Chapter 34 Maeve
MAEVE
I spent my next shift at Lushberry organizing the holiday merchandise. I loved Christmas, and even though the work wasn’t exactly challenging, there were worse things than hanging out in the store, listening to the Christmas music that was piped in through the speakers.
Everyone was in a good mood, holiday shoppers out buying gifts for friends or looking for the perfect party dress. It made me feel like I was part of a normal life, a life with people who didn’t feel like there was a giant hole in their lives that only seemed bigger at Christmas.
Plus, it helped me keep my mind off of Bram.
I was pretty sure we needed to stay out of the kitchen since everything bad that happened between us had happened there. Although kneeing him in the balls hadn’t been bad in my book.
Like Reva said, he’d deserved it for trying to kiss me without so much as an apology for refusing to do it when we’d been fucking. I wasn’t a toy for him to throw away only to pick up again when he felt like playing.
Still, I couldn’t pretend I hadn’t wanted it. I’d been dying to kiss him since that first night in the kitchen, and he’d been right there.
I might have kneed him in the balls, but he’d gotten his revenge even if he didn’t realize it, because I lost sleep thinking about that almost kiss, imagining what it would have been like to finally feel his lips, his tongue sliding against mine.
I was stocking the last of the red sequin cocktail dresses we’d just gotten in when Hannah called me from across the store.
“Someone’s here to see you,” she said from the row of registers at the back of the store.
I wove my way around the racks of clothes arranged around the store and was rounding a case of jewelry when I saw Bailey standing by the registers.
My heart sank and my cheeks flamed with guilt. “Bailey, hi!”
Her brown hair fell in waves around her green wool coat, and even though her makeup was on point and perfect as always, I could tell she was worried.
“Hi?” She shook her head. “Jesus, Maeve, where have you been?”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
I owed her like, ten texts.
“Don’t say you’re sorry. Just tell me where you’ve been.”
“I’ve just been… you know, around. I’m sorry. I’ve just been busy.”
She frowned. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
I nodded. “Do you have time to grab a bite?”
“Maeve, come on, I always have time for you. You know that.”
Her words only made me feel worse for being such a shitty friend.
“Give me a second,” I said.
I told Hannah I was going to take my lunch, grabbed my bag, and met Bailey back out on the floor.
“Food court okay?” I asked.
“It’s fine.”
Now that she’d seen I was okay her mood had shifted from worried to mad.
I hated when Bailey was mad at me, but it was better than worried.
I knew all too well how much it cost to worry about someone — I’d been worried sick about June in the year before her murder — and I hated that I’d made Bailey worry about me.
I stood in line for Chinese while Bailey went to get a salad. We met up at one of the tables in the center of the food court and got settled.
“You could have texted me back,” she said, pouring dressing over her salad. “It only takes a second.”
“I know. I’m so sorry.” I’d texted her the morning after the Hunt to let her know I was back with the Butchers, but after that, I had to admit I’d gone pretty dark.
I knew she was really mad at me by the way she furiously mixed her salad with her fork. “Just tell me what’s going on.”
“They’re going to help me. With Ethan Todd.”
She sighed. “Do you think that makes me less worried?”
I picked at my food. “Probably not, but it’s part of why I’ve been MIA.”
She put down her fork and leaned over the table.
“You’re living with three guys who run drugs and who knows what else, who chase women through tunnels for the purpose of making them slaves for three months, and together you’re all planning the murder of a high-profile influencer with legions of crazed male fans. Do you see why I’d be worried?”
I tried for a wry smile. “Well when you put it that way…”
“This isn’t funny, Maeve.”
I sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know what to say. I’m finally going to get justice for June. Once that happens…”
Her eyes widened. “What? Once that happens what?”
I pressed my lips together. “I don’t know. Things can go back to normal, I guess.”
“And what’s normal, Maeve? Please tell me what this ‘normal’ will look like when you solve all your problems by killing Ethan Todd.”
Her voice had slowly gotten louder, and I looked around, nervous that one of the holiday shoppers in the food court might overhear.
“I mean, I’ll come back to live with you at the apartment. Maybe I’ll try to get a job in a kitchen somewhere. I don’t know. Normal.”
“Will you really, Maeve? Will you really come back to the apartment? Will you really participate in killing someone and then just go get a job in some restaurant like it never happened?”
“Yes.” It came out louder and more angry than I’d intended and two women who looked like mother and daughter turned to look at us. I took a deep breath and lowered my voice. “Yes. I just need to do this, okay? You know I need to do this.”
“It’s not going to bring her back,” Bailey said softly.
I blinked back the tears that stung my eyes. “I know that. Don’t you think I know that?”
She moved her salad around with her fork. “And these guys, these… Butchers, they know how to do this without getting caught?”
This was why Bailey had been my best friend for so long. No matter how much she disapproved of what I was doing, if I was burying a body, she was bringing a shovel.
“They know more than I do about how to do it without getting caught.”
She took a listless bite of her salad, then put her fork down.
“I just want you to really think about this, okay? Consider the possibility that this isn’t going to make everything right.
That it’s just going to be one more fucked-up thing you have to live with when it’s all said and done.
Will you at least think about it some more? ”
I nodded.
“And these guys, the Butchers, are you in love with one of them?” I looked down and she continued. “Or… all of them?”
I chewed my lower lip. “‘Love’ is a strong word.”
“I know what kind of word it is, Maeve. I used it for a reason.”
I considered my answer carefully, because Bailey and I didn’t lie to each other, and because I wasn’t sure I knew enough about my feelings for Poe and Remy — and definitely not the minefield of my feelings for Bram — to even answer the question.
“I don’t know,” I finally said. “I’m not sure I can explain. It’s… complicated.”
“Try,” Bailey said. “I can do complicated.”
I thought about the Butchers. About Poe’s tender care and Remy’s lighthearted goofiness. About the way they looked out for me even when I thought I didn’t want them to, the way they protected me even when I thought I didn’t need it.
Then I thought about Bram, his feelings locked in a vault, the key at the bottom of an ocean too deep to swim without drowning.
He’d been the one to take off into the dark after the Ghosts, his black eyes lit with a vengeance I understood because it was vengeance born out of pain too deep for words.
He counted on the fact that no one saw him.
But I did.
I did.
When I’d been chained to the wall in the tunnels, they were the ones I’d thought about.
The ones I’d hoped would come. The ones I’d known would come.
But I didn’t know how to say all of that to Bailey without scaring the shit out of her.
“They look out for me,” I said instead.
“Do they?” she asked. “Or are they using you the way you’re using them?”
I shook my head. “It’s not like that.”
I wasn’t sure I’d known it until I said the words.
Yes, I needed their help, wanted what they had to offer me to avenge June.
And it was pretty clear they wanted something from me too.
But when I thought about the heated sex I had with Poe and Remy, the raw lust that flowed between Bram and me, I didn’t feel used.
I felt seen too. I felt alive.
“Are you really coming back?” Bailey asked.
I knew she wasn’t just talking about the apartment.
“I don’t know,” I said, because Bailey and I didn’t lie to each other. “But whatever happens, I love you, B. You’re my best friend, my sister, and that will never change.”
She swallowed, and I knew from the way her face got red that she was trying not to cry, because when you knew someone as long as Bailey and I had known each other you knew what they looked like when they were about to cry.
“Promise?” she asked.
I reached for her hand. “I promise.”
She took a deep breath. “Can I meet them at least?”
I laughed a little. It was hard to imagine inviting Bailey to the loft, introducing her to the Butchers, having a dinner party.
But for Bailey, I’d figure something out.
“I’ll see what I can do."