27. XXVII
XXVII
Echo
I shouldered my way into my apartment, the air stagnant, atmosphere dead as if it had been vacant since my most recent departure.
It had been several days since Aster found and carted me out alongside our resident doctor. My wound was stitched, blood replaced, although my pride was healing slower than the rest of my physical wounds—which was exacerbated when I flicked on the lights and found no one home.
I’m alone.
I should have been ecstatic. Instead, I found myself on the threshold of Spencer’s room, stripped bare of all personality and life. Her belongings were gone, items that I was so used to seeing in amongst my own things, empty as if never there to begin with.
My scalp screamed as my fingers pulled at my hair, desperately aware that with her departure she had taken a piece of me with her, unknowing and unwilling, it was too late to claim back.
I collapsed on her bed, the residual of her sweet aroma staining the sheets, taunting me with memory.
All my previous words filtered through my brain. All the times I pushed her away when I could have had it all. Frustration built in tandem with tiny fragments of guilt that crept in like poison, infecting any reasoning or rationales I’d foolishly told myself.
Camilla . An ever-present thorn from my past, a revenge I refused to relinquish and grudge I would never let go. She was mine to find, to destroy and eviscerate. Despite the resources I had invested into finding her, the bitch still eluded me. She’d better hope she’s dead, otherwise I’ll make her wish she was if I ever get my hands on her.
Although Spencer had the wrong concept, her assessment was accurate. That conniving cunt stole too much from me, the mere phantom of her still continuing to do so, where it was razing my present and sabotaging my future—a future I never considered, and now frantically wanted to save.
As Spencer put so aptly, I was weak, gutless, a fucking boy . Not a man who was even remotely deserving of claiming a woman as phenomenal as her.
She must have returned to the Temple (wherever the fuck that was), the realisation causing pain to ricochet through my chest. I rubbed over my sternum to lessen the discomfort, yet an ache of hopeless need persisted, refusing to dissipate.
I miss her. I miss everything about her.
There was only one way forward. I had to find Spencer and drag her back. There was no way I was living in that empty shell of a place without her.
It was a high possibility she would stab me on sight— again —the notion causing my cock to harden between my legs.
I didn’t care how many wounds she wanted to inflict. I’d make her listen, hear me out. It was my most valuable ability, after all.
It had been hours. Night had fallen and my feet paved a path into the carpet as Aster continued to deny my calls. As I was about to destroy the fucking phone by throwing it out the window, her voice snapped through the speaker.
“Talk.”
“Are you with her?” I demanded. For some unknown reason, the Kings and Aster had come to an accord, their previous grievances hashed out… Without my input or presence. Which pissed me the fuck off.
Aster paused, no doubt from my disrespectful tone. I don’t give a fuck . Instead of the expected scolding, Aster released a long sigh instead.
“Leave her be, Echo. Give her some breathing space.”
“Who the fuck are you right now? What the fuck have you done with my mistress!?” My scream vibrating down the line. Static was my only reply as Aster remained silent. I didn’t have time for her bullshit. “Are you with her or not?”
Aster hummed in contemplation, and if I could have reached through the phone and choke her, I would have. Then, after ten billion fucking years, she finally answered, just as I was on the verge to really cuss her out.
“She’s at Life Support, celebrating Micah’s birthday. Don’t fuck it?—”
I hung up, ready to collect my Ghost. I’m sure I’d regret disrespecting Aster later, but I had more pressing matters to attend to.
SPENCER
Aster led me and my sisters into the foyer of Life Support, the atmosphere buzzing with undeniable thrill. A tall, slender woman in a sexy nurse costume approached, folding into a severe bow.
“Apologies, Mistress, I wasn’t aware you were attending tonight. How can I help?” she said with the utmost respect.
Aster waved a hand at Micah. “It’s her birthday, and she’s my honoured guest. Show her a good time, will you? Anything they want or need, you fulfil, understand?”
The attendant bobbed her head in reply, slowly unfurling from her bow to take in her new clients, when I was suddenly knocked off balance by a bulky male bulldozing past. Before I could stab the motherfucker for the insolence, I processed the familiar tattoos layered down his arms.
Psycho crept up behind Micah, latching onto her hips. When comprehension sunk in, her expression transformed into sheer desire as he tipped her chin and captured her mouth. Just like that.
Tanner shuffled up to my side, stance aloof as if he was always there.
A heavy pout pulled from my lips in disappointment. “One night, Tan! NO BOYS ALLOWED!”
He stared back unperturbed. “You’re lucky we lasted as long as we did. If I had to listen to anymore of his whining, I’d be the one sent to Oakview?—”
“Trust me, you’d die of boredom,” said a low, rough voice from behind. I peeked over Tanner’s shoulder to find a shaggy blonde-haired teen wearing a loose hoodie and jeans, his teal eyes burning into me.
I smirked. “And who is this cutie?”
Emerson pushed through to lay an arm over his shoulders, which was a stretch due to their height difference. “This here is Micah’s present.”
I perked an eyebrow, gaze tracking over him with renewed interest. “I didn’t know Psycho was a sharer.” A light blush raised over his cheeks, and I chuckled. “You must be Cookie?”
Cookie fiddled with a worn silver lighter. “You’ve heard of me?”
“Only that you’re insane.” He flinched. “Which means you’ll fit right in.”
Psycho decided that was the perfect time to pipe up. “So, are we going to celebrate my golden girl, or what?”
My lids narrowed on the overzealous imbecile, catching on his hands that remained on Micah’s waist. His knuckles were red and fresh with a new tattoo, which sent my eyes rolling.
As one, we turned to Aster, who’d patiently waited for our party to get their shit together. “Is that everyone?”
Micah nodded, biting into her lower lip. Fucking kill me now.
“I have business to attend to. Call if you need,” Aster added, before spinning on her stiletto heel and disappearing through a side door.
The blonde attendant led us into the most exclusive nightclub of Junction City. “Welcome to Life Support. No matter your affliction, we’re sure to have the cure.”
Life Support had reached its peak, a hospital-themed nightclub limited to those who had the money or breeding to attend without getting into debt up to their fucking eyeballs.
The place was one gigantic maze, with three main sections that catered to every specific niche, calling to your deepest desires or weakness.
Stimulants, Depressants and Hallucinogens.
Whatever your ammo, you were catered for. With countless hidden rooms and various passageways, you were sure to find your people—or substance.
I had to give it to the ingenious old bitch. Aster knew how to run a party, and turn that shit into an exorbitant profit. What would usually be considered a risky business venture had turned into the most sought after location after dark.
No one would dare move against her, since most of the elite were already on her payroll—or wanted to be. The rich and famous offered excessive amounts to set foot in this joint alone. She had power, control, complete dominance over her domain… And I was envious.
Aster and Echo had everything I wanted, everything that should have been mine. We were fucking Kings, still living in the shadows, biding our time to take back everything that had been stolen from us. And that time was well and truly up.
The attendant led us through a large, clinical-themed room called the Medical Bay, the area packed with people lounging and mingling hooked up to hanging intravenous bags, filled with various drugs.
I skimmed the area, not really paying attention since I was already lost. Then, a familiar chuckle caught my attention. Remi sat crossed-legged next to a beautiful male who wore a doctor’s lab coat with nothing underneath— naught, zilch, nada. I couldn’t stop staring at his thing , which had a piercing directly through the head. He was a fellow kindred spirit, and I wanted to be his friend.
“Spencer?” Remi interrupted. Thank goodness he was dressed in slacks (sure, he didn’t have a shirt on, but I wasn’t going to complain about that), otherwise I would have had whiplash from ping-ponging between both their perfect dicks. “You can stop staring darling. It’s not going to bite ya,” Remi said, voice closer now.
I turned to find a clear, mischievous smirk plastered over his face before he enveloped me in a crushing hug. That’s when I realised an intravenous line was connected to his arm, pumping his veins with god knows what.
Remi waved over my shoulder to my entourage, and pointed us to the double doors. “That’s where you want to go. I’ll find you there after my infusion,” he added.
I left with my crew, and turned one last time to catch a glimpse of that piercing—except Remi blocked the view, mischievousness gleaming in his eyes as he shook his head. “Killjoy,” I mouthed before popping a lollipop in my mouth. He winked in return.
Bodies gyrated to a pounding rhythm, strobe lights flashing over the vibrating dance floor as I scanned the crowd from the bar. Attendants dressed as sexy medical staff walked around with gas cylinders, offering various inhalants to enhance your high.
A sweaty male with overpowering aftershave bumped into my side, lingering a little longer than necessary. My lip curled at the obnoxious ass as I visibly pulled away. Like everyone else, he wore white—a requirement on entry. The blank attire was the perfect canvas as patrons were sprayed with fake blood and coloured paint that glowed in the dark.
Which wasn’t an issue in itself, except the only thing he wore was snug tighty-whities and nothing else, the imprint of his gigantic penis punching through the thin fabric, hardly restrained. Cringe.
“Are men usually intimidated by you?” He smirked, giving off that big dick energy.
“Are you?”
“I’m not intimidated, I’m captivated, ” he added, his gaze tracking down my frame.
I pitched a hip and stared directly at his package. “Makes sense. You’re no man, you’re a fucking gorilla.”
He howled as if I was giving him a compliment rather than an insult. Then, he grabbed my hand. “I knew you’d want a feel.”
Aware of my limited space, I gave up a sweet smile and laced my fingers with his. “Oh, honey, I really don’t.” In one fluid motion, I rotated his arm, driving his limb backwards with rapid force until his elbow popped out of the socket.
His laughing howl transitioned into a painful scream as he held onto his limp arm, eyes blazing with hatred. But before he could attack me, security was already dragging him and his third leg out the door.
Remi replaced the vacant space at my side with a low whistle. His white slacks and bare chest were freckled with fake blood that accentuated his silver eyes—which were gleaming with intoxication.
“Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
I fluttered my lashes as the bartender dressed as a nurse placed my cocktail on the counter, and Remi swiped the glass, sniffing the contents.
“Want one of mine?” he asked, offering one of the many syringes shoved into his waistband, the contents swirling with the club’s signature shots.
I scrunched my nose, shaking my head. “What is it?”
“It’s called Heart Attack.”
“Hmm, figures.”
Remi laughed, tipped his head back and squirted the shot down his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the action erotic and sensual. Unintentionally, my gaze tracked the movement.
“Sure you don’t want one?” Remi asked, cutting into my wayward thoughts. My eyes had caught on his chiselled abs and decided to make a home there, apparently. “You can lick it off me, if you want. Free of charge,” he finished with a wink.
I shrugged. “You’re the perfect male specimen, Remi. You already know that. No harm in admiring a friend, now, is there?”
It may have been a trick of the moving LED lights, but his silver eyes seemed to ignite at my admiration before they settled back into the best friend I knew. I rubbed the back of my lids, ensuring my vision wasn’t failing me, and Remi released a raucous drunk laugh, the sound joyous.
“Is it off-limits if I admire your sisters, then?”
I shifted following his gaze, spotting Micah and Emerson in the middle of the dance floor, revolving around each other as they swayed to the beat. I downed my drink like the bad ass bitch I was and grabbed Remi’s hand.
“If you want to keep your body parts attached, keep them to yourself,” I said before leading us through the flock of men that surrounded my sisters.
Micah wore a strapless mini dress, the majority of her tattoos on show—an intimidating bombshell that could make anyone bow and kiss her toes with a simple command. Emerson, on the other hand, was the surprising wildcard. She’d fought against my choice of attire until Micah specifically requested the dress for her birthday. And Emerson, being Emerson, couldn’t resist.
My blonde beauty of a sister wore a bodycon minidress, the tight fabric accentuating her thin waist and toned legs. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her without jeans, and I’d cussed her out when she’d finally given us a glimpse of her unblemished skin beneath. She didn’t look like some angelic innocent—instead, she was a fallen angel, leaking potent depravity and sin. Just from looking at her, you’d happily take a bite of the forbidden despite the taste leading you to hell.
I had no idea where our boys had disappeared to, but I was all too willing to take advantage of their omission. My sister’s expressions brightened with a tipsy buzz as they welcomed Remi and I into the fold, spinning and twirling until we were one tangled mess, the crowd encroaching closer as I closed my eyes and let the blissful party take me hostage.
Firm hands latched onto my hips, and my lids opened to be consumed by vibrant silver, pupils dilated and fixated on my mouth. “ Spence ,” Remi mouthed. I couldn’t hear him over the thumping music, but his lips shaped my name as if releasing a vital breath.
My hands automatically traced up his arms to settle over his shoulders, his warmth seeping into my flesh with familiar comfort.
It could be so easy to press my lips to his, to drown myself in this calm presence that would never hurt me. Unlike the one person who had torn out my fucking heart.
Forget him.
And before I could decide anything, Remi lowered his head, lips lining up to my ear causing a shiver to cascade down my spine. So easy.
“Spenc—”
Then, I was ripped out of his grasp, where a blistering chill snuffed out that warmth as I stared into the blazing hazel eyes of he who owned me.