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Right. Stay put. Why hadn’t I?
Because of those women.
That’s not true. They didn’t bother us. They were just… creepy.
Fine. We left because of Gary. I hate that fucking kid.
Are you making excuses, Dark?
Dark merely grunted at the accusation but didn’t fight it. I could feel the burning need to do something but wasn’t sure what would put out the fire in my stomach. They were waiting for me to respond, but I had nothing to say. I had questions, but I wasn’t sure they wanted to hear them right now.
They were angry with me.
But why?
“I… didn’t want to be there anymore.” Not a lie, but not the entire truth.
Samael’s jaw clicked, his arms tightening around his chest, making the muscles bulge and threatening to rip his shirt. I hoped they did… Right, focus. “Then you fucking call one of us and—”
“No.” The words were out of my mouth before I could pull them back in. But I didn’t regret them.
“Excuse me?” Samael’s tone was murderous, and his restraint was breaking, but I needed to voice this.
“No, you’ve been dangling this over me for weeks.” I checked myself, thanking Dark and Daemon for the extra boost of courage. “But I don’t know why I’m supposed to be running scared, staying low, or why you’re my protective detail. Dad asked, didn’t he? Why?”
Silence.
With clenched fists, I glared at them, pulling away from Aeron and standing up to head to the door. If they were going to stay tight-lipped, I’d see my way out. I knew I’d never make it past the front door, but I hadn’t expected Aeron to move with me, clutching my arms with an exasperated expression before looking at Samael, “Just tell him. He needs to know.” Fuck, this was big, wasn’t it?
“I’m not—”
“He deserves a choice,” Aeron pleaded, his eyes glassy. Tears? Tears? I felt Dark and Daemon trying to pull me back, calm me down, and let the situation play out. But fuck that. I had been patient, wanting these men to tell me in their own goddamn time. I was done waiting.
“And ‘he’ is right here. What the fuck is going on?”
More silence. Uncomfortable. Tense.
Samael groaned, giving in, “Killian, sit. We have some things we need to discuss. Things that maybe we should have gone through a while ago. And then you’ll need to make a decision because we’re not going to be the reason you’re stuck.”
“Wha—” My body went rigid as the three of us tried to grapple with Samael’s words. Maybe I didn’t want to know after all.
“For the love of god, sit the fuck down, Killian.” Slash gestured to the table, and I did so, my entire body vibrating with the anticipation of the story they were about to lay on me. I was going to get the whole picture. The everything. Their childhoods. Their cravings. What led to this moment?
I wasn’t sure. For a moment, I thought it might be better not to know.
SLASH
I watched as Samael spewed the tale of our childhood – how we grew up, the foster homes we suffered through, the last foster home being the worst. How our crafts and dark desires molded as we grew up, and how we learned to blend into society, still doing what we loved.
Samael was the youngest of us three, yet he always seemed older; the way he stood behind us and cared for us, made sure to clean up after us. He never broke. But I saw the first cracks today, and I wasn’t happy. This was bigger than all of us. And now some fucker was pulling Killian into the sick game.
“We met in our first foster home, around five or six years old.”
Killian blinked. “You’re not related?” His look soured when he realized what he had just insinuated.
Samael grunted, unamused. “Killer, we’ve literally all fucked each other, and I told you that we weren’t. Did you really think—”
“No.”
