Page 88 of These Monstrous Ties
People listen.
They scatter, as if he physically pushed them away.
But Ophelia and I stay where we are. Lucifer still has Mayhem’s collar in his fist and he’s yelling in his face.
“What the fuck did you do? What did you fucking do?”
Mayhem wipes his nose, which is bleeding, and Ezra puts his hand on Lucifer’s chest, forcing him away.
Mayhem’s eyes find mine and he grins. Lucifer looks between us as if he’s going to throw us both in the fucking fire and watch our bodies disintegrate.
“Ask your girl,” Mayhem croons.
Lucifer’s fists, covered in blood, clench, but Ezra gives him a warning look, still holding Mayhem by his shirt.
I feel Ophelia’s eyes on me. “Are you and Lucifer…” she trails off, letting the question hang between us.
I meet her green eyes, my brow furrowed. “I was going to ask you the same.”
At this, she bursts into laughter, shaking her head. I feel my cheeks go warm, but a smile creeps on my face. And now is not the time to be smiling. Damn Natalie.
“No, no,” Ophelia says, shaking her head again, her ponytail flying. “No, we grew up on the same street.” I see her white teeth, smooth skin, eyelash extensions, spray tan. I mean, she looks like she comes from money, but compared to me, most people here do.
My mouth falls open.
I look to Mayhem. He winks at me.
That bastard knew.
Lucifer walks by me and yanks my arm as he does. “We need to talk,” he says through clenched teeth. I gawk at Mayhem as Lucifer pulls me up the porch and into the house, slamming the door behind us.
Cain is fucking the girl I saw him with earlier.
“Don’t mind us,” he grunts out.
We don’t.
Lucifer pulls me up the stairs instead. He pushes me into my room, flicks on the light, and closes the door. Then he starts to pace, his arms crossed. He’s looking down at the floor. I sink onto the bed, cross my legs, and run my hand through my hair.
“What happened with Mayhem?” he asks me, his voice low.
“N-nothing,” I stutter. I’m not afraid to tell him. I just don’t really wanna say it. He’s got blood on the corner of his upper lip, and I want to lick it off, but I force my eyes down to the quilted bedspread underneath me. I clasp my hands together, waiting.
“Don’t lie to me.” He still hasn’t looked at me. He’s still looking down.
“We’re not together,” I choke out.
He doesn’t stop pacing. “No shit.”
“So why does it—”
He stops pacing and sinks down to his knees in front of me, his hands on my legs, squeezing hard. “It doesn’t fucking matter, Sid!” He shakes his head and sighs. “It doesn’t fucking matter. You’re right. It doesn’t matter at all.” He lets go of one leg and gestures wildly behind him. “It doesn’t matter if I fuck every girl here, does it? Doesn’t matter at all.”
Now it’s my turn to get angry. I know I shouldn’t. It isn’t fair at all. It doesn’t make sense. “No,” I force myself to say, meeting his gaze.
He chews his lip and stands to his feet, glaring down at me. “There’s nothing between us, is there?”
I shake my head. Suddenly, I wish I had more of Natalie’s pills.
