Page 245 of Like Grim Death: Part One
“I’ll be in the basement.” It comes out like a whisper, my eyes blurring. I think of Atlas feeding Ella pills or powder or whatever the fuck he’s given her. All the things she didn’t say in our rendezvous, but after tonight, I don’t have the energy to pry them out of her and I know it’s a mistake. I know I’m fucking up.
And what did Lucifer ask me?“Have you beat your plaything’s secrets out ofheryet?”
“He cannot come here Maverick—”
A scream leaves my throat. It’s a snarl, a cry, something jagged and raw. I slam my fist on the table and it jumps. I’m grateful for the thick walls, the way the girls won’t hear me. But I look up at Lucifer, my chest heaving, short nails digging into my palms as I keep my fist on the fucking table.
“For once,” I whisper, pressure building behind my eyes. “For once, letmehave a fucking moment, okay? For fuckingoncein our goddamn lives, let it beme.”
Lucifer’s hands are in his hair, his blue eyes locked on mine. “That wasmymom, you know? That was my fuckingmom!” He’s screaming the words, his voice hysterical. “They killed her. They murdered her for a snuff film, to get her out of the way, and when I find Arlo Estere, I am going to—”
“My mother is dead too.” I snap it out, and I hate myself for the callousness, but I can’t be here for him right now. Not anymore. There’s too much in my head, because it was mysisterwho was lying on that floor like Lucifer’s mom. My fuckingsister.“My mother is dead, and my father, and my sisters’ lives are ruined and I’m doing the same to Ella and I’ve done it to Ria. Ineedthis.”
Lucifer drops his hands. His shoulders curve. “What will he do for you?” he finally asks, his voice hoarse. “What will he do for you that I can’t?”
I shake my head once, staring down at my hand. Malachi’s name along the side of it. Sid’s too. I imagine Ella’s, how it should be more prominent. How she should be more seen. And all I say is, “Let me have it. When it’s over, we’ll regroup. Elijah is fortifying this place, and Mikhail can’t get in. He won’t risk it. But I have to think, and Tomas is the only way I can.”
I kneel in the early morning hours, my hands on my thighs, eyes closed. I hear Father Tomas circling around me. The whispers of the tails from the whip gliding along the concrete of the basement are loud in my ears. So is the sound of my pulse, rapidly thrumming through my head. Sweat beads along my bare back, the cement hard against my knees even with my sweats on.
“We could talk about this.” Father Tomas’s voice is low, and intimately familiar. I’ve known him since I was a child. But until Mikhail kidnapped me, I assumed we kept this secret between us. I’ve seen Elijah look at me when I shift in my chair at Council though, pressing the wounds of my back against my seat. He probably knows.
I can’t really find it in me to care. Tomas potentially saved our fucking lives, no matter what he’s about to wreck me with.
Lucifer didn’t want him here and he doesn’t even know about his connection to Mikhail. But we have guards surrounding Pluvia and it’s not as if I’m letting Father Tomasleaveafter he’s done. Not until we all do.
Things aren’t fixed with my brother or with Sid, after the fight. Despite coming together for a brief moment, we aren’t feeling any warmth toward one another and I know Lucifer is probably upset I’m letting him grieve what happened to his mother on his own, but that’s what Sid is for. He needs to turn to her.
Just like I should be turning to Ella.Hypocrite.
But I can’t face her. It means I have to ask about the drugs, I have to dive into the rabbit hole, I need to apologize again, and maybe Brooklin was right, about her being tested, and I just…I need to clear my head with pain, then I can work through everything else.
For now, I meant what I told Ella after the fight with Sid and Lucifer.
She deserves better.I can’t blame her for being friendly with Atlas. Taking drugs from him. I can’t blame her for anything, and I almost wish she did not exist in my life.
I almost hope she escapes to something far fucking better than me.
Brooklin’s lack of replies to any of the private questions I had for her about Liar’s Island or Shadow Villa tell me exactly what I need to know.I am fucked up, and everyone too close to me ends up exactly the same.
I don’t answer Father Tomas. But inside my head, Malachi is running, running,runningto that balcony.Inside my head, my father is screaming, screaming,screaming.And my mother…
I tiptoe around the corner of their room.
I heard something, from down the hall.
Brooklin is gone, away for a ballet camp.
Malachi is sleeping. I checked there first.
It was a strangled sound, abruptly cut off.
My palms are pressed to the wall, and I blink, my mouth going dry as I see it. My mother is on the floor, and Dad is pacing, running his fingers through his hair.
There’s blood on Mom’s mouth as she brings her thumb to her lips, her eyes red, her face pale. I lift my eyes to Dad, still pacing, his hands on his hips as he hangs his head.
“I’m sorry.” Those words come from Mom as she struggles to sit up. “Maddox, I’m so sorry.” She swallows, trying to push to her feet, her silk robe untied, falling open.
I look at the ground, my heart thundering in my head. Dad is bigger than me. Stronger than me. What can I do? But I feel like a coward even as I think it, my face heating and my heart drumming hard in my chest.
