Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
luna
year three
W inter bites her way into the colder months, which means we’re heading toward the end of the year.
I should probably start tracking time again.
“You know they’re going to continue to do this until your legs give out, right?” River murmurs, checking the barrel of her gun. I don’t bother asking why she’s out of rounds.
“I don’t understand the meaning of it all.” I load up and rest the semi on my shoulder, looking through the scope. “And yes, I know there’s meaning. I just don’t know what it is.” In a swirl of black, white, and red, the bulls eye teases us from afar.
I pull the trigger and the gun hammers against me with every blow until I’m out.
I straighten. “I don’t think I like guns.”
“What is wrong with you!” River snatches the machine from me as if I don’t deserve it.
“Which part? Would you like the list?” Frost leaves my lips as I shuffle my gloves back on.
“I will say,” she adds with a chuckle. “He sure knows how to dress you.”
A flimsy pale cotton sundress that’s long at the arms and flowy, dipping between my breasts. I managed to find a black corset that I tied around my waist in a sad attempt at keeping warm since the asshole hadn’t given me any jackets.
River sink her teeth into her lip to stop her smirk. I know she’s about to say something smart. “It’s very…Juliette.”
That isn’t so bad. Maybe she’s getting better as she ages.
She shrugs. “If you know, if Romeo was a gangster.”
“He’s cruel.” I jog on the spot, blowing into the palm of my hand to get warm.
“Probably the least cruel thing he’s ever done.” That doesn’t make it any better. Before I can voice that, her hand flies out to hush me.
I stop instantly.
“Why must you use a gun?” I grumble under my breath.
Recently, we’ve spent every day together. I’ll take what I can get since neither of us know when, or if, that will stop. The most pressing question is why we’re training so young when Priest isn’t set to take the gavel until he’s in his twenties.
“Because I’d rather not be close enough to see them die.” Her finger hovers over the trigger as she lifts into position.
“Maybe it’s you who should be training and not me…” I tease, stepping over a fallen branch while moving another out of my face.
Snow powders around my feet like cocaine. At least I have boots. I’m not sure if Prada would approve of where they go, though.
River’s bullet passes through the silencer, whizzing past me.
“Wait, you think you’re being trained to not care?” She sasses, her shoulder brushing mine. “That’s just what was needed to qualify.” She winks, continuing through the span of trees.
I step through blood-splattered snow before the base of a boot collides with mine. Facedown with arms spread wide like an angel.
“I don’t understand this concept.”
River appears beside me. “I wish they were bad at least.” Kneeling, she touches the side of his neck. “Unfortunately, that’s most likely not the case. These people are all dispensable to him. How many did he say?” She hooks the strap of her gun over her back.
I hand her the note that was left on my dresser.
She closes it. “Three. I have to admit, I think what you have to do is shittier than what I’m doing right now.”
“What is it that you’re doing?” I never want to pry too deep into River’s duties, the same way she doesn’t mine.
“Family shit.” Using her foot, she rolls him to his back. “How the fuck are we supposed to carry them?”
Three hours later, blood slips through my fingers, loosening my grasp on his weight.
We stop at the side of the house, finally releasing the shirt of corpse number two. The front door closes and both Priest and Vaden stop in their tracks, their eyes moving between River and me.
Unwrapping the strap, I toss the weapon on top of dead man. “I don’t want to use this thing, and I should be lifting weights. That’s what I should be doing. You’re teaching me how to kill—great—but what use is that if I can’t even carry the food home!” I swipe the sweat that slips down my temple.
“You complaining, Madness?” Butterflies flap their wings in my belly, igniting rippling of vibrations. That’s another thing I should learn how to kill. Butterflies.
Ever the confusing combination of both sides to the same sword.
With one hand buried in his pocket, his other plays with a cigar as he regards me carefully. For the first ever, he seems unfocused.
“Yes. Yes, I am.” I turn back to River before he reacts. “Help.”
She chokes on her laugh, and it’s not until I pick up the John Doe’s hand and try to pull him toward the house again that I hear music.
“Are—you—” I struggle between each tug while yelling loud enough for Priest to hear. “Throwing—a—party—so—much for low-key—fuck!” The word slips off my tongue, but I don’t care. I never swear. I never lose my cool. My temper is the one thing I’ve always been in control of.
“Madness.” One simple word.
My eyes close and the air in my lungs seize when I feel how close he is.Blood rushes to my head, my knees weakening. Footsteps disappear in the distance, but his presence is too heavy to focus on anything else.
My skin prickles when his knuckles trace the nape of my neck.“If you wanted a new weapon, all you had to do was ask.”
“What are you doing?” I whisper, opening my eyes and sucking in a deep breath to calm my raging heartbeat.
“Turn around.”
Snow powders my boots when I follow his order. I’m eye-to-eye with his black shirt. He’s taller, wider, stronger. I can’t remember the last time he ever stood this close to me.
I prefer him further away, with enough distance to decide whether I want to kill or fuck him.
“Murder looks good on you.” He tugs at the string of my corset, his pupils dilating when they land on my lips. “A new weapon will look even better.”
I don’t have time for his games. I need to help River. Only when I turn, the spot where she stood is empty, with nothing but blood-stained snow.
“Hey!” River calls out from the top of the steps, holding two bottles of alcohol. “You didn’t tell me it was your fucking birthday!”
“What! It isn’t!” Is it? I stopped counting days, so technically, it probably could be, but no one would know. No one…
“Happy birthday, Madness.” His shoulder brushes mine as he walks back up the steps, pausing in front of River.
She raises a brow and leans into him before he shoves her back playfully and plucks a bottle from her.
She’s still laughing as she bounces down, hooking her arm with mine. “Well, that’s new.”
“What’s new?”
“That. Him. He also said something about leaving your new weapon on your bed.”
“Oh.” She directs me up the same path he took. “Yeah. He’s usually, well?—”
“Him?” River stares back at me, her eyes wide. Our laughter is swallowed by the loud thumping of Dr. Dre as River leads me toward the kitchen. The décor doesn’t surprise me. Cement cabinetry and steel appliances match the rest of the house's color palette, with rinsed gray and obsidian black hues.
I stop, my arm slipping from River’s. White balloons bounce off the ceiling in a rain of ribbons, hiding a table in the corner. “Oh my god.”
“Yup,” River chuckles from behind.
“No. Oh my god.” I blink. A giant round cake piles up in layers of white buttercream, getting smaller the higher it gets. I count the layers. One, two—fifteen.
“It’s your fifteenth!” She bumps my hip with hers. “What chaos can we cause?”
“Ah, the birthday girl.” Arms wrap around my waist, lifting me up off the ground. “Happy birthday, Lulu.” A flash from a camera blinds me as Vaden lowers me back down. I turn, threading my fingers behind the back of his neck.
“You do this?” I gesture to the monster cake behind me.
Vaden looks over my shoulder before returning, his mouth in a wide smirk. “Actually, no. That was done by the dark prince himself. He tried to go for black, I fought him on that and won, even though he did make a point to leave your present on your bed.”
Priest? My smile falls. He must notice because the arm around my back stiffens. “Hey! No sad shit on your birthday.”
“But that’s so…”
“Out of character?” River adds, one brow raised as she pours brown liquid into a line of shot glasses.
Vaden ignores her. “It’s not really. Not if you know him.”
River shimmies between Vaden and me as she pushes a shot glass into my face. “You have to do fifteen. It’s a rite of passage.” Fifteen? I’ve been here for over two years now. It’s been over two years since I’ve spoken with Mom and my Dads.
My throat burns when I shoot back the liquor, setting the glass onto the island behind me. The kitchen looks out over the lounge, revealing people dancing around the DJ set up in the corner. One person pushes another into the pool.
“How are so many people here?”
“Everyone’s here,” Vaden says, swiping his mouth with his thumb and flipping the shot glass onto the counter. “That’s allowed to be here.”
I turn to River for answers but she’s glaring at Vaden. When she notices me looking, her mouth turns into a wide smile. “Come. Let’s get drunk.”
I let her move me through the swarm of people, dodging sticky bodies and unfamiliar faces. I never needed to attend parties, and my family had them often. Midnight Mayhem are infamous for their iconic parties, but I always found the music too loud and the conversations boring.
My feet stop when I find Priest sitting on a single sofa on the other side of the room. Boys surround him as he chats with one to his left. As if sensing me watching, his mouth stops moving as he slowly turns, his eyes landing on mine.
We don’t like each other. He barely tolerates me on our training days, and I’m pretty sure every time we’re in the dark room, he’d rather it be me bleeding out at his feet and not his latest toy. I know he enjoys watching me run so he can chase me, but his natural impulses always leave him unsatisfied because he can’t do what they drive him to do. Kill.
But he threw this party, made a giant cake, and said happy birthday.
“Thank you.” I mouth at him.
His signature stone expression fractures, and I sway sideways, slowly walking toward him. Fingers dig into my arm, and I’m pulled in the opposite direction by a scream of Shots! from River.
When I get a chance to turn back around, he’s gone.