Chapter 5
Thea
By the time we were back near the pack houses, the sun was rising, but Jude still insisted we stop at the big chain grocery.
We picked up ice cream, hot fudge, caramel, whipped cream, and all manner of candy for toppings.
The only concession Jude made to the fact that it was going to be breakfast time was to buy waffle mix.
When we walked out of the grocery store, the sun was up. I drove back to the house while Jude played on his phone.
When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed the lights on in the house and the door open. It sounded like everyone was already up, too, and it was really freaking early for that. I looked over at Jude, my eyebrows raised.
He held up his phone. “I texted everyone and let them know there was a family breakfast of waffles and ice cream.”
He hopped out of the car, grabbing the bags, and I followed him in.
Dexter and Toby were there, although Toby did look like he hadn’t slept yet, so this was probably more like a very late snack after binge-writing all night.
Corbin was there with a crow on his shoulder, already heating up the waffle maker and putting bacon on.
Atlas was in his dog form, and Aiden was sipping coffee and sitting next to Corbin.
I didn’t see Liam and Q, but I wasn’t surprised.
I didn’t really think Q was much of a morning person, so I expected he’d take a little more time to get over here.
Josh and Wilder made their way in then, and I had a moment to wonder if I was supposed to act awkward, or say anything, or do anything, but everyone greeted them the same as usual, and no one made a peep about the evening’s events.
Wilder winked at me when Josh was turned around, which was a little odd, but other than that, it seemed like a perfectly typical family breakfast.
The brothers squabbled about stupid shit, most of them chipped in to cook or set the table or make coffee, and at some point Liam dragged a very cranky Q in, who bitched about it being entirely too early for anyone with half a bain to function.
Aiden just put some coffee in his hands, and Liam stared at Q adoringly while the man literally hissed at him.
It was loud, sometimes obnoxious, and sometimes super sweet, and that wasn’t just the waffles covered in hot fudge, ice cream, whipped cream, and assorted candy.
Jude was right, though. It did help a little with the weird feelings, because transitions were weird. I never really felt quite right in my skin, and sometimes those between times were the worst.
It was a nice morning, and at some point, I managed to find myself sitting next to Josh on the couch. No one paid us any attention, which was exactly what I was looking for.
“Hey,” I murmured quietly, even though anyone could hear us if they tried.
Josh looked over and smiled at me. “Overwhelmed by all their antics?” he asked softly, seeming to sense I was in something of a mood.
I shrugged. “It isn’t that, exactly…” I trailed off. I wasn’t quite sure how to bring up what I wanted to bring up.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked.
Josh was so sweet. Such a nice guy. I looked at him, thinking about everything we’d been through together. We’d dealt with a crazy ass cult and maybe died (although maybe not—the jury was apparently still out on that one). His abusive ex-boyfriend had been partly responsible for that mess, too.
“Don’t you ever… I don’t know. Aren't you ever mad about what happened?” I asked.
I knew he knew what I was talking about.
“Of course,” he said after a minute, surprising me. “I’m mad about everything that happened. I’m mad that anyone was hurt or in danger, and that my idiot ex was the reason. And, yeah, I’m mad about what he did to me. Sometimes I’m really mad when I think about our relationship.”
“But you said you didn’t want him dead. When he was injured by the cult, you said that,” I added.
“I didn’t want him dead. I don’t want anyone dying because of me.
I don’t want to deal with that kind of guilt,” Josh admitted.
“Maybe that’s selfish, but it’s true. And I would feel guilty, since Rick wouldn’t have gotten involved with a cult if I wasn’t dating a hellhound and he hadn’t seen something… strange.”
“So do you wish he was just randomly dead?” I asked. “Do you wish that through no fault of your own he was dead for everything he did to you? For all the harm and pain that he caused you?”
Josh sat back, thinking. We were still talking quietly, but not so quietly as to draw attention. Still, I knew that Wilder was focused in on us. That was okay. It was only right that Wilder be tuned in to whatever his mate was thinking and feeling.
Josh eventually sighed. “No. I don’t wish him dead for anything he did to me. I may hate him sometimes, but mostly I want to heal, and spending all that negative energy on him isn’t what I need to do to heal. Maybe for some people that would work, but not for me.”
“So you really think the world is a better place with him in it?” I asked.
Josh looked over at me, surprised. He tilted his head. “You know, I’m not sure. I don’t know how to answer that. Maybe Rick can be a better person. Maybe everything that happened will make him into someone better. I would hope that for him.”
I raised my eyebrows at him, and he chuckled.
“Really, though,” he added, “I would hope that for others even more than him. I would spare other people going through what I went through. I don’t want anyone to feel like they’re worthless, cheap, or boring.
I care about other people. I don’t care about Rick.
Maybe that’s awful. I don’t know. I don’t care enough to wish him dead, but I do care enough about others to wish that he couldn’t harm anyone else. Maybe that doesn’t make sense.”
I patted his shoulder. “No, that makes perfect sense, Josh. You know, you really are a sweet guy, and I’m sorry that there are assholes out there in the world who will use things like that against people.”
Josh sighed again. “Me, too, Thea. Me, too.”
We sat in silence for a moment longer, and then Jude was laughing maniacally as Dexter sprayed Atlas with the sink sprayer. Josh and I looked at each other, rolled our eyes, and then got up to sort out the guys.
Never a dull moment in a house full of hellhounds.
When it came to revenge, I could be patient. It took two months for me to find the right time.
Rick had healed well enough; it seemed I hadn’t done any permanent damage. He had gone back to doing nights out, but he was usually pretty careful now about where he parked.
I was careful, too. I didn’t look into him on any of my electronic devices, and I left my phone and anything trackable at home when I did my stalking. I’d even checked my car for bugs. I’d found one or two suspicious items I’d removed. I didn’t want Liam knowing where I was.
As nice as it was to have older brothers, sometimes a girl just wanted to work alone.
Besides, the guys were pretty set in their ways, and they seemed sure about what the rules were.
Rick had moved out of his brother’s and was back living with his close friend, so he was at least closer to Paradise Falls. I was sure the guys were keeping an eye on him, but as far as I knew, he made no move whatsoever to contact Josh.
I didn’t think that was his style, anyway. He would be on the hunt for the next person he could ensnare in his web.
It was a shitty, rainy night, and I’d left my car about a mile out and walked the rest of the way.
I heard Rick’s buddy announce that he was heading out for the night.
Poor Rick had a bit of a head cold, so he joked he’d stay home for his drinking, maybe call “that cute blond twink for a blowjob.” They both had a good laugh at that, then Rick’s friend was gone, and Rick was all alone in the house.
I watched him have a few drinks as he watched some tv. It seemed like as good a time as any, so I made my way into the house. I was gonna have a little chat with Rick. I wanted to honor Josh’s wishes, and Rick wasn’t hellbound—there was the possibility that he could change.
He was sitting on the couch, a glass of hard liquor and the bottle on the end table next to him, when I slid in front of him and caged him in with my arms.
“Shhhhh,” I murmured, because he gave a little yelp when he saw my face. “Shhh, I just wanna chat. That’s all. Just chat, and then I promise I’ll leave, okay?”
His eyes darted around, and he seemed to notice that I was alone—no big bad brothers to help me out this time.
“Before you get any ideas, I’d like to remind you that I didn’t need any help last time, so don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
He looked at me, and I could tell he was scared, but mainly he was pissed off. I figured I’d have his cooperation, at least for now, but I didn’t think it would last.
I put my hands on his head, and I sifted through his memories again, but I did it with purpose this time. I made sure I was staring straight into Rick’s eyes, and I went all the way back to his childhood.
I saw how one parent had been shitty and neglectful and verbally abusive, and how the other had spoiled him and tried to make up for the abuse by letting him get away with literally anything. I saw how all the love he’d ever known had been conditional, and on some level, it made me sad.
But then I moved forward, to that first boyfriend.
The one he’d slept with and then made cry afterwards, never speaking to him again and spreading a rumor about him.
The kid had needed to transfer schools. I went through all the lives he had ruined.
All the people he had hurt. It sped by in a rush, all the pain and misery, and it was like I could see the future stretching out, and all I saw was more broken hearts, more wounded souls. More pain.
Rick would bring no joy into the world as he was.
“You could fix it,” I whispered softly. “You were dealt a shitty hand. I know that. You could go back and deal with what they did to you. You could face all that past trauma. It would hurt like hell, and it would be pretty awful, but you would come out better for it. You could heal. You could be a better person.”
I searched his eyes and I saw that little boy for barely a moment, but it didn’t take long for that tiny piece of himself to be pushed to the side.
“Fuck you, bitch. I like my life exactly the way it is. I don’t want to change,” he sneered.
I searched his face again, but any of that softness I’d seen before was gone. There was just Rick the Dick. Still, I had to try.
“You could save that little boy. Only you can do it,” I said. “You could save yourself.”
“That little boy is gone,” Rick said, and there was no sadness in his words. No self-awareness. Nothing. “And I like myself just the way I am.”
I nodded my head. So be it. He’d made his choice.
“Then I hope that little boy can find the peace in the next life that he could not find in this one, and I hope the man can walk a better path,” I said, using both my hands to twist his neck, severing his spinal cord above the C4 vertebra.
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, feeling inside myself.
There was no regret. No, Rick hadn’t been hellbound, not yet, but I had still done the right thing.
I had saved him from causing untold suffering.
Rick may have never committed that one final awful deed to commit himself to hell, but he inflicted a thousand little wounds, and that could be just as deadly as slicing someone’s neck open.
Sometimes things weren’t as clear cut as the guys thought they were.
I took a breath and got to work. I stood up, grabbed Rick’s glass and the bottle, and went into the kitchen. Bless his buddy for being a neat freak and having nice slick floors. I sloshed the drink all over, then I placed it and the bottle on the counter.
Next was Rick. Here was where things got tricky.
The key was to make the neck injury the main and only wound, and also to make it completely viable that Rick would have fallen at just the right angle.
I had already figured out that this was a possibility based on the height of the cabinets, so that wouldn’t be the issue.
Rick usually wore slippers, but it was easy enough to leave those by his chair.
A drinking man might forget his slippers.
So I picked him up, made sure to slide his feet through the drink, and then literally enacted the fall exactly as it would take place in order to crack his neck where I’d cracked it.
I even turned his head the way I’d turned it, and then I let him fall.
Then I touched nothing. That was hard, but this was how he would have fallen, and it was important not to mess with things.
I made my way out of the house, and I jogged back to my car. Rick’s buddy had no outdoor cameras the house, and there were no neighbors I passed with cameras either. I was safe from the cops (and, more importantly, from Liam).
I made it back to my car, and when I climbed in, I almost expected Jude to be waiting in the back seat, but he wasn’t. I started the car and headed back home.
I felt a little bad, and maybe someday I’d tell them, but not just yet.
I was still trying to figure out how to be a hellhound.
They seemed to think we couldn’t kill people who weren’t hellbound, when I knew we could, and I had.
They cleaned up crime scenes with magical flames and shit, and I used good old-fashioned plotting, because I hadn’t quite mastered the magical flames—although I was working on it.
I flexed my hands on the steering wheel. Not that I really needed to worry about magical flames that much anyway. After all, I apparently didn’t leave behind fingerprints. Another way that I was different from everyone else.
But really, none of that mattered.
What mattered was that Josh never had to worry about Rick again. No one ever had to worry about Rick again. And I considered that a job well done.
It wasn’t about revenge. Not really. It was about justice.
And maybe it was also about family, and about helping out people you loved. Maybe it was about not being totally alone.
With that thought, I figured I’d stop on the way home and pick up some ice cream and all the toppings. I was sure some of the guys and their mates would be home, and I knew no one would ever turn down an ice cream party.