Page 45 of These Monstrous Ties
Burning down Brooklin’s house had been a message.
A warning.
She never stayed there anymore. No girl ever stayed apart from Jeremiah once he decided to make them his. They never lasted this long either, and aside from a few brawls and knife torture, I’d never known Jeremiah to seek retribution against someone who had offended his girl. He replaced them too quickly to develop that kind of feeling. He was protective in that he didn’t want to share what was his, but aside fromme, I’d never known him to be up in arms possessive. He tossed them aside, in the trash.
Literally. At least, I wouldn’t have been surprised. I certainly never saw any of his exes, and I couldn’t imagine he’d let them live after what they knew.
Jeremiah and the Order of Rain is always under investigation from the police. The Rain mansion as a whole is always under investigation. But the thing about police is that they like money, too. And if you pay enough, they’ll look the other way. And if you take care of their families, they’ll pretend to be deaf to the rumors.
And Jeremiah paid better than anyone in Alexandria. In the whole goddamn state, probably.
Except for, maybe, the Unsaints themselves.
They’re above it all.
If he’d killed me downstairs in that foyer, no one would have known except the people in there. And no one would have cared.
Even Nicolas would have moved on. He’d seen death on repeat since he’d started working with my brother. Probably before then, too.
Kristof would’ve toasted Jeremiah later on in their “club”; the biggest bar in the hotel that was for “boys only”.
Fuck them all.
I glance down at the pavement below, the marble fountain of a gargoyle. I wonder if I’ll die if I jump. I’m only on the seventh floor, but there are about twenty more above me. I could climb to the top.
I glance up at the stars. It’s strange to know that Lucifer might be looking up at the same ones. Might be thinking of my death, too. He might be wondering what it would feel like to snap my neck in his hands.
Or he might be remembering what my blood tastes like.
Like I’m remembering his.
I wonder if he has more kids with Julie. I didn’t think to ask Nicolas that. I’m not sure I want to know. But it’ll make it hurt a little more. It’ll twist the knife in a little deeper, and maybe that’s exactly what I need. Because even though I will kill him, and gladly, I can’t stop fucking thinking about him.
The taste of him.
His hands on me.
His voice in my ear.
His scent.
His blood.
His lies.
I press my palm against my forehead.
I want him out.
You can run Lilith, but you can’t hide. Not from me.
Same to you, Lucifer.
Same to you.
Chapter Fifteen
Present
