4. Rage
Chapter 4
Rage
Mikhail Monrovia is the type of man who pushes buttons. Not just the tiny ones that light up sky rise elevators like Christmas trees—but the big, red buttons encased in glass and surrounded by warning signs that read DO NOT PUSH! He slams his fist on those huge buttons with a maniacal grin on his face, all because he wants to see the chaos that follows.
My brother Rebel is much the same way, pushing over dominos to watch the crash.
I don’t like having them in a room together for this exact reason, but with Celia in our lives, I have a gut feeling that it’s something I’m going to have to get used to. While Mikhail absentmindedly flicks a switchblade in his hand throughout our entire conversation, Rebel tracks the movement with this tiny smile on his lips, like he’s tempted to kick the knife out of Mikhail’s hands to see what the man will do if Rebel reaches across the table and claims it for himself.
I stomp my heel on Rebel’s toes and grind down, but it’s no use—he’s strung out from the lack of sleep and the crash after an adrenaline rush, both making him distracted. He’s hardly paying attention as Thanatos draws a circle on a paper map of the city, pinpointing our father’s most likely location based upon the body drops over the past few weeks and the abandoned buildings in the vicinity. There are only so many places he can hide.
In fact, I’m anticipating that the reason we haven’t sniffed him out yet is because he’s been on the move since reentering the city. After spending the past few years on the run, I doubt he can sit still.
Much like Rebel.
My annoyance grows— quickly —until Celia suddenly twines Rebel’s fingers in hers and leans into his side, curling beneath his arm as he drapes it over her shoulder. He settles down in an instant, damn near purring like a cat, the smile curving on his lips softening as he presses a tender kiss to Celia’s temple.
I’m not jealous. I’m not.
I drum my fingertips against my thigh as I fight the wave of envy pulsing through my veins. Celia and I have made progress—but not like that. Not nearly like that. I need to be patient. I told Celia that she could fall for my brothers first—and I meant every word. I still do.
But that doesn’t make it any easier to witness the two of them falling harder with each passing day.
Celia lifts her tired gaze to mine and smiles, making my heart thump hard inside my chest. Not only is she beautiful, but she’s observant, reading both me and Rebel with such ease that I wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t given me a hint.
That smile speaks volumes, and it soothes the jealousy burning inside my heart.
I don’t need to be jealous of my brothers. When Celia finally comes to me of her own volition—of her own heart —she’ll fall just as hard for me as she has for the others.
She has to.
Mikhail claps his hands together once he and Thanatos have hatched a plan for taking down our father. I’ve listened intently up until the last minute, missing the most vital part of the conversation…
Like, how the fuck we’re going to take him down once we’ve found him? Who will make the kill—and who will ensure he suffers for every fucked-up thing he’s done not only to our family, but to every woman he’s carved up for fun. I grind my teeth as I picture it—the moment my father meets the Reaper. Part of me believes that it should be Ruin to make the final cut, but another part of me longs to be the one to cave in his skull with my fists. Rebel likely won’t care to take the kill so long as he gets in enough hits to burn off his anger from Celia’s attempted abduction.
I watch Celia for any sign of hesitation or remorse, grateful when I find none. Her eyes are tired but clear, with her resolve as strong as ours.
I always knew I picked the right woman to love.
Mikhail raps his knuckles on the table to collect everyone’s attention. “Alright, let’s get this shit show on the road. One less murdering lunatic in town will be good for everyone. I’ll sleep better at night knowing that he can’t reach my sister, seeing as she keeps such… interesting company.” The insult slides right off my shoulders. I don’t give a fuck what Mikhail Monrovia thinks of me—regardless of his status as my future brother-in-law. He can go fuck himself with his disapproval.
Locking eyes with his sister from across the table, Mikhail adds, “you should stay here until we’ve eliminated the threat, Celia.”
Her back straightens as she bristles. “No. No way, Mikhail. He’s after me. If he finds out that I’m here—” Celia glances at the partition blocking Ruin’s unconscious body from view—“he’ll come for more than just me.” Quieter, she adds, “I’m not the only person whose blood he wants. So I’m going with you. I want to find him just as much as you do.”
I stare at my beautiful, stubborn woman, two emotions crashing against each other like waves inside of my heart. Pride swells like a fever, but on its heels is heavy dread churning inside my gut. If we split Ruin and Celia up and secure them in different locations, my father will have to choose a target… which means only one of them will be vulnerable to attack at a time.
Celia is willing to risk her life if it means keeping Ruin safe.
What she doesn’t seem to understand is that it will never come to that—I won’t let either of them die. We aren’t splitting up anymore. We’re seeing this through to the end—all of us, together.
Clicking his tongue in clear disapproval, Mikhail stabs the sharp tip of his switchblade into the table. “That’s exactly why you should stay here. He won’t get into The Box, Celia, even if he figures out where you are. If by some heinous miracle he does—which I sincerely doubt—with another target so close, he’ll have to choose one of you to go after. He can’t kill you both.”
Rebel snorts. “Uhh, did you miss the blazing fucking inferno back at the shop?” He flicks crusty, burnt hair from his eyes, frowning as it falls back over his forehead. Hastily brushing it away, he huffs, “he’ll set fire to the whole goddamn city if he thinks it’ll help lure her out, especially if he thinks he can take Ruin out at the same time. He’ll want to make them both suffer.”
Mikhail isn’t convinced. “That’s exactly why he won’t light another fire. That was a message, not a murder attempt.”
“Sure fooled me,” Rebel murmurs moodily.
I stare at Celia to gauge her mood, but she stares stonily ahead, glaring at her brother, undeterred in the slightest. “I’m not going to sit here while everyone I love combs the city for this bastard. I’m coming, too. That’s final.”
My heart trills with love for this woman, and despite how bone-tired I am, my cock threatens to rise. I clench my fists and clear my throat. “She’ll be safe with us.” I meet her gaze and nod. I’m not keen on the idea of her running through the city in general, but for the first time in my life, I’m even less fond of locking her down. If she’s standing still, Dad could track her just as easily as we do, and if he’s been paying attention, which I’m sure he has, he’ll suspect that we’re in The Box if any of us were injured from the latest arson.
He could be hiding around the corner as we speak, waiting for the perfect opening to slither through.
“We can’t move Ruin,” Thanatos says slowly, staring into the distance. “It’s too risky with his current condition.”
Before Mikhail can open his big mouth, I growl out, “ Don’t suggest we leave him behind.”
A muscle in Mikhail’s jaw twitches. “He’s a liability at best and a death sentence at worst.”
“He’s a goddamn soldier,” I hiss, slamming my fist on the table. “Out of everyone here, he’s the one who takes the worst hits and keeps fucking going, because that’s what he does best. He keeps on living despite every painful breath it fucking takes.” Anger makes my blood pressure rise, and I lace my fingers together to keep from bashing my knuckles against Mikhail’s pretty face. “We are not leaving him here with a target the size of Texas on his back.”
“Ruin comes with us,” Celia agrees, looking between me and Mikhail. There’s a spark of determination in her eyes that sends a rush of pride through me all over again. “He’s got more motive to kill the man than any of us sitting here.”
Rebel rouses himself enough to chime in. “Fucking right, he’s coming with us.” Pressing a kiss to Celia’s cheek, he smirks and whispers something in her ear to make her blush. I kick his shin, and he grins, tossing me a wink.
Cheeky bastard.
Without warning, Thanatos stands from his seat and bolts around the table towards the hallway. I jump up and pull out my gun, expecting to find my father’s cruel smile taunting me from across the room. The longer we sit here, the closer he undoubtedly gets. It’s only a matter of time before he finds us, and then?—
“Ruin!” Celia gasps, both she and Rebel jumping to their feet as my youngest brother shuffles across the concrete floor in an attempt to make it to the table. He’s rolling two IV poles in front of him, his back arched and his breathing shallow as he leans on them for support. Thanatos reaches him first, looping Ruin’s arm over his shoulders to hold him up. Rebel takes his other arm while Celia slips between them both, damn near crashing into his chest. At first, she hovers there without touching him, her hands frozen in midair. Then Ruin dips ever so slightly, folding his body over hers in a gradual collapse. If it weren’t for my brothers holding him up, I have no doubt that Ruin would engulf her like a wave crashing over the shore as it gives into the pull of gravity.
All of my brothers are quickly giving into Celia’s magnetism, even Thanatos , in his own way. It’s an inevitability for us and always has been, really. But instead of fighting that pull, Celia is finally learned to accept it. To embrace it, just like she’s trying to do with Ruin right now. She carefully wraps her arms around Ruin’s torso and allows him to fall into her at his own pace, the two of them sharing a moment unlike any I’ve ever seen. For once, Rebel isn’t twitching with impatience for the next step; he’s joining them in the embrace, hooking his arm over Celia’s hips and sliding into place beside them.
Thanatos is the one who doesn’t move, stiff as a board as he watches their display of affection. Conflict wars in his eyes until Celia reaches out her hand and grabs the hem of his shirt, pulling him closer. He doesn’t hug any of them but takes a deep, full-bodied breath and places his open palm on Celia’s lower back.
A part of me is jealous that Celia ran to Ruin so quickly, but if there’s one thing I’ll never begrudge her, it’s loving my brothers as much as I do.
More than I do.
Slowly, I tear my gaze away from the tender scene unfolding and tap my fingertips on the table to draw Mikhail’s attention. “Like I said.” I don’t bother hiding my smirk. “Ruin is coming with us.”