremiah crosses my mind.
I hope he dies from it, the guilt. I hope it eats him alive. I hope it’s his guilt that kills him.
I’m so focused on those thoughts of vengeance, and the flashes of my own guilt that threaten to sneak in under my hate, that I don’t notice two people have come in until they’re right behind me, staring at me in the mirror.
