36. XXXVI
XXXVI
Spencer
P sycho immediately pulled out his phone and went to the kitchen. A beastly roar came twenty seconds later. “WHATTT!?”
He soon rejoined us, switching his phone to speaker, and we were immediately assaulted with high-pitched crying. Ava’s delicate voice seeped through the phone, hardly coherent through her snotty tears. “You have to save Gannicus, now! I can’t lose?—”
“—how do we get down there?” Psycho interrupted.
“PLEASE,” she crooned, with more crying. Spit it out already, for fuck’s sake.
Psycho paced. “Tell us what you know. FUCK! Everywhere I’ve searched is blocked off.”
“Meet me at the condemned theatre in Hangman’s Block,” Ava said. “There is a way.” Psycho came to an abrupt halt, finally processing all the information that Ava just happened to know.
“Ava?” he asked, the question laced with rising menace. “How do you know where to go? How the fuck do you know how to get down into the Caverns? To get to Gannicus?”
“ Please , August. I love him .” Just by her tone, I could tell what type of love she was referring to. None of the innocent friendship bullshit. We were talking about the real deal.
A huge grin spread over my face as I watched her big brother’s undoing.
Psycho paused, and I could feel the air practically vibrating around him. Then, he lost his absolute shit. Like an aggressive bull, Psycho proceeded to smash everything in sight.
The custom coffee table, Aster’s expensive antiques— everything —the violent carnage booming between his roared statements.
“Let him meet his fate!” Smash. “I won’t be fucking saving him!” Crash. “Cause I promise you, Ava.” Bang. “If the games don’t kill him, I WILL!”
It looked so fun, I went to join him. Giggling with mirth, I grasped one of the tall, thin vases when Echo screamed a command. “ STOP! ”
We both flinched, looking around with the classic expressions of guilty toddlers. I let the vase slip through my fingers to smash all over the floor. Aster released a heavy sigh.
Micah approached Psycho with confidence, her palms gliding up his flexing arms to rest upon his rigid shoulders. “You know you’ll regret this if you don’t go to him.”
Ava’s cries filtered back into the fold, her begging grating against my ears.
Psycho clenched his jaw, teeth grinding. “Put Ace on the phone.”
We heard a light shuffle, then Cookie answered. “Yeah?”
“Go with Ava to Hangman’s Block. We will meet you there.” Cookie confirmed. “Oh, and Ace. Don’t let her out of your fucking sight. Keep her there. Whatever means necessary.” His tone was psychopathic.
Then he hung up, cutting off Ava’s sobs in the background. I’d never heard him speak to her like that—so harsh and reprimanding—and I was revelling in it.
Although it was funny, I was still pissed. How many people are going to keep secrets from us? Powerful secrets.
With Ava, Aster and their combined skeletons in the mix, we practically had a full graveyard of fucking treacherous land mines, inevitably proving why we kept our circle so tight for so long. The only people we could truly rely on and trust had the name King. Everyone else was cannon fodder at that point. Psycho and Echo shoved back to the outskirts purely based on their loved ones’ actions.
Micah must have come to the same conclusion, turning to Psycho. “Deal with her, August.” Otherwise, we will. Her directive was clear as fucking glass. He paused from her order, awareness sparking as he took in each of us in turn.
“I’ve got it, baby. I’ll sort it out.”
We all let that placate us with varying amounts of acceptance, ready to have it over and done with. Tonight, the Ludus Maximus are finished.
We didn’t have time to travel back to the Temple and suit up. Lucky for us, Aster had a whole arsenal in her prissy apartment.
I was impressed by her lack of retaliation for the damage Psycho had wrought. Sure, she constantly bitched and cussed us out for destroying her things, but that’s the least she could provide for recompense.
I sensed Echo saddle up behind me, only just realising that we were alone in the weapons room. I peeked over my shoulder, and my breath caught at the magnificence of him. He wore a deep green suit jacket with matching pants, cut and tailored perfectly to his frame. Forfeiting any shirt beneath, his pecs, multiple injuries and tan abs were begging for my tongue to trace the cursive lines, utterly biteable.
We hadn’t had a moment alone to hash out everything since our mind-blowing intimacy the night before. Or address the three words that he had so reverently spoken into existence.
My entire world felt as if it was spinning out of sync. I was a hypocrite, demanding him to be brave yet not returning the sentiment.
So much had happened between us— so much —that our past had me subconsciously second guessing his actions, his very words.
Taking advantage of my distraction, Echo turned and lifted me to sit on top of the counter. I’d stolen a new designer gown and shoes from Aster’s closet—a skintight black dress with two slits sitting high over each leg.
Echo scanned the knife holster I held. Stepping between my legs, he caught the strap in one hand whilst the other tracked up the back of my calf, raising to my knee, then ever higher.
He did it without a word, his sunburst hazel eyes boring into mine as he attached the holster to my thigh. His gaze conveyed a hidden message, his touch worshipful and specific. He wrote a whole letter in those moments, accompanied with his actions—all devotion, all adoration.
Can I believe this? Him?
My fingers pushed the collar of his jacket aside, tracing over the horrendous bruise and bite mark I’d inflicted the night before. “It’s going to leave a scar,” I said absentmindedly.
“I’ll ensure it does,” he said with pride. “To have your permanent mark, your ownership on my skin. Ghost, bite me again .” He was practically humming with energy, the current infectious and overwhelming.
Instead of answering, my hand drifted down to the cuff of his sleeve, the fabric thick and expensive against my skin. The choice was extravagant and entirely my style, although, I was caught on the colour.
As if reading my mind, Echo whispered my answer. “To suit your eyes.”
My eyelids fluttered closed to escape the intensity of him. I wanted to believe in his newfound narrative—that he was there for me, that he cared for me, that he loved me.
I’d always had trust issues. My upbringing wouldn’t account for anything else. Even then I tried, for him, for us.
Firm hands twined in my hair, and heat razed through my system from the firm hold.
I could feel his breath on my lips as he whispered, “I know I’ll just piss you off if I asked you to stay behind.” I tried to pull away, but he kept me there within his iron grip. “So, I’m not going to. Instead, I’ll be by your side every step of the way, permanently stitched to your fucking flesh if I have to be.”
My emotions were a cacophony of contradiction. My mind demanded I push him away, but my body wanted to pull him closer.
Inevitably, my body won, my thighs tightening around his waist as my stiletto heels dug deep into the backs of his legs.
“You are mine. As I am yours, Spence. We do this together.”
“Together?” I replied, dumbstruck. Sceptical of his proposal.
Echo felt my hesitance, pressed forward and kissed the spot behind my ear—his favourite place, and mine too.
“I know you need time,” he muttered. “And I know you still haven’t forgiven me. But I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that I am yours . Last night was pivotal for me, Ghost. And I know it was for you, too. I meant it when I said I love you.”
Silence weighed heavy between us. I hadn’t given it to him yet; that four-letter word that he had carved into my corrupted pounding heart. I wasn’t ready. He had hurt me so thoroughly that I was still healing from the beating he had dealt. Still waiting for him to prove that he wouldn’t turn around and give me that vicious tongue for believing in everything I knew we could be.
Unperturbed by my lack of reply, he proceeded to scatter kisses along my jaw, stopping at the juncture of my lips. “Those words carry weight, Spence. I have never given those words to anyone in my life.”
“But—”
“— No. One .” And as if he had to seal the vow into my skin, he said it again. “ I love you, my strong, brilliant, sweet girl .”
“I’m not sweet.”
“You aren’t?” he asked, voice dipped low with a husky undertone. “Cause I swear, that candy apple-flavoured pussy is the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”
I blindly bit into my lower lip to prevent a groan from escaping. The motion didn’t go unnoticed. Echo took that as an invitation to sink his teeth in, right alongside mine. I gasped at the bite of pain, then he took advantage of the opening.
Lust thickened in my veins and goosebumps riddled my flesh as his wicked tongue invaded my wet, wanting mouth. Desire warred inside me as I thumped that pesky bitch back in her box. When we eventually pulled apart, our chests were heaving.
“I will earn your trust, Spencer. I will earn your respect, your loyalty. But above all, I will earn your love…cause without it, sweetheart, I’m nothing,” Echo said, with such sincerity, I almost believed him. He followed that promise with one last, lingering kiss, then offered his arm for me to take.
I took a moment to process all he’d said, and on autopilot, accepted his offer, my hand slipping into his curved elbow.
Everyone was waiting in the elevator for us, the doors wide open and aggressively beeping.
Emerson had had the initiative to secure Aster to a chair at the kitchen table. I smirked at the elaborate knots. She had no chance of escaping.
Aster pitched a brow as Echo, and I strode past, Fran hot on our heels.
“Is this really necessary?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Why can the dog go with you, but I can’t?”
I spared her a scowl. “Because you’ll get in the way.”
We forbade Aster from coming with us. She remained a vital target of the Ludus and Khaos. Her presence would only cause more suspicion and issues that we didn’t have time to deal with.
Of course, she refused. Hence why she was restrained against her will.
Aster tried to straighten and give me that regal look. Instead, she just came across as an idiot.
I chuckled. “Don’t move, old girl. We’ll be back soon enough.”
Echo’s arm tensed beneath my hand, and I didn’t like it. He may have had laws in his world of Vice, but I didn’t attest to them. And he better fucking realise that Aster had no dominion over me and mine.
I stopped abruptly and stared directly into his orbs. Choose, my face screamed. Choose, my eyes bled.
Echo raised a thumb to rub over my lower lip in reverence. “ No. One,” he repeated, reiterating his previous statement.
I pitched my attention towards Aster to catch her reaction, which was disappointing. She practically gleamed with pride at his answer as if she had given him her approval and permission to do so. Fuck that, and fuck her.
Pointedly turning for the exit, I heard her whisper, “Be safe, Spencer.” Huh. That actually sounded like she meant it.
The elevator doors shut behind us, Fran sitting sentinel at my feet. The space was tight with all four of us Kings, beefed up Psycho and my beautiful Echo. The familiar charge of adrenalin infused my bloodstream from the impending mission we were about to embark on.
As we began to descend, Emerson’s gaze bounced between me and Echo, perusing our gaudy outfits.
Tanner sighed. “They really do suit, don’t they?”
I dramatically yawned at their predictability. I swear, they had no individuality known to mankind. They all wore the same casual attire they usually did. All-black, no substance or flavour. Barf.
Did they not get the memo that the Gladiator Games were a prestigious event?
Emerson ended her inspection by landing on my impractical black stiletto heels. She should’ve known better. We were trained to kill in anything—or absolutely nothing. It’s not my fault I had taste.
“What?” I snapped. “They’re black, aren’t they?”
Psycho snickered from the back. “At least she’s not wearing orange this time.”
I scoffed. “ August, huh? What a shit name. Wonder why you changed it?”
“Fuck you, Killer.”
“Like your sister fucked your best friend? How old is he, again?”
An animalistic rumble seemed to vibrate from his chest, and every set of eyes seemed to narrow in my direction.
“What? Too soon?”