Chapter Fourteen
Electra
Sometimes, the endless, overzealous activity and cohabitating dynamics in this clubhouse are too much for me to bear. Maybe it’s because I’ve mostly been alone without a lot of interaction with others before being accepted into this ragtag family, but since Cyrus decided we were on a lockdown of sorts, most of the men spend their days milling around. Everywhere I turn I’m bumping into one of them since they’re bored and looking for something to occupy their time. I’m still not quite used to the random, sporadic fights that break out, but Harmony lowered the boom a few days ago and said they needed to keep it confined to the cage they use for their sparring matches.
Right now, I’m sitting with Jazzy as she works through some worksheets her teacher kindly sent back with Big Daddy so she wouldn’t get behind her class, who went to the school to pick up the packets for both girls. Harmony is researching her grimoire once again, hoping to find something else significant we can use to unravel this current mystery. The prospects are fixing the holes in the wall, which is what precipitated Harmony’s halt decree, while one of the patched members puts new furniture together that was ordered to replace the ones they destroyed during one of their ‘whose dick is bigger’ fights.
“Electra, what does this mean?” Jazzy asks, pointing to a question on her sheet that she’s been staring at for the last several minutes. The faces she’s made at the mathematical equation are priceless. If she could make the paper burst into flames it’d already be a pile of ash. “I don’t understand.”
Pulling the paper to me, I quickly read the instructions then glance at the problem Jazzy’s stuck on. “I have no idea, I haven’t seen a problem laid out like that before, but I’ll look and see if we can’t figure out how to solve it,” I reply, pulling my laptop close.
Within minutes, I have a video tutorial pulled up from a link I found online that shows step by step instructions on solving common core math problems. As I watch it and take notes in order to explain it to Jazzy in a way she’d understand, she chatters on about her parents, Big Daddy, Sage, and of course, her Uncle Jabba.
“I hope he can do my hair,” she murmurs, pulling me from my ‘online’ learning.
“When, sweetie? Maybe me or your mom can do it for you if he’s busy,” I reply.
“I wanted to have it done like the characters in the Grinch movie,” she says. “Do they have that on the computer?”
Shrugging, I open up the search bar and type it in, then turn the laptop screen toward her. “Looks like they do, Jazzy.”
“Yay! Now, what about my math?” This time, she’s a little more subdued and I have to hide my giggle that wants to slip out. She doesn’t really like math all that much, not that many kids her age do, as well as a few adults, but she excels in reading and creative writing.
“Let’s see if this makes sense,” I tell her, using a scrap piece of paper, I follow the directions I jotted down, following each step accordingly.
“Gah, that was rough,” I say to Jabba as we walk around the property after dinner. This has become one of my favorite ways to unwind after a laborious day of scouring text and lores. “Why are they changing how basic math problems are solved? I mean, I get that there are often many ways to arrive at the answer, but that common core shit is just that, shit.”
He bursts out laughing then replies, “I was thinking that when Cyrus said she was going to be homeschooled for the foreseeable future. His patience level on a good day is negligible, and having helped her a few times with her math, I knew that common core would toss him into the deep end.”
“So, it’s probably a good thing she’s being homeschooled then,” I muse.
He pulls me closer and leans down to kiss me. “Yeah, Nymph, it’s a very good thing. The club’s doing well, but I suspect he’d wipe out our reserves after burning the school down in a rage.”
My eyes widen at the thought. “Would he really do that?” I whisper. After the strenuous activity of helping Jazzy with that bullshit they call math, I wouldn’t mind burning a few textbooks myself in rebellion. They’re making these kids work harder instead of smarter.
“No clue, to be honest, but like I said, he’s not always the most patient of men. When you toss in that it’s his daughter involved? It drops even further.”
“Goodness.” I know Cyrus is a hothead and sometimes reacts based on his emotions, but that’s a little extreme, even for him.
I don’t really know what else to say, to be honest. I don’t want to insinuate something about his president that I don’t mean. Words can be taken out of context and cause division in families if not comprehended in ways they’re meant. And considering the fact that this unit is around each other twenty-four hours a day for the foreseeable future, we have to be cautious about the way we approach things.
“Has Harmony found anything else?” he asks, breaking the companionable silence.
“No, unfortunately. But she, Karsyn and I are all hopeful that something else will be revealed so we know what we’re up against.” But if our conclusions are right, and things won’t reveal themselves until the magic of our grimoires feels it’s essential and necessary to the timeframe and situation we’re facing, we could all be in more trouble than we thought we’d be.
“I just hope it’s not too late,” he replies. In all honesty, it’s one of my biggest fears. Our ancestors left it up to mystical books to decide when things should be revealed. How is it supposed to know if the future once seen has changed course or not? If the once crystal-clear water has become murky, we’ll all be wading through shit thick mud as we navigate to the other side of the ravine.
Feeling choked up, I answer in a low, monotone voice, “Me too, Jabba. Me too.”
Because for the first time in my life, I’m a part of something extraordinary. I’m part of a we, a team; a couple, not a loner, and I’m loath to give that up for anyone. I still think it’s wild that the three of us are part of a prophecy that was foretold long ago.
I’m so lost in my musings that I don’t realize that we’ve already made a circuit around the perimeter and am astounded when the clubhouse comes into my sights.
“You ready to head to our room?” he questions.
Glancing at him, I see the heat in his eyes and nod, my own desire flaring to match his. He quickly tosses me over his shoulder, causing me to giggle, as he jogs to the clubhouse then over to the stairs toward the rooms. I can feel my face flushing, but I don’t know if it’s because I’m upside down and being jostled or because his brothers are calling out suggestions and a few cat calls and wolf whistles permeate the air as we pass on by.
Once we’re in what’s now our room, he makes quick work of stripping both of us down before he gently tosses me onto the bed, where I bounce several times while giggling the whole time. When he lands next to me, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me thoroughly and all thoughts of what may be headed our way, common core math, and the teasing we just went through fly out of my head, and I give myself over to the feelings coursing through my body.
Glancing around, I get a distinct feeling as though I should know where I am, but I don’t recognize the barren, damp walls. They’re similar in structure to the drabby cave that the Red Caps held me captive in, but not fully. There are distinct familiarities that have the hair rising on my skin and vomit roiling in my stomach. Still, even with the knowledge that this isn’t the same cavern, my heart is beating erratically as fear clogs my throat and stress sweat pours from my body. I’m nearing a full-blown breakdown which has me damn near hyperventilating as I work hard to drag each forced breath into my lungs.
“Jabba? Where are you?” I call out, unable to keep my voice from trembling as I search for the one person in this world that gives me a sense of safety and security. “Why is this happening?” I ask, even though there’s no one around to answer me. “I don’t understand.” That seems to be the motto of my life these days. That phrase seems to be spoken a lot by me here recently and I’m not sure how that makes me feel.
An ominous voice says, “If one falls, they all do.”
“Excuse me? Could you repeat that?” What does that mean? And why can’t I feel Jabba through our bond? It’s like he’s being blocked, his essence hidden from me by somebody pretty damn powerful… or some sort of ethereal phenomenon that’s close to that on the power scale. I don’t understand it at all. Screaming, I continue to look around at where I’m being held, searching for any way out of this present nightmare.
“Electra!” Jabba’s voice penetrates my nightmare and I latch onto his voice in an effort to come back to myself. When I finally open my eyes, I find I have tears falling down my face and he has wrapped his arms around me while running his hands up and down my back in a soothing manner. I need to find out who it is that keeps locking me into that dream state and why they’ve chosen to trap me there. I know that the message this entity has to say is paramount to what we’re up against but considering it’s all said in random parts and broken riddles, isn’t helping us figure out what path we need to take or what threats we’re facing.
“I had another nightmare,” I murmur. “This one was different though, because even though I don’t remember all of it, this time, there was a voice that said, ‘If one falls, they all do’ only I don’t know what that means, Jabba.” And the fact that I’ve been chosen as their voice and can’t remember their words verbatim after opening my eyes, doesn’t bode well for us.
“Me either, Nymph. Let’s take a shower and put some clean sheets on the bed then try and get some more sleep. Tomorrow’s soon enough to see if Harmony and Karsyn had dreams again as well.” I hope that if they were dragged into that gloomy lair like me, and hear the same supernatural being as I did, that they got more direction than I did from the divine trickster.
“You’re right,” I reply, not wanting to let on that this merits a wakeup call in my opinion. Especially since it’s still lingering in my mind and I’m afraid that if we don’t start figuring this out right away, somebody will pay the price for our delayed reaction.
However, I have been known to jump the gun and let my anxiety overrule my common sense. The more I think about it, the more I recognize the fact that there aren’t enough clues to do anything about this newest puzzle tonight. Now that I’ve acknowledged that fact, I can let it rest until the morning. “Let’s change the sheets first so after our shower we can just collapse back into bed.”
“A nymph after my own heart,” he teases.
“Absolutely.”