28. XXVIII
XXVIII
Echo
I roamed Life Support on a fucking mission, a blearing beacon of black dread in an endless sea of white. All someone had to do was see my expression to know they’d better stay the fuck away.
Entering the main party room, I vaulted onto the bar, that invisible tether pulled taut as I hunted for her bewitching, fucking enthralling energy that forever linked us together. My attention easily marked Spencer in the congested space, white skater dress pressed up against Remi. The image nearly sent me into another panic attack, the booming music lulling to a muffled beat in my ears as the world shook around me.
Then, Remi’s arms wrapped my Ghost in a close embrace, forms colliding together. Pain lanced through my fresh wound as I practically stormed the duo, ripping Spencer out of his grasp and into my chest.
Her green eyes bled into mine, surprise sparking over her features. “Oh, you’re alive.”
My jaw clenched, grinding teeth sending shooting pains down my neck. “You missed all the vital organs. Merely a flesh wound, sweetheart. Now, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Celebrating.”
“Not without me, you aren’t!” I screeched. Remi flinched beside us, face draining of colour, while Spencer’s sisters discreetly watched on, giving us the required space to sort out our shit. If only that put a restraint on my seething anger. “Get your ass off this dance floor. We’re going home.”
“Home? Where is that exactly?” Her lashes fluttered, the little terror.
“ You. Know. Where .”
“Oh, I thought you said…”
I blew out a breath, giving up the last blockade holding me back— us back. “Look, you want a fucking apology, here it is. I shouldn’t have said that to you. My home is your home.”
One second. Two seconds.
Spencer scoffed. “Is that it? Your apology? You know, you’re missing a very important four-letter word in there.”
All of a sudden, I felt faint, fucking dizzy. Is that what she wants? That four-letter word has never passed my lips—ever.
Spencer took in my expression and giggled. “Oh my god, you thought I meant the L word. I don’t need that from you. I’ll never need that from you. As if I don’t have enough already.” She sobered, opening her arms, chin lifting to her companions.
Her sincerity gutted me, the blaring truth staring back without a shadow of doubt. She had those who loved her, wholeheartedly, and she them.
My hands twitched, wanting to grasp onto something entirely intangible. They had what I wanted, and in that fraction of a moment, I was willing to rip it from them in order to not be left out on my own— deserted and alone.
Spencer continued her rant as if I wasn’t having some existential crisis. “Although that’s fucking hilarious, that’s not what I meant. I’m talking about another four letter word, just as sinister, just as ominous and non-existent in your vocabulary. Starts with S, ends with ooorryyy.”
“Funny. Pretty sure that sinister word you’re referring to has five letters, not four,” I said with a cocky sneer. Spencer mentally tallied my find, her expression turning sour. Pissed off, she turned to leave, and I was having none of that.
I growled, leaning down so I could whisper in her ear. “ I swear, Spen ?—”
“Oh, you’re using your angry voice. Will you spank me for being a naughty girl?”
“I just might,” I replied, biting down on her neck on instinct, her sweet voice rewarding me with a moan.
Spencer looked up, her expression luring me in until my lips were an inch away from hers. “ Fuck. You,” she said, tearing out of my hold.
Remi took the opportunity and grabbed her hand, leading her away. She followed, departing without a single look my way, and I swear, I was about to fucking kill him.
As I went to charge after them, I was bodychecked by Pretty Boy Tanner, his hard chest ricocheting against mine, making me lose focus of my target.
“You keep pushing, and she’ll kill you,” he said, pointedly glancing at the fresh blood staining my shirt, failing to hide my injury beneath.
“She tried and failed,” I said, and he shook his head like I was the dumbest person in the room. “What’s with the warning anyway? Are you worried about little old me?” I mocked.
“If you die, it’s not you I worry about,” he said, so low, I almost missed it. His tirade was cut short by a pretty brunette who pulled on his arm, coercing him to dance with her. Tanner stood rigid, the least bit inclined to touch this woman, who didn’t seem to catch the hint. The smooth, dark skin of his face began to crack at the seams, his unbothered mask showing glimpses of the grim reaper beneath.
Then, Emerson popped in from nowhere, wrenched the girl's fingers back and hissed in her face. No way to misinterpret that delivery, the woman scurried away in a flash.
I was on autopilot, my feet leading me away from the Kings. I wanted to destroy something— anything —as the newfound ache in my chest only grew with each step that led me away from her.
The worst part? I had no fucking right to the way I was feeling. All I’d done over the past couple of days was ruminate on all she’d said.
Spencer is right . I was a coward, a gutless pussy, an emotionally damaged man-child. Proved by the scathing words I carelessly threw at her. Which were all fucking lies, born and bred from my own demons.
And with my tainted past and toxic barbs, I hadn’t just pushed her away; I’d practically shoved her into another man’s arms. God, I am the worst idiot.
Regret wasn’t an emotion I was familiar with, but I’d give anything to rewind time and take it all back. To do it all differently, and utter that one word she so desperately sought from me.
Alas, the enlightenment came entirely too late.
My need for escape was binding, however, I couldn’t bring myself to leave without knowing she was safe. If I couldn’t have her, I’d settle for being her protection in whatever way possible.
So, like the masochist moron I was, I remained in the main stimulation room. Pivoting for the flight of stairs to the VIP area, I sought a private space to drown all my worries with the euphoric high only Vice could provide.
The entire elevated platform was booked and busy, teeming with the best that JC had to offer, money and power roiling the air. One could empty their guts and wipe their soiled face with hundred dollar bills.
I came to a halt in front of the most exclusive booth we had on offer, the location providing a clean sweep of the room. An upstart male sat front and centre, holding court amongst the sycophants who fawned over his washboard abs and sparkling blue eyes. He looked familiar, yet I couldn’t picture where from—my thoughts entirely somewhere else, not that it mattered.
Jumping on the centre table, I swiped the tube connected to the gas cylinder, toking hard on the end. Smoke barraged my lungs, and a rush of stimulating high spiked my veins, infecting my head with a delighted haze.
All my troubles drifted away with my sobriety.
The teenage wannabes looked up at me with intoxicated shock. My attention zeroed in on the ringleader, knowing the others would follow behind. “Scram!”
The black-haired, blue-eyed twat jumped to his feet. “DO YOU KNOW WHO I?—"
His statement cut short due to the loaded gun I aimed between his eyes. “ I won’t ask again ,” I said, letting a hint of my Variant filter through.
A tall, slender male, just as good looking, tugged on his arm. “Alexander, come on.”
“I’d listen to your boyfriend, Alexander.”
Blue eyes lingered on my weapon as he contemplated the probability of beating my ass. I didn’t know whether to take that as courage or stupidity, but with my current mood, it would be the worst night to test those odds.
Alexander was smarter than he appeared, shepherding his crew to spread across the remainder of the VIP area, leaving my booth deserted except for the copious drugs and alcohol splayed over the table. They had expensive taste—the only thing I was thankful for that night.
Not long after I flopped down in the vacant centre, three figures swaggered from the shadows, sliding in beside me. I was flanked on either side by none other than Tanner and Psycho, a lanky blonde teen sidelining the latter, teal eyes assessing, intensely cataloguing. Who the fuck is this guy? Emerson’s boyfriend?
Tanner settled back, one foot rising to balance on his knee. “You could have just ordered them out. You do own the place.”
I shrugged, taking another toke from the cylinder, barely processing the burn of potent gas down my throat. “The leaders of this world aren’t used to taking orders, they’re used to giving them. There's only one currency they understand, and lucky for you, I happen to speak fluent rich cunt lingo.”
Psycho snickered and swiped the tube from my hand before inhaling deeply. I was about to fight for it back when my gaze caught on a flash of auburn hair in the centre of the dancing masses. A fucking beacon that couldn’t be missed from our position.
Spencer danced with her sisters, teeth gleaming, expression lively, demeanour open. I’d never seen her like that on my own, around my presence. She looked so… happy. That realisation gutted me deeper, another direct hit to my fucking sanity.
All I could think about was her. That mind, her aura, those lips.
Fuck this.
I threw back three shots of some random concoction. I didn’t know what they were, but it didn’t matter at that point. I needed anything that would purge those thoughts and lost fantasies from my skull.
Psycho gave my shoulder a heavy pat, alerting me to my close audience once more. “Want to talk about it, buddy?”
“ Fuck. Off,” I seethed, teeth grinding together as I poured another drink.
“If you don’t want to lose her, you have to communicate.” I didn’t recognise the voice until I realised it was coming from the unassuming blonde sitting next to Psycho, his all-omniscient gaze staring straight through me.
“Who are you again?” I asked carefully, on the brink of losing my absolute shit.
“This is Ace, my baby brother,” Psycho said, beaming proudly. They looked nothing alike.
“What about him?” I asked, tipping my head to Tanner.
“That there is my grandfather. Cranky, stoic, a shrivelled up dick.” Psycho and Ace broke into laughter as Tanner flipped them off. I even managed to crack a smile.
“What do you say, Pretty Boy?” Psycho continued. “When’s the last time you went for a ride with a girl…or boy, if that’s what you’re into? I don’t know how you’ve been with those sisters for so long and not developed feelings for at least one of them. They’re all so different.”
My drink went down the wrong hole, causing me to cough. “I thought you’re their brother?”
What the fuck?
Psycho snickered. “They’re not technically related, dipshit. Their fathers are adoptive brothers.”
Tanner huffed. “I’m gonna have to sit Micah down.”
“For what?” Psycho asked, unperturbed with Tanner’s icy tone.
“Cause you don’t know how to keep that big fucking mouth from talking shit.”
As they bickered, my mind wondered. Did he ever have a relationship with Spencer? Were there ever feelings between them? Were they ever together?
Great. Now, I had to placate my spiralling thoughts before I lost my mind ruminating on their past. “Did you ever have something with any of them?” That sounded nonchalant, right? Right!?
“Chase—" Tanner cut himself off, shaking his head. “They’re my sisters.” The words were true and final. I was missing something as a flash of heartbreak fluttered over his expression, but I was an unreliable resource to evaluate an emotion that severe, so I let it pass.
We all checked on the girls in question, still swaying to the vibrating base, barricading themselves against the frothing spectators venturing close. I took advantage of the distraction and swiped back the tube from Psycho.
Upon an exhale of thick white smoke, I tried to taunt the beast. “How about you worry about yourself, Psycho?”
“No need to worry about me, boys. I’m in love.”
Tanner scoffed. “We know. It’s fucking sickening.”
“Don’t talk about Doc like that!” Ace piped from the corner, aggression lacing his words, his demeanour catching us unawares for a lanky pipsqueak.
Psycho chuckled, whacking his arm. “Micah can take care of herself… And if not, I’m her executioner. She just has to point me in the right direction.” I groaned, and Psycho’s smile elongated into a serial killer grin. “And if any one of those men down there lays one single finger on her, I swear to you right now, they won’t be breathing in the morning…”
Psycho’s tirade tapered off as his expression turned serious—deadly serious. He had to jinx it, didn’t he? This night was already shit, but now I have to worry about cleaning duty after Psycho inevitably destroys some seedy civilian who can’t keep his hands to himself. Fuck my life.
Instead, he surprised me, his tone ominous. “Ludus Maximus. They’re here.”
Tanner and I jolted to our feet, gaze sweeping the dance floor. “Where?”
“Everywhere.”
With that realisation, the peak of the night was already upon us. The crowd roared in time with the DJ’s countdown as the music pulsed deafeningly loud. Three. Two. One.
Urgency had my gaze swing to the sisters. Spencer wasn’t there.
All turned black as the club lights snuffed out, fake blood spraying from the ceiling, drenching the room in fluorescent red, glowing like a scene from a horror film.
Fuck! How had I missed such an overt invasion? I was too caught up in the high. My ego deluding me into a false sense of security, believing that no one would ever dare trespass on Vice land with such blatant disregard. My mistake—one that I would promptly rectify. Those burly Ludus motherfuckers were about to die for their disrespect.
Frantic, I turned to the boys to let them know we had to move. Instead, I was caught dumbstruck by the purple glow of a skull tattoo, blazing from the underside of Tanner’s chin, the symbol altogether immobilising and terrifying. Ultraviolet.
My eyes widened as if testing out my vision to ensure the drugs weren’t distorting my sight. Then, almost in slow motion, Tanner straightened, expression evil and sinister in the dark. “BOO!”