Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
But they are all slaves to Cain, whether or not they realize it. And I will not raise a child in Cain’s orbit. He’s too… malevolent.
Monster stops in front of a table seating four men, though I only recognize two of them, Max and Tobias. I’ve seen the two other guys around—they were in and out of the apartment while Greyson was recovering—but I don’t remember their names or know much about him.
Tobias, predictably, is on his computer. Max is speaking with an unfamiliar guy, a man who’s tatted from his neck down to his fingertips. All four men turn their attention to Monster and me as we approach, and the tatted guy Max was talking to cracks a smile.
“Would you look at that,” he says with a whistle. “Grey emerges and brings his girl with him. Things must be going well in paradise.”
“Sure,” I reply glibly. “If you call captivity and being surrounded by endless man-children paradise. Personally, I think of it as karma for whatever sins I committed in my last life.”
Tattoo Guy’s eyebrows inch upward on his forehead. After a few beats of silence, he throws his head back and roars with laughter. Everyone else at the table joins in, and Greyson takes it upon himself to seat me in a chair right beside him.
“I like her,” Tattoo Guy says, pointing at me and nodding with approval. “She’s gonna be fun.”
“Scarlett,” Tobias says without looking up, “these idiots are part of Greyson’s unit—with the exception of Max. He’s a floater. That one’s Elijah,” he says, nodding at Tattoo Guy, “and the quiet one’s Bryan. Don’t mind his silence; he’s stewing over losing a card game to me earlier.”
“I didn’t lose,” Bryan snaps. “You fucking cheated.”
Tobias gives him a dead-eyed stare. “Prove it.”
The two proceed to get into an argument over the aforementioned card game.
Greyson addresses Max quietly. “Watch her while I get food?”
Max nods. “You got it.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” I mutter, gazing at Monster as he walks away.
“I’m not a babysitter; I’m security.” Max lowers his voice. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re the closest table to Cain. Cain is unpredictable at the best of times. Believe me, you’ll be glad of my babysitting if he decides to try something.”
I swallow, glancing at Cain over my shoulder. He meets my eyes and arches an eyebrow; I suppress the shiver that threatens to break my composure, and turn back to Max.
The strange tension that existed between me and Max isn’t present—not anymore.
There’s still the memory of that tension, but it’s dispersed.
It makes me more comfortable around him, but it also brings questions to mind.
I still remember him saying that if it weren’t for Greyson, we’d be a lot more than friends…
I know he and Greyson were arguing at the time.
It seems likely that they made up and have decided to each stay in their respective lanes, for which I’m grateful.
I think I might appreciate Max as a friend, but I already have enough romantic drama in my life.
I am not looking to muddy the waters any further.
“So, Greyson’s Girl—”
“My name is Scarlett,” I interject, interrupting Elijah. “I’m not Greyson’s Girl, and I don’t appreciate being reduced to property.” If Elijah treats me the same way Cain does, I just might have to poison him.
Elijah grins. “Alright, Scarlett. Tell us about yourself.”
“I poisoned Greyson’s tea and escaped the first time I was here,” I say. “If anyone fucks with me, they’re next.”
Raucous laughter erupts around the table. Even Tobias, usually sullen, cracks a smile.
“You’ll fit in here just fine,” Bryan says, speaking for the first time. “Don’t worry, Scarlett. You won’t have to poison any of us.”
“If they’re dumb enough to fuck with you, Greyson will get to them first,” Max tells me. “Most people would rather dig their spleen out with a rusty spoon than face him when he’s pissed off.”
“You don’t seem to fall into that category,” I quip.
Max shrugs. “Never said I was smart. Only protective.”
That’s when it clicks. I don’t think Max was ever truly attracted to me… but I think he got protective because he saw me as a damsel in distress. A woman being harmed, who was in need of rescuing and protection.
I gaze at him curiously, wondering what could’ve led a man like this down the path of being a paid assassin who lives in some strange secret society.
He seems too… light for this place. From what I’ve gathered, his background is partly in veterinary practices, partly in physical therapy.
Whatever the case, it seems like he always tried to help people.
But now, he’s here. Killing instead of helping.
Only he does still help. He helped me when I was stabbed in the thigh, then did the same for Monster—even when the two of them were at odds. When Max saw I was in need of saving, he tried to step up.
I abhor the idea of women being kidnapped to this fortress and kept here for life…
but I think whoever Max chooses will have it the easiest. There’s still a lot of humanity left in him.
And, although the Nighthawks surrounding me seem decent enough right now, I’m under no illusions that they’re all probably super fucked up.
But I don’t think Max is messed up in a way that would make him cruel to his Chosen.
Greyson returns with a large tray of food that he sets in front of me.
We spend the next hour eating and even talking with his unit…
and to my surprise, I find I don’t hate it.
Elijah, despite being the most physically intimidating of the bunch, is also the loudest and funniest. Max is a close second.
Bryan and Tobias are the quiet ones, and Monster seems to kind of be the father of the group.
I realize that the men seated here look up to him. More, when they speak to him, it’s with respect in their voice. Very little of the shit-talking is directed toward him, and when it is, the guys follow up with a variation of kidding, don’t kill me.
I don’t temper my behavior at the table. I throw around more death threats than I can count, and the boys eat it up.
At one point, Elijah taunts me by saying, “Don’t go getting too mouthy there, Scarlett. You wouldn’t want to piss anyone off.”
His tone is teasing, but I don’t hold back. “I’m the one you don’t want to piss off, Elijah. I might look small and sweet, but I can develop a poison out of anything. You wouldn’t see me coming.”
“I can attest to that,” Greyson grunts. “I sure as fuck never saw it coming.”
A pregnant pause is followed by yet another round of laughter.
After everyone’s finished with their meals, the dining hall starts to thin out.
Cain leaves, after which the collective Nighthawks seem to lose any lingering tension.
Those who remain after dinner break out more playing cards and even board games.
Beers are passed around, alongside shots of hard liquor.
I accept a beer but don’t ask to be dealt into the hand of cards.
A few matches of poker are played—Greyson and Max clear everyone out.
At the end, I feel strangely… lighter. The Nighthawks as a concept are fucked up, but in practice… they strike me almost as a large, dysfunctional family. I don’t know how to feel about this organization as Greyson takes me back to the apartment, but I’m quiet and thoughtful.
I’m still pissed at him for trying to knock me up…
but he succeeded in proving his point. I still don’t think this is a child-friendly environment, but that doesn’t mean that it might not be me friendly.
I don’t know how to feel—I’ll never be comfortable in a place run by Cain…
but dinner made it clear that while everyone respects and fears Cain as a leader…
they respect and care for Greyson as their commander.
Greyson’s the one they report directly to, while Cain gets his reports from Greyson and Max.
Monster’s explained the structure of leadership to me, and I think it could be likened to a court.
Cain is the king, but he doesn’t spend too much time with the Nighthawks—in his mind, they’re probably the royal guard or mere peasants.
He spends time with his advisors and commanders, Max and Greyson.
Those two spend time with the masses and report to Cain if necessary.
“Did you enjoy dinner?” Monster asks me as we approach the front door to the apartment.
Surprisingly… “I think so.”
He smiles. “Good.”
I wait for him to press his thumb to the biometrics scanner, to let us in so I can cuddle Luci, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “Open it.”
I give him a look that questions his intelligence. “It’s coded to you.”
“Open it,” he emphasizes.
Curiously, I press my thumb to the scanner… and it flashes green. A click sounds as the door unlocks.
I take a step back, startled. Greyson is giving me freedom to go in and out of the apartment as I want? The scanner is two-way. If I can now use it to get in, I’m assuming I can use it to get out.
As if he can hear my thoughts, he says, “Yes, Flower. This is your home too. Now, if you go out without informing me, we’ll have an issue… but you can move around more freely. I only ask that if I’m not with you, you have one of my unit members or Max with you. Guys I can trust to protect you.”
I swallow thickly as I twist the door handle, stunned. “Yeah, okay.”
“I have one more surprise for you,” Monster says, taking my hand and leading me into his office, bringing me straight to his desk. “Well, two.”
There are two boxes on his desk. One that’s the newest iPhone model… and one that’s from an extremely expensive laptop brand.
“These are for you, as well,” he says. “The phone is only programmed to a couple numbers—me, my unit, and your brother. You can speak with your brother at your leisure, should you choose to, and we can communicate when I’m away.
The laptop has been tapped into the greenhouse system, so you can monitor things remotely.
It also has limited internet access.” Monster grips my chin, lifting my head so our gazes collide.
My eyes are wide, and I’m stunned with shock.
Greyson’s are soft and almost… hesitant.
“Elijah’s been into both the iPhone and laptop.
I have access to monitor everything you do on both… but I won’t unless I have a reason to.”
A phone and a laptop shouldn’t be a huge deal. But as a Chosen in the Nighthawks, it very much is… and I treasure the presents. I treasure that Greyson thought to give these to me, knowing that it poses some level of danger to him.
He might’ve mitigated the risk to the best of his abilities, but there’ll always be risk with technology… and he’s willing to take it.
“Thank you,” I breathe. “I… thank you.”
He smiles. “You’re very welcome, Flower.” He leans down and presses a lingering kiss to my lips.
“Now, I’ll let you fire these up. I need to go have a meeting. I’ll be back in an hour or so… and I hope you’re ready to feed me dessert.”