40. It’s Fucking Getting It
40
IT’S FUCKING GETTING IT
GHOST
With a bag of chips and a packet of peanuts, I lean against the stone wall of Mom’s cell and look at the unopened snacks. Killian brought them to me. Because he found the calling card that told him I like salty snacks.
Now I’ve brought him a smoothie and he’s brought me snacks, and it’s all so fucking soft that… that I like it when I didn’t think I would. I’m getting too comfortable with him, relying on him for things I’m telling myself I’m just owed. Which brings me back to love and how people know they feel it.
“You ever love dad?”
Mom’s hair is stringy because she refuses to use her shower. I mean, her room is a cell with a gate for a door, but it’s updated enough to have some amenities. Why is she here? Because Remi and Selena thought it’d be a good way to keep her out of the path of the Reaper Corp war, especially after Axel tried getting her mind back with no luck. But me? I want her locked in here as a prisoner now that I know what she did to Dad. Something still ain’t right in her head. I don’t know if that’s Axel’s fault or if she just snapped at some point, but she went from being an alright mom—or so I thought—to a useless sack of skin with a somewhat functioning mind. I haven’t liked her since she cut Remi’s wrist.
“Yes,” she says, leaning against the opposite wall but sitting on her bed. “I love all of you.”
“Why’d you kill him then?”
“He killed himself.”
“You helped him along.” I stretch my legs out straight, cross my ankles, and open the damn chips. “Tell me why?”
“I never intended…” She cries, burying her face in her hands, and I tilt my head, wondering how much of it is a show and how much is real. “I never meant to do it! He told me to!”
The gate creaks open and Krypt comes in, sitting down next to me and stealing my peanuts. He doesn’t say shit, but he crosses his ankles, leans back against the wall, and watches my mom. We snack while Mom cries, neither of us uncomfortable with other people’s sadness.
“Axel told me some shit while he had me,” he says, chewing nuts. “That your mom and Malone were high school sweethearts or something. That your dad was taking too long to succumb to the curse, so she helped him get there faster.”
“I know that part.” I crush the bag of chips, but Krypt keeps talking.
“He also said that she was born into a cult, married a cursed man, left a cult, relied on another cult, and all that time, Malone whispered shit in her ear. Her mind isn’t fucked because of Axel. It’s fucked because she’s been manipulated all her life. She’s just snapping now because no one is forcing her thoughts and she can’t think on her own. Can’t hide it anymore.”
Then how could she hide it all our lives? I’ve heard parents have superpowers, but if she’s been fucked up all this time, she can mask better than Killian can. Perhaps her puppeteer was the one telling her how to be a parent. What’s made her slip up now? Maybe because we’re all grown and she doesn’t have to hide it anymore in order to be our mom. Or maybe she doesn’t have anyone to hide behind now. No more master.
Mom’s still crying, and I don’t know why Krypt is telling me this. Chatting has never really been our strongest point.
“You defending her?” I ask.
“No.”
“She made my dad kill himself.”
“So kill her. The fuck do you want me to say? I don’t give a shit.” He tosses peanuts into his mouth. He sucks at remorse more than I do, so I brush it off and shake my head, eating a few more chips.
“Is love just another form of manipulation?” I ask him, since… he must know, right?
He shrugs. “Fuck if I know. At least it’s the kind that feels good.”
But does it? Because Killian sacrificed his damn life for me back in Reaper City, and if that was love, I can’t handle how terrifying it is. I can’t live through that again. It hurts, and as much as I enjoy a brush with danger, I’ve never willingly hurt myself like this before. Whatever this feeling is, it’s horrifying because it’s so strong and out of my control. I wish I could shut it off, tell myself that I don’t give a fuck about him, and let it all go. But he’s stuck in me, and no matter how many times I remind myself it’s a weakness, the feeling doesn’t budge.
“Remi okay after, uh, Tim?”
“He likes to play the hero. He’s fine. Relieved, I think.” Krypt’s knee bumps mine when he shifts his leg. “Bargain’s over now, Ghost. Where does that leave us?”
The back of my head thunks off the wall and my jaw itches with healing words. “Fucking each other’s brothers, I guess.”
“I guess,” he repeats.
The moment slows, Mom keeps crying to herself, and we chew our salty snacks. Am I settled? Did the curse really lift? Am I, god-fucking-forbid, happy? My toes twitch out a soundless beat in my boots, wiggling in front of me because there’s more I want to say, but I don’t know how to say it. Or if I even need to.
I clear my throat.
So does he.
“It’s more,” he blurts.
“Not just fucking,” I blurt at the same time.
“Yep.” He stands, uncomfortable as fuck.
“Yeah.” I stand with him.
His eyes meet mine. I look away first. I nod. Krypt nods. He leaves. God, that was awkward, but at least it’s out there.
“You love the other Hallows boy?” Mom asks.
“You love Gregory Malone?” I snap back. “The man who haunted three of your sons and helped push two of them into early graves?”
“No,” she cries. “No! I don’t. Please, let me out of here!”
“Then why do you keep asking for him?”
Her face crinkles in confusion, like she doesn’t think she’s been asking for him and doesn’t know what I’m talking about. Wow, she’s messed up.
She’s not sane. Neither am I, but at least I can function. Maybe she’s telling the truth, and maybe Krypt is right, but I’m not the one who is going to make this judgement call. If Remi and Selena want her to stay here, she will. If they want to check her into the legitimate part of the asylum, they can. If they want to send her back home to potentially die in this upcoming war, great. I’m washing my hands of it. I don’t give enough of a fuck anyway. I just want the bitch to suffer for what she did to our dad.
I grab the empty chip bag and swear at it as I leave. “Fuck, he’s soft.” I head back to Vile House for the meeting Director called.
* * *
Facts is extra jittery since the parade on Death Row last night. I didn’t get the chance to introduce him to Novak, but he eavesdropped without butting in, so at least he has some sort of idea about the guy. I grin at him, and he blinks at me, mouthing ‘hello’ to himself, before looking away like I don’t exist. Normally, that would piss me off. I snort instead, amused at how awkward he is about sexual interests.
“With the keycodes you two got,” Director says, nodding at me and Riot. Killian? The fuck do I call him here? “We’ve been able to read the Reaper Corp chips in every one of their brains. The three prisoners we got from Misfit Hall were part of a breach task force.”
“What?” Menace cuts in. “They were literally bred and trained just to breach places?”
“Seems so,” Director answers. “Axel is still going through their encrypted files, and Glitch has been helping.”
Glitch nods. “Yeah. The keycode gives us access to their patient and training information, most of their breeding program traits, and their rank level. The only thing it doesn’t have is real names; they’re mostly code names. Reaper Corp works in specific DNA traits and then trains their people through levels until they reach a useful status. It’s like everyone born from the Reaper Corp program is bred for a specific purpose, but the civilians who lived in the city they took over just got put through mass brainwashing to believe Reaper Corp rule. It’s impressive, even though it pisses me off.”
It's bullshit if you ask me. I mean, if I was the puppeteer, sure, I’d be into it. But I couldn’t imagine being a puppet to serve a purpose in someone else’s show. I live by my agenda, and performing for Vile House furthers it. I do shit for me and only me. Mostly…
I look to my right, where Riot’s knee bounces next to mine under the table. He calls me sweetheart and I’ve slipped a baby out here and there, and maybe I do things for him, but they’re also for me. Can I be in a relationship when I’m this selfish, or will he understand because he’s self-obsessed, too? It’ll probably lead to massive fights because I’ll want him to live by my agenda, and he’ll want me to live by his, and when neither of us give in, the battle will be brutal. Like it always has been. Kinda looking forward to that part. When his knee bounces right into mine, he stops, pressing us together. Glancing up at him, he grins without looking at me, and then his stupid hand moves up my thigh and my fucking asshole clenches.
Jesus.
“And that woman who blew up Death Row was listed as,” Director pauses, looking at Glitch for confirmation.
“Infiltration and scarification.” Glitch shakes his head. “Bitch was literally bred to be a suicide bomber.”
Ransom leans forward, elbows on the table. “What about Benton Wentworth? Anyone scan his brain?”
“You think he’s Reaper Corp?” Facts asks.
Ransom shrugs. “We thought Axel was working with Reaper Corp at the start, and Wentworth was funding his research. He’s a billionaire, seems to evade everyone, met with Yates that night in Janie’s Woods, and now he’s interested in Remi’s house? Why?”
“Because he’s a nosey prick who doesn’t know what team to bat for, so he’s putting spoons everywhere,” Seven says. “I say you just kill him when you meet with him, Director. Off the bastard, take his money, and be done with him. We already held him as a prisoner, so it’s not like he’s going to work with us.”
“There is information I need from him first.” Director inhales through his nose while Killian’s hand slides up my thigh, cupping my cock and rubbing. “He will work with us if he wants property in Moros. We need his money, and we need to know what pokers he has in whose fires. We want him close so we can keep an eye on him. Just like we’re keeping an eye on Lock’s three potential insiders. We leaked the info, and now we wait.”
My lips part and my breath comes out wobbly when my cock firms up and my body sweats. Killian keeps rubbing gently, subtly, and I can’t even help that my thighs have spread.
“I don’t need to tell you all again how proud I am of you for unifying the town. Everyone is working together, on the same page, and allied in this fight. Alas, I’ll say it again. I’m proud of you.”
Kyd’s smile is full of pride. “Awww, thank you, poppa bear!”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Love you.” Kyd stands. “Love all of you!”
“But,” Director butts in. “Another body ended up in the morgue late last night. Being prepped for a funeral and burial.” Director looks right at me and Killian. “Anything to say?”
All I do is breathe when my hips subtly thrust against Killian’s hand. I can feel my face getting red, so I lean forward to brace my elbows on the table to hide my lap. “I’ll be at the funeral,” is all I say.
Killian laughs when Director looks at him. “What? I was keeping my end of the bargain. Sauder curse is over. You’re fucking welcome.”
Everyone groans at his ego, but Director shakes his head again. “Alotta dead bodies turning up from you lately, Riot.”
Killian gives my cock a smack, making me choke. “It’s called romance.”
“Romance?!” Menace cackles. “The fuck do you know about romance?”
I know he’s rubbing my cock so perfectly that I can’t think straight, and if he doesn’t stop, I’m going to come in my pants.
“Who are you romancing?” Director asks.
“This one,” Killian says, tilting his head at me. “Not my fault his love language is murder and death.”
“You might wanna hang back after this meeting,” Director tells us both. “So we can talk about what love means to you both.”
Ransom leans back in his chair, refusing to leave. Menace grabs a bag of candy from his pocket. Kyd plants his chin in his palms to stare at us. Krypt rolls his eyes, and Facts looks like he’s interested in the answer for scientific purposes. Glitch grins at us, and Seven kicks his feet up.
“Fuck all of you,” I snap at them, trying to bat Killian’s hand away. He grabs my thigh instead.
Everyone laughs, but they still don’t move, so I look at Monster. Instead of being interested in mocking us, he looks interested in hearing what love is. For some reason, my heart cracks in half at that. He doesn’t know. None of us really know, but he’s so warped he tries to pick up any bit of information he can about things he was twisted into believing mean something different from what they really mean.
“I fucking know what love is,” Killian says.
“What is it?” Director asks. “Are you sure you want to do this with an audience?”
“Ashamed?” I look at him.
“Fuck you, sweetheart. I ain’t ashamed of shit.” He squeezes my thigh. “It’s picking someone to be yours because they’re too fucked up to survive on their own, so you take them under your?—”
I kick his shins. “You’re the one who’s too fucked up. You drowned me, paralyzed me in my own fucking grave, and hung me in the music shop.”
“Oh my god,” Director’s voice barely breaches my attention.
“And you loved every second of it.” Killian grins, and shit, I did love every second of it. Even the seconds I hated.
Menace laughs hard, and Kyd pulls out a journal—I don’t want to know where from—to jot this down. Everyone else either smirks or snickers, and my cheeks flame.
“Love is owning someone,” I declare.
“Like I own Remiel?” Krypt baits me.
I growl at him. “You don’t fucking own him. He owns you.”
“Not denying it.” He shrugs.
“Okay, I think you both need an appointment with Psych. Maybe get some insight into how you feel love. Yeah?” Director looks at us hopefully.
Well, screw this shit. I really don’t feel ashamed, even though it’s embarrassing. I stand up, dick still hard in my pants. Not ashamed of that either. “It’s fucking getting it. That’s love.”
The room goes quiet, my eyes on Killian’s cocky face. His smirk morphs into something kinder, more understanding, and his eyes meet mine. “It’s fucking getting it,” he repeats.
Yeah. It is. That’s what love is to me.
Quietly, with a raspy voice, Monster asks, “Getting what?”
“Each other,” Director tells him, eyes widening. “Understanding each other.”
“All the parts. Dark and depraved. Volatile and vulnerable,” Killian tells Monster. “Don’t hide the sinister shit, Monster. Someone gets it.”
Ransom watches Monster so intently, but Monster never looks his way. He nods and then stands, looking at the door to ask if the meeting is over.
Director nods. “Yeah, you can all go. Everyone has to be there tomorrow night, though. Final town meeting, and Lock is bringing Yates for his final judgement.”
Everyone gets up, and I start to leave. But fucking hell, I linger. Which makes everyone else linger. And I hate that I’m lingering because it makes me pathetic! I linger so hard that I can’t make myself leave, so I glance back at Killian to find him still in his chair, leaning back with a cocky as hell grin on his face.
“Waiting for something, sweetheart?”
Holy fuck, I hate him. I hate him even more when everyone laughs at my expense again. I’m burning from embarrassment when he gets up, casually walks over to me, and breaks the one rule I told him to abide by: not to kiss me in front of the Vile Boys.
He grips my chin gently, whispers, “Just in case,” and kisses me the way I lingered for.
When the guys all break out in sounds I decide not to decipher, I no longer care if it’s mocking or prideful. This asshole conditioned me to expect the ‘just in case’ kiss, and now I do. Because love is ‘fucking getting it’ and that’s what this kiss is to me. He better not be better at gaslighting than I am.
“Need something else from me?” he asks against my lips, everyone watching.
“I need you to finish what you started when you rubbed my cock.” I kiss him, just in case. Because I want to. “Baby,” I finish.
He smirks, gripping my wrist to drag me from the con room.
Letting go, he plants his palm against my chest, pushing until my back hits the hallway wall. His energy isn’t volatile right now, and when his hand comes back to cup my cock through my pants, I blow out a breath right in his face. As everyone disperses, Killian’s eyes dip down to my once again bruised neck, his handprints almost permanently etched into my skin under my new cuts.
“You know what turns me the fuck on?” he asks as he caresses my cock.
I lean against the wall, dry humping his palm. “Your ego.”
He grins. “Yours. It’s so hypocritical.”
Groaning when he rubs a little harder, getting right in my face, I pant through the pleasure and try to pay attention to his words. “How?”
“Remember how fucking hard you pretended to hate your pet name.”
“I do hate it.”
“Now you beg for it. Like your ego finally clued in and said it’s allowed. Call me baby again, sweetheart. I dare ya.”
My hips wriggle and my head tilts back. “Fuck you.”
“True or false, Soren? You love being called sweetheart.” His hand pauses when I refuse to answer.
“Ugh.” My chest heaves when I look into his grey eyes. “It grew on me, okay?”
He smiles so charmingly and continues groping me. “You my sweetheart?”
I thrust against his hand.
“Answer me.”
“Yes. Fuck.”
His lips brush mine when he asks, “And who am I?”
I taste him on my tongue, breathe him in through my nose, and feel his hand so thoroughly that my balls tighten and my abs tense. “My baby.” I moan through it, my boxers dampening with cum. My head falls forward, pressing against his. I look down, watching his hand slow, rubbing me through my orgasm gently, so fucking perfectly that I shiver from head to toe. “Mine, baby.”
Killian presses his lips to mine as his hand stops moving. He doesn’t say just in case , but I know he’s thinking it, so I feel it. He’s answering yes, and I’m answering yes right back. I slump, going limp against him and the wall.
“I got your salty snacks,” I mumble, unsure why. I’m not thanking him, but…
“I’ll give you another salty snack later,” he says, laughing. Ruining the moment. I hate that I’m laughing, too.