Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
luna
some girls crave love from a monster, if only to feel worthy of their wrath.
B uilt out of a dream, it towers up to the clouds with pointed elegance. I haven’t been here since I was a child, yet nothing has changed. Manicured gardens fit for royalty and grandeur to match the title, it would take someone a second to know who owns it.
Heavy doors swing open as a young girl pauses in her step when her eyes land on me. Honey-blonde hair is pulled up in a high pony, emphasizing her flawless dark skin and makeup applied by someone who clearly knows what they're doing. Dressed edgy in loose-style jeans with pockets, a tight cami, and Jordans, she seems relaxed enough to know her way around.
She tilts her head, her eyes flying to the car I climbed out of. “You here to see Halen?”
“She’s here to see Madison.” Bishop widens the door behind her.
“Okay….” She shrugs, flashing a smile and jogging down the stairs while humming a tune. You don’t want to keep Bishop Vincent Hayes waiting, so I continue through the front door. In an array of regal opulence, the castle is timeless in its elegance. With brushed gold and black color palettes, ceilings that spiral up to the sky, and contemporary medieval architecture, it’s a testament to how far up in the food chain the Kings are. There’s rich, there’s rich rich, and then there’s this kind of rich. The simplicity of a four-letter word seems inadequate.
“Come. This won’t take long.” I follow him down the long hallway, passing stone walls and plain abstract art. He stops outside twin doors and gestures inside with a single swoop of his hand. Heat sails over my skin from the open fireplace, where four wingback sofas surround a walnut-stained coffee table. Bookshelves that reach the ceiling compliment the garland of opulent furnishings. It’s like stepping into the mind of Bishop Vincent Hayes.
“This seat is for you.” Bishop gestures down to the only empty chair near the fire, driving me to the other two that are filled.
Out of instinct, I find Nate. Seconds pass until he nods, and my feet move, shuffling me to the only empty chair. A decanter of whiskey is on the small table between us, surrounded by small glasses and a bucket of ice. An ashtray with burn marks is placed beside it, and a leftover cigarette burning in the middle.
Nate clears his throat. I cross my legs at my ankles, keeping my shoulders straight. “Guess you’re wondering why you’re here.”
“You could say that,” I answer like a well-trained pet. Shadows dance over my vision, and I find myself lost in the grand portrait hanging on the wall. A steel feathered swan with its wings spread over the dimension of Bishop's desk.
Interesting.
About as interesting as them having their “Boardroom” inside Bishop’s family home.
Earthy tobacco notes burn through the air as a Zippo snaps closed, and Bishop leans forward to rest his forearms on his thighs.
“Are you ready, Little One?” Nate’s question has my eyes shifting to him. His finger works his upper lip in slow strokes as the flames from the fireplace leave a scatter of soft hues over his face.
I dampen my lips. It’s not until the pendant's familiar warmth is against my palm that I realize I’ve reached for my necklace. Oh, how so much has changed.
“Always.” My head dips, but I focus on him until Brantley shifts in his chair. Being Vaden’s father, I’ve always assumed their similarities would go further than their looks, but over the time I’d spent with Vaden, it became obvious how different he was from his father, who’s a notorious caveman. Brantley, being the cool, aloof one of the three, seems detached or consistently thinking. Vaden has always been the happy one of the group. The one who can always crack a joke.
Dare I say the gentler one of them.
Maybe I’ve said that too soon, since something seemed off with him tonight.
“Why?” I ask, unsure if I want to know the answer. Whatever reason they pulled me aside tonight, it must be important. They wouldn’t risk the exposure otherwise.
Nate tries to flash one of his signature smirks, and the wrinkles on the side of his eyes deepen as he strokes his fading beard. “We need a favor.”
I blink. “What is it?” This is not good.
His mouth twitches. “Not a ‘sure,’ or ‘Of course! That’s why I’m here!’”
The flutter in my left eye is distracting, but I keep my shoulders straight. “I know better than to agree to a favor to a King before knowing what it is. Family or not…”
Silence. I don’t regret my words.
Nate exhales, the leather of his chair protesting when he leans farther back, unbuttoning his jacket. “You’ve always been admired, Luna. Whether you’ve seen it or not, but your position alone within the society should be enough to prove that.”
He wants me to answer, so I let him speak.
“When we found out that your mother was pregnant, there were reservations of what side of the two families you’d fall in. Kiznitch and Midnight Mayhem, or the Kings. We all agreed that we’d wait for you to be born, feel things out, and decide. It was apparent the day you were born that you were a King, and as you grew, we watched your interactions. How you blended with the rest of them, with the exception of Priest…” Nate’s lip twitches again.
My blood turns cold for the second time since walking in here.
“But as we all know, there have been tribulations surrounding you.” He pauses.
I’ve never been inside this office, but I’ve heard each generation has a meeting place. Maybe that is the whole point of Bishop having it here. No one is bold enough to attack a King in his own home.
“Oh, I’m aware.” There have been a few times that I’ve been reminded of my age, and sitting here with the three of them is one.
“You weren’t raised like the others were, Luna.” Bishop’s mumble has me turning to him in time for his eyes to swoop from mine to Nate’s. “They’re tough and street smart.” He’s back on me, and I feel like a little girl again, trusting him to take my hand and lead me to a place far, far away. “…but the girls haven’t been exposed to the same things you have. The boys, yes, but not the girls.”
Good for them.
Bishop reaches for his drink and rests it on his leg. “You aren’t going to like this favor.”
“I can openly admit that whenever Nate has said those exact words to me, I’ve not liked it. Drama aside…” The corner of my mouth ticks, and Nate chuckles from beneath his breath.
Bishop studies my face. My pulse slows as I stay focused on him. Not a single flinch. “How did you find your final years?”
My fingers twist together, exposing the scars of crescent moons in my palms. “Challenging yet rewarding. I do owe you all.”
“You don’t owe us anything, Luna.” Brantley is a man of very few words, so when he uses them, people listen. His head turns slightly as he looks at Nate from behind his shoulder. Relaxing back in his chair, he sips at his whiskey. “None of us owe the other anything.”
He’s wrong. He knows it. I wouldn’t be alive right now if it weren't for the Fathers. I owe them everything, and I owe Priest nothing.
“Make no mistake, Luna,” Nate adds, and being the opposite of Brantley, I want to tune him out. “What we’re about to ask you is something we may never be able to repay you for.”
It hurts to blink when my eyes dry. “I don’t care. Ask.”
Bishop flashes a black envelope but doesn’t extend his hand further. “You’re going to be joining the rest of them?—”
I bury my fingers into the leather of my chair. “I—don’t think…”
Bishop’s glare cuts me off. “It was a request before Priest took the gavel. He knows you’re back for good.” He places the envelope on the table, sliding it across to me. “This is different. The girls have their allocated duties that they’re partaking in, as do the Kings, but as you know, yours in particular…is, well…different.”
With a finger pressed over the sleek black paper, I pause, blinking up at all three. I feel like a kid in the principal’s office. Bishop's resemblance to his son is terrifying, but in the mellow ambiance of his office, it's like staring back at future Priest.
Bishop continues as I slide it over. “You can’t tell anyone what is inside this, Luna. What you will be doing.”
My smile doesn’t reach my eyes. “Consider your favor accepted.”
I close my apartment door, resting my head against the wood. You can’t tell anyone what is inside this, Luna. His words ricochet off the walls as I reach to the back of my hair and untie the ribbon. Soft strands of blonde hair fall around my shoulders as I kick off my boots and pad my way through the living room. Sensor lights flicker above, tracing my steps as I open my phone on my way to my bedroom.
My finger taps on the Instagram logo, and it opens onto my feed. The first photo tastes like sour milk when Corbin’s smile fills the frame, where he’s perched over his KTM. Tattooed, his tongue out, and his middle finger flipped. I miss my best friend in him. The one who I thought would understand me and this life more than anyone, but ended up being the one who judged me the most.
I sigh, tossing my phone onto my bed and making my way to the shower that’s adjacent to my bedroom. Is this what my life will be now? Favors for the Kings and pretending to be one? They can say it as often as they want, but it’ll never stick.
I am not a King. I am here, yes, and I bleed them, would die and kill for them, but I am not one.
As soon as the water is warm, I dip beneath and watch as it beads off my skin. Five minutes max, I’m out, dry, and standing in my closet, scanning my current options. Sundresses, winter dresses, knitted sweaters, flats, heels, handbags. Everything in this world is endless.
Like barrel wine, burgundy lace stands out between a beige sweater and a yellow dress. I’m about to take it out when my phone starts blaring from the room. I back up without looking away, swiping the phone blindly and tapping to answer.
“If you had to choose, which one?” In a second, my mom’s bright silver hair replaces the blank black screen.
“Where’s Aunt Perse?” I stand my phone upright on my bedside table, throwing on a loose top and fuzzy socks. I’m crawling up my bed when she tangles two dresses in front of the camera. One lilac and the other black.
“Lilac.” A yawn interrupts my answer as I settle into the sea of pillows.
The dress disappears, and her face fills the screen. Free of makeup and in the comfort of her bathroom, my mother never looked more beautiful than she does in her natural moments. “We always wear that color.”
“True,” I answer, unlatching the Rolex from my wrist. “But there’s a reason why we do. Where you going?”
She picks up her phone and walks me through the house and into the kitchen. “We have a meeting in Japan.”
“Fun. Mayhem?” My stomach turns to knots. I wish I fell into the Mayhem kid pool. Things on that side seem easy.
She nods, the light from the fridge disappearing when she closes the door. “Yep. Are you okay? What are you doing tonight?”
“Hey, baby!” Dad blows me a kiss through the phone when my mom passes him.
Warmth spreads through my chest, turning my heart heavy. “I miss you.”
“Us too—” Mom starts walking off, but Dad must take the phone because there’s a slight squabble before his face replaces Mom’s. “How’s everything going there?”
Bound by bland walls and unpacked boxes, I settle on the view of Riverside from the floor-to-ceiling window. “Well, the apartment is nice.”
“It’s temporary. You know you should take the offer to build down the lane.”
The thought puts out my fatigue like water to a flame. I roll out of bed and make my way downstairs. “I don’t want to.”
He’s silent for a moment, which gives me enough time to find the bar hidden in the corner of the living room. A soft ambiance of lighting allows for a comfortable setting. It's perfectly me, paired with a velvet moss sofa, a wide fireplace, and designer rugs.
“It’s all up to you, baby. You know that.”
Headlights catch the window as the passenger door opens onto River before Halen climbs out of the driver’s seat and Stella from the back.
“I have to go.”
When Dad doesn’t answer, I look down at the phone in time to catch worry lines wrinkling into the center of his forehead. “I wouldn’t want this for you. For what it’s worth.”
It’s not worth anything because it’s who we are. Dad is a King, but he isn’t one of the three. He’s a King through and through, but sometimes I wonder, if he was pushed enough, would he still choose the EKC? That’s the difference between the three founding members and the ten.
“We don’t have to do this, Dad. I’m happy, okay? And I love you.”
“I love you, baby.”
I hang up as my front door opens, and River fills the space. Halen moves her out of the way, swinging her car keys around her fingers. “Well, hello, Nightmare!”
The weird nickname I haven't heard since we were children leaves her mouth as Stella’s thigh-high boot closes the door behind her. Long, raven-colored hair is flicked over her shoulder as she carves the lipstick from beneath her bottom lip. This is what it’s to be. This was what I would have been had I been more involved as a child.
Had I not been thrust into the arms of a sociopath and made to be his pet. None of them know the truth beneath the pretty exterior of Priest Hayes, their official new leader. Halen knows a little, but after he hid me for years without his twin knowing, I’m starting to wonder what else he’s managed to keep from her.
Or from everyone.
“I’m not ready yet.” I leave my phone on the kitchen island. “My mom was calling to ask what dress she should wear.”
River opens the fridge and slides in two bottles of Cristal champagne. “Lilac. She needs to wear lilac. Like the deep burgundy color you wear.”
“I told her that,” I say, taking the glass of whiskey from Stella as she slides onto the counter. “But she said we always wear that color.”
River shrugs. “True.”
There’s a slight pause. Halen stares between us, crossing her arms in front of the other. “How do you know that?”
River bats her lashes innocently to deflect.
Whiskey burns my lips as I wave my hand to brush off River's slip-up. “Observation of the photos she saw when we were children.”
“You need to wear wine.” Stella interrupts. Thank God. Her brows move suggestively as she hides her smirk behind a glass.
Halen’s too busy texting to notice. “Evie’s away in the city, or she’d be here too. Right!” Halen claps. “Let’s go.”
An hour later, we pull up to the entrance of a rusted sign that hangs above. With faded colors illustrating laughter and excitement, it’s now chipped and withered from neglect. Moss shrubs fill the cracked pathway, and the only thing alive is the relentless veins of Mother Nature, where her vines grow over archaic slabs of concrete.
I slide out of the car, inhaling the ancient smell of metallic blended with burned rubber.
“We had to pick up our precious cargo!” Stella appears at my side, River on the other. I’m like a caged animal, one that people can’t seem to stop looking at.
“Precious cargo, huh?” Vaden’s eyes darken on me, leaving prickles of fear down the base of my spine. He taps the tip of his nose as if to hide his smug grin. “Interesting wording.”
Stella rolls her eyes, turning to me. “Luna, you must have a boyfriend in Spain. I’ve seen those Mayhem men!” A shadow shifts from behind Halen. Probably War, since they can’t seem to last three seconds away from each other.
“Not really.” tires ripping up asphalt shriek over the distant sound of music. I get why they come here. It almost feels free. Like you’re not being held to any generational standard.
“Not really?” Stella’s dark brow curves. “I like the not reallys. Tell me more.”
Halen starts talking in the background, so I entertain Stella while everyone is distracted. Including myself, when a car spins circles into a cloud of smoke.
“I should say no. No, I don’t.” Corbin doesn’t count, and the only man that I?—
“Or did.”
The intrusion of his voice douses all warmth from the alcohol I’d sipped on the way here. As much as I want to fight it, I can’t help when my eyes land on him.
Leaning casually against the side of his car with his hoodie resting against the back of his neck, he looks about as interested in this conversation as I am, yet he’s who interrupted it.
“Right.” My fingernail grazes the base of my palm. “I guess what I should say, is that I did.”
Priest’s sadistic glare remains on me, and every passing second is a spiteful promise of destruction. It's as if he’s counting my breaths because he knows when my last one will be, but I refuse to break first. I know he prefers it when I do.
“Oh! What happened?” Halen asks from somewhere to the side.
My eyes burn as the sting from my nails does nothing to distract the stir of chaos that threatens. Dammit. “He’s dead.”
Stella clears her throat with a chuckle. “Sorry, didn’t mean to laugh, but yo…” Her discolored eyes find Priest. “Did you kill him?”
“Nah,” Priest smirks but keeps his eyes fixed on me. “Luna did.” He pauses, lifting the cigarette he’s holding to his mouth and angling his head. “Right, Madness?”
“Fuck you.” I can’t be bothered engaging with him tonight. I go back to the cars. Burnt tire marks pave the way through the park entrance, bypassing rides that are frozen in time. Stella bumps my hip with hers and winks at me over her shoulder as her heels clap against the concrete. Shit. What have I got myself into?