Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Wren
God Needs The Devil – Jonah Kagen
“ B eer, Wren?” Ella asks as she walks into my living room with a few in her hands.
I look down at my phone again, checking if Peach answered my message.
Wren: Congrats again on your project. Promise you’re not going to exhaust yourself working on it, though?
“How about a margarita?” I ask, looking back at Ella as I pretend to relax on the sofa.
“Our margarita queen is busy tonight. She’s working on her research project.”
She eyes me for longer than necessary, clearly looking for the disappointment on my face. I barely bother to hide it.
I’m dying to see Peach, but I’m not so selfish that I would be annoyed with her for working on her passion instead of spending time with us. That’s not what I’m bothered about. I’m worried about the things she does to keep up with the lifestyle she has. No one could stay sane while partying, being an accomplished cheerleader, volunteering at the Silver Falls Women’s Shelter, the back-and-forths between here and Stoneview for the family appearances now that her dad is running for mayor. And, of course, the number of hours she spends on her studies.
She’s skipping a night out with her friends to work? Great. But I also know she went out all weekend, went to Stoneview, and had cheer practice at seven a.m. this morning. And she also started talking about a "rally girls charity event" where she's gathering a group of girls to take care of the lacrosse players during this season in exchange for the lacrosse league donating to a charity that helps young women who have been sexually assaulted on college campuses. I can't believe she's adding to her already full agenda. She should skip drinks to sleep .
Achilles sits next to me, a beer in his hand.
“How does it work? Do you not drink anything if Peach isn’t here to tend to you? Do you starve when she’s not around too?”
I snort, grabbing a beer from the table and opening it with my teeth. “Any man waiting for Peach to do anything for him would die within forty-eight hours.”
Ella runs back to the kitchen as her phone alarm indicates her cookies are finished. At the same time, the doorbell rings, telling us Alex’s boyfriend is here, so she leaves the living room too.
“Wren,” Achilles says, more seriously the second they’re both gone. “I’m going to keep saying this until next Saturday. Peach could be yours. Just bring her to the initiations.”
The same wave of hesitation I always get runs through me until I get a hold of myself. I still don’t know which woman I’m supposedly bringing. Or who my dad is bringing for me.
"No. We talked about this. If Peach and I end up being a thing, I want it to be because she chose me. If I knew she'd choose me over anything else, I'd invite her. But right now, she wouldn't, and if I ask her to initiate, she'll just refuse."
“It’s the only way she’ll be with you. Make her your Hera.”
His condescending way of speaking doesn't get to me like it does others. I've had to learn to keep myself calm and not snap at the smallest things. It's the only way to protect myself and the people around me.
“If I force her to initiate, there's a risk she won't run to me. That also means she could be anyone else’s Hera. Or everyone’s Aphrodite. The only reason I would ever bring Peach into this without her consent is if she needs a favor only the Circle can grant."
Achilles huffs. “Is everyone that dumb around here? Your ex-girlfriend died over the summer. The same night Peach drunkenly told you she could fall for you if you weren’t…how did she put it?”
“Such a dominating fuck.” It comes out naturally because she’s called me that many times. “Look, initiations are in a week. I still want to try to do this the right way.”
He stares at me like I'm some idiot. "You want to do this the right way? In a week? You've had sixteen years, and you think you can turn this around in one week? Are you okay?"
"I was taking it slow. I didn't want to pressure her."
He pinches his lips, so unimpressed I could punch him. "Yeah, that was reaaal slow. Sixteen years slow."
"Fuck you."
"Fuck her , please, for the love of God. You're not some kind of sweet dude who doesn't pressure someone. Peach knows that. She probably doesn't give you a chance because you're too nice with her. Give her a fucking challenge."
"You don't know her like I do."
"That's for sure. Never had my fingers deep in her cu?—"
My gaze cuts him off, and he moves a little farther back on the couch before carrying on.
“Listen. She disappeared with Ania that night, and you know it. And then the poor girl dies? If you didn’t kill her, we both know who did. Here’s the favor she’s going to need soon. Protection from the law. Only the Circle can help, except it will be too late if she’s not already part of it by the time the cops catch up.”
“This is how I know you’re fucked in the head,” I answer calmly. “Because you actually think Peach killed her.”
“Did you?” He looks at me pointedly. “Did the perfect boy snap ? We know what happens when you do.”
He runs a hand through his black hair, flashing me his sadistic smile.
“I didn’t snap.” I huff. “I didn’t kill Ania.”
“Then your precious Penelope did.”
I open my mouth to retort something, but Alex and her boyfriend, Xi, walk into the room.
“Initiate her,” Achilles murmurs before smiling at our friends. “You’ll thank me later.”
I quickly say hi to Xi and leave, pretending to get another beer in the kitchen. Instead, I hang in the hallway between the kitchen and living room, wondering if I should be an asshole like Achilles and simply take what I want. Because it’s no secret I’m desperate to have Peach to myself. Hell, the idea of her having no choice but to be devoted to me is something that has been stuck in my mind for months. But I didn’t break all the times Achilles suggested I send her an invite, and I won’t break now.
I take a deep breath, check my phone that still doesn’t have a message from Peach, and I’m about to head back to the living room, when Xi joins me in the hallway.
“I have something to show you,” he says in his toneless voice.
Could be good, could be someone’s death. No one ever really knows.
He shows me his phone, and my heart drops right away. It’s a message from Peach.
Peach: Can Addie come to my house tonight? It’s just me.
Xi: You know I don’t do this anymore.
Peach: Who’s your friend on campus?
Xi: Alex would kill me if I told you.
“Come on, Peach,” I mutter to myself, running a hand across my face. It was after I messaged her. She’s ignoring me but talking to Xi.
“You know what she means by Addie, right?” he double-checks.
Xi isn’t from Stoneview like us. Alex met him on the North Shore of Silver Falls. Unlike the South Bank, where SFU is, the North Shore is known for its poverty, gangs, and dangerous criminal activities altogether. It doesn’t mean we’re better and they’re worse, but that they don’t have the means to live another kind of life. We do, but we’re just greedy. Stoneview and the South Bank of Silver Falls host more dangerous criminals than the local gangs of the North Shore.
Xi happens to be from there, and he used to be a known drug dealer. Everyone knew his name on campus because he could provide them with any drug they needed. And before he stopped for Alex, Peach was a regular customer of his.
“Yeah, I know. She wants Adderall. She’s got a huge research paper she’s working on. It’s a big deal for her career, and she doesn’t want to fuck it up.”
He shrugs. “Thought you’d want to know.”
The second Xi became part of our circle through Alex, I asked him to let me know if Peach ever tried to buy from him. She’s not looking after herself, destroying her body for the sake of partying and keeping up with her work. Someone has to keep an eye on that.
“I appreciate it. Thank you.” I nod, and we walk back to the living room together.
“Let’s play Scrabble!” Ella does a little dance on the spot. “I want to be with Wren.”
“Fuck that. I’m always with Wren. You can have Alex’s brain,” Achilles defends as I sit next to him.
“Alex doesn’t play Scrabble religiously, like Wren, our boring boy. She’s not good. And Peach isn't here to be his ultimate competition. So I pick Wren.”
“Thanks,” Alex and I reply in unison from our respective insults.
When we play Scrabble, we always do it as teams. It’s just funnier that way. And not only am I a nerd when it comes to this game, but everyone knows I’m also extremely competitive. More often than not, my team wins. And the only times I lose are because Peach made it a point to crush me out of pure combativeness.
“Maybe we should unite against them, Alex,” I say with a half-smile.
“And crush all their hopes of winning? Give them a chance.”
The cookies, Scrabble, and drinks turn into a walk to the Acropolis. Alex and Ella are drunk, Xi following his girlfriend with a scowl on his face. He’d probably rather be home with their pet bunnies than babysitting her on a campus he shouldn’t even be on.
We enter our favorite bar, and Achilles somehow already has a girl on his lap by the time I come back to the table they snatched, bringing a platter of drinks to everyone.
“Wren,” the girl calls out, as if she knows me. Does she? “You know my friend Marissa? She’s here.” She’s drunk enough to not care at all about the obvious wink she throws my way.
From the corner of my eye, I can see Alex and Ella elbowing each other, giggling as they attempt to hide behind the drinks I’ve just handed them.
“Great.” I nod.
“I’m going to go get her!”
“No, don’t—” It’s too late. The girl jumps off Achilles’s lap, using Xi as furniture as she goes across him to exit the booth.
He grunts, sending dark looks at Ella and Alex, who both can’t stop laughing from across the table.
“Let’s switch,” Xi tells Achilles, so he’s the one against the wall and doesn’t have to live through another woman crushing him to get to our campus fuckboy.
Grabbing a stool, I sit at the end of the booth and take a sip of my beer.
“That was Kirsty, by the way,” Alex tells us. “Since I’m sure none of you remember her.”
“Oh, I remember her,” Achilles says with a bright smile. Or the attempt of it. They never quite reach his ears, always making people uncomfortable enough to know he can't be trusted.
“You remembered her , but did you remember her name?” Ella asks, cocking an eyebrow at him. She gets way too defensive of girls Achilles has fucked when she drinks. To be fair, they deserve better.
“I’m not the phone book, Els. I can’t remember everyone’s name,” he deadpans.
She rolls her eyes and turns to me. “You remember who Marissa is, right?”
“I do.”
“She’s really into you, Wren. Don’t be a dick to her,” she warns.
“When was I ever a dick to her?” I take another sip and shake my head at her. “And don’t say?—”
“When you slept with her freshman year,” she cuts me off, knowing exactly where I was going.
“I just slept with her. I didn’t lead her on.”
“You slept with her your way . She told me.”
“I slept with her the same way I sleep with everyone else,” I defend myself. “I checked if she was okay with?—”
“She was a virgin. She got attached after you dominated her because she didn’t know any better, and now, she’s seeking the same thrill she had with you years ago.”
“She didn’t tell me. I checked with her. She lied,” I defend myself, like I always do when Ella brings up this conversation.
“Of course she lied! You’re Wren fucking Hunter. Anyone would say anything to be one of the lucky girls you sleep with when you’re not desperately waiting for Peach to choose you.”
“Can I record this?” Achilles jumps in. “I just want Murray to see you call women Wren sleeps with lucky ones .”
That gets a laugh out of me, and Ella’s hand automatically grabs her pendant of a lotus flower she wears around her neck. The Hera necklace. Chris Murray might hate the Silent Circle, but he never complains about Ella being devoted to him. And if there’s a guy out there who loves the power he gets to have over his Hera, it’s him. Although he didn’t wait for her to initiate to assert it, whereas I'm still desperately hanging on to the fact that Peach might realize she loves me one day without me having to force her to do so.
“I didn’t— I meant that’s the general consensus.” Blushing, she takes another sip of her drink to take a break. “Oh, come on. Everyone wants to sleep with you, and you know it.” She points an accusatory finger at me.
I chuckle, smiling smugly at her. It’s just so fun to rile her up. “What can I do?” I shrug. “Not my fault I’m irresistible, is it?”
“The question is,” Achilles adds, eyeing our friends. “Do all the girls want to sleep with him because they know he’s so picky and rarely sleeps with anyone, or because he’s just that attractive.”
“He’s that attractive,” Ella and Alex blurt out at the same time.
That finally brings Xi into the conversation.
“Excuse me?” he grunts.
“I guess it’s a bit of both.” Ella nods to herself. “I’m not talking for myself, obviously. But I know what the girls around say. See, with Achilles, people want you because they want to be that special person who finally makes you stop being such a moody fuck who sleeps around.”
“Why are you coming at me? We’re talking about Wren.” He raises his hands, portraying innocence.
“Right. I’m just showing the difference. With Wren, well, first of all, you’re a challenge. They want to compete with Peach and see if they can finally get your attention away from her, but of course, the fact that you’re every girl’s wet dream helps.”
“It’s the shoulders.” Alex giggles. “Look at our boy’s shoulders.”
“Nonsense. It’s the eyes.”
“Look at what you’ve done,” I tell Achilles. “Now our friends are all over me.”
He laughs. “We’re used to that.”
“Alright, time to go home, Alex.” Xi stands up, grabs her drink from her hands, and pulls her out of the booth.
“I’m joking!” she squeals.
“I’m not.”
Pouting, she looks up at him and sweetly asks, “Another drink?”
“And risking me hurting your friend who’s every girl’s wet dream ? I don’t think so. Let’s go.”
They’re out before we can all calm down from our laughing fit.
My eyes cross with Ella right as she freezes with her lips around the rim of her glass.
“What?”
Her baby blues leave mine to look over my shoulder.
“Oh my god. Marissa dyed—” She snorts so badly her margarita spurts from her nose. She coughs, and I tap her back as I move next to her, taking Alex’s spot.
When I follow her gaze, I almost choke.
Kirsty is coming back with her friend. Marissa dyed her hair a copper red, and I can only imagine the reason.
“Please, no,” I murmur.
Ella finally comes back to reality, and her bright drunken eyes go to Achilles, then back to me. “Be nice,” she hisses under her breath.
“Impossible,” Achilles mutters back, just as they reach us.
“Hey, guys,” Marissa greets brightly. “Hey, Wren,” she adds as she puts a hand on my shoulder and flicks her newly red hair.
I flatten my lips, trying to think of the best way to proceed. She doesn’t give me time, already talking generally to the group as Kirsty sits next to Achilles and puts her head on his shoulder.
“Is Peach not here?” Marissa asks with too much excitement in her voice.
“No, but since we have her new clone, I’m sure we’ll still have a good night,” Achilles says with the most serious face anyone could have.
Ella chokes on her drink again, but this time, I’m too shocked by the situation to help her. Kirsty takes over.
“There are no more seats in the booth,” she says, putting a hand on Achilles’s thigh. “You can just sit on Wren’s lap, Marissa.”
I eye the stool I was sitting on before I moved next to Ella and that Kirsty decided to ignore. Great. Checking the time on my phone, I stand to avoid Marissa’s attempt at sitting on me.
“You can just have my seat.” I smile politely at her, then tap her shoulder. “It’s late, and I’ve got lacrosse practice early tomorrow morning.”
“Aw.” She pouts and tilts her head to the side. “I thought practice was on Thursdays? I come watch you sometimes.”
If that’s not fucking scary, I don’t know what is. “And weekends. And many other days of the week,” I conclude, taking a step back from the group.
"Well, just so you know, I signed up to Peach's charity event. Fingers crossed, I get to be your rally girl!"
I blink a few times, incapable of finding any word to turn her down nicely. So, I give up.
“Have a good night," I say.
The last thing I hear is Achilles tutting. “Try being a bit meaner next time,” he tells Marissa. “That’s how Peach keeps him wrapped around her finger.”
I roll my eyes as I walk away, and their voices disappear within the general noise of everyone in the bar. In a sense, he’s not wrong. Peach always making herself inaccessible to me has become a challenge, and who wouldn’t desperately want the one woman they can’t have? But that’s not why I’m obsessed with her.
It’s… everything . There isn’t one thing she does that makes her unattractive to me. Not one flaw I don’t accept. Not one quality I don’t want to nurture, and not a weak part of her I don’t want to protect with all my being.
It’s with those thoughts that I find myself walking to her house again and pulling my body up her balcony.
Check that she’s sleeping. Unlock the door. Slide in without a sound.
The light is still on. She fell asleep in a sitting position on her bed, three pillows propped between her and the headboard. She’s still got her thick, black glasses on, which she’ll swap for her contacts in the morning. Her laptop is on her lap, the screen now black, and there are papers and books all around her.
I huff, finding it easier than usual to make my way to her with the main light on. I take the can of energy drink that’s in one of her hands, her relaxed fingers barely holding on to it, and I shake my head when I see the other three on the floor. She must be exhausted if she still fell asleep with four of those in her system.
It’s when I’m making my way to throw all her cans in the trash by her desk that I see it. The little packet of white pills barely hidden under a book, the paper weight near it, and the white dust still on the wooden desk.
“Peach…you fucking idiot,” I mumble to myself.
I look at the pills, reading the letters engraved on them.
She snorted. Fucking. Ritalin.
I’m silently furious at her for doing this to her body and her brain. I check the time again as I approach the bed. It’s barely two a.m. What kind of burned out is she to sleep through all of the shit she took?
“I’m so mad at you,” I whisper as I take her laptop and put it next to her on the bed.
I slowly slide her glasses from her face, put them on the bedside table, and pull her down as delicately as I can until she’s lying rather than sitting against the pillows. It’s a miracle she doesn’t wake up.
My heart stops when she starts moving, kicking at the covers until one of her legs is free. Not only her leg… I can see all the way to her ass. And she’s not wearing anything but a thong.
I’m too slow to move away as she keeps twisting, and before I know it, she’s using my forearm the same way she usually uses her pillow, hugging it and resting her cheek on it.
Oh. Fuck.
My height makes the way I’m leaning down awkward and uncomfortable, and I can’t straighten up any more now that she has my arm hostage. Cursing to myself, I end up going on my knees by her bed. I look like I’m about to pray to the lord my soul to keep. Except I’m kneeling for no god…only for the woman I’m already used to worshipping.
I rub my free hand over my face. I still have a perfect view of her perky ass, which ultimately gives me the hard-on of my life.
I’m stuck on my knees by the bed of the only woman who makes my heart palpitate while she’s sleeping with a fucking thong. This has got to be some kind of sick joke.
Someone up there is punishing me for being so rude to Marissa earlier.
With her neck against the inside of my forearm, I can feel Peach’s heart beating much faster than it should. It’s no surprise with the energy drinks and Ritalin mix, and it thickens my blood with worry. Now, it’s all I can think about.
“Oh, Peach,” I sigh, my breath caressing her cheek. “Why?” I can’t help my hand when it goes to brush hair away from her face. “Why are you so harsh on yourself, Trouble?”
Playing with her hair, I notice how split the ends of the strands framing her face are. She’s been chewing on them. The more I look at her hair, the more I think of how futile it was for Marissa to dye hers. She’ll never match Peach. And it’s not because of her hair color, or what she wants in bed, or how mean she is. Marissa can’t compete with the way I feel when looking at the woman right in front of me.
She can’t compete with the fact that I stay on my knees for Peach until four a.m. when she decides to move in her sleep and release my arm. She can’t compete with the fact that I completely forget I have to be up early for practice the whole time I’m here. And she sure as hell can’t compete with the fact that I take the Ritalin with me when I leave, because there’s no way I’m going to make it easy for that hurricane of a woman to drug herself whenever she feels like it.
Marissa and the other girls can try all they want. Peach is a stake lodged so fucking deep in my heart, every day that goes by could turn me a little more dangerous to her. Because what if she never changes her mind? What if she stays the stubborn girl she is and never becomes mine? It’s thoughts like these that make Achilles’s voice ring out in my head again.
Initiate her.
She won’t have a choice.
Make her your Hera.
Make her yours.