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CHAPTER ONE: WHEN THE HENS COME HOME TO ROOST
O’GRADY
The golden children of The Society were due to arrive any moment now - in fact, some were already here.
"I'm baack,"Holly sung out upon her arrival as my gaze skimmed over her, seeking if she had - yes - there it was - the brown paper bag that she seemed to clutch tight in her grip.
"What'd you get us?" I grinned lasciviously at her, licking my lips in the process. I was rewarded with a giggle, even though she and I weren'tlike that. Although my cock wasn't able to differentiate, twitching at her high pitched laughter, knowing full well that the girl before me was game to have sex if I wanted it.
Down cowboy. I had very few rules I lived by, which is what made themsacred.
Rule one - rely on yourself. Anything else was a risk.
Rule two - continue to do whatever I had to in order to keep Gemma safe.
Rule three - no fucking The Society staff. We were shackled into their service, which meant each one of us had trauma that often ran so goddamn deep it was a miracle any of us were still standing. Nah. To fuck with someone they had already messed with seemed poor form, and that's all it ever would be - a quick fuck - an easy hit - and then we'd be over. I wasn't about to screw with someone's mental state like that. And the thing about servants in The Society was that they were all desperate tofeel- tobelong. I got it - I really fucking did, but these good time girls could never belong with me. Not when I would sell them out quicker than you could saymoonshineif it meant keeping Gemmasafe. Knowing that made me keep my distance. In the end, it was safer for everyone.
"Scotch," she scrunched up her nose in disgust as if the alcohol somehow offended her. It was all bullshit, of course, I'd seen her suck shots off of Leonel's abs. I exhaled loudly as I contemplated how I wanted to play this - did I want to do this little back and forth dance with her? I mean, shedidjust lift some liquor for me.
"You don't like Scotch?" She made a gagging motion, and that was me, done. I couldn't do the dance - not even if my life depended on it. I smiled at her - a toothy, sardonic smile before snapping my teeth shut. "All the more formethen." I grabbed the bag from her grasp, unscrewed the lid, and pulled thediscreetly hidden bottleto my lips as I took a deep, long swig. It was a shame really, this type of Scotch was made to besavored, but we were never going to be the type of creatures who savored the luxuries of life, not when our very existence was so goddamn precarious.
"Don't be anasshole," she whined as she made a grab for the hidden bottle. I held it just out of reach.
"Oh?" My eyebrow quirked of its own accord. "So, youdowant some." She glared at me, and I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
And then she fucking pouted. Her lips taking on the form of pretentiousness. It was so muchlike them- so much like TheSocietygirls that I almost couldn’t take it - needed to push away. We all picked up whatever tricks and ticks we needed to in order to survive, often mimicking our captors in ways that would please them. It didn’t make it any less nausea-inducing.
“Don’t start that shit with me, Holly, you know I don’t play those games.”
Without missing a beat, Holly batted her lashes at me and grinned. “I’m getting good, right?”
She was pretty - but then we all were. The Society didn’t make a habit of keeping ugly fuckers around. Hell - they even bred their own kids to be supermodel beautiful, so unless you had a rare skill set theyneeded, you wouldn’t be around long. Sometimes I wondered if that alternative wasn’t better - if we were all just fooling ourselves,thinking that there was a way out of here other than death.
Holly - with her dark hair, blue eyes, andcurves. She stared at me waiting for my reply.
“Fuck, here.” I shoved the bottle back into her hands. I felt like a goddamn teenager sneaking off to the bleachers to drink our stolen scotch. It wasemasculating- stifling - suffocating. It wasn’t how a grown man was meant to live. I was supposed to be sowing my wild oats, hitting up girls in a bar, starting businesses, hustling the sidewalks, creating a life for myself outside of this goddamncompound- awayfrom them.
And, yet, I wouldn’t do a damn thing differently - not when it would put Gemma at risk. So, Istayed- I played their fucking game, even when I knew it would ultimately mean my death.
But you do what you have to for the ones you love, right?
Holly leaned her pert little butt against the wall, settling in next to me.
“What do you expect from the new herd?” She asked the question between sips. I watched her guzzle the liquid down, only I wasn’t judging, Holly had as many demons as I did.
I gritted my jaw as Imulledover her question, the expensive Scotch doing nothing for my system. What did I expect? I expected more of the same - more vapidness - more partying - more disregard for money and privilege - more pairings for their little breeding experiment.
I told Holly as much, and the girl beside me snorted. “Don’t sound so jaded, O’ Grady, it’s not like you’re not tapping that Society puss on the daily.”
It was my turn to grin - to shrug. “So, new meat then?” Holly laughed at my explanation, and just like I had offered no judgment when it came to her and her demons, she offered me the same. I didn’t fuck with Society servants, but that didn’t mean Ihadn’t dabbled in Society girls. Of course, I was careful about it - I made sure not to knock any of them up, and I definitely didn’t interfere with their breeding plans, but that didn’t mean a little fun couldn’t be had by all.
I wondered what this lot would hold - more model look-alikes that would be aghast at what The Society expected them to do but did it anyway. It seemed that no cost was too high to keep their silver plattered lifestyle rolling on.
We remained like that in silence - allowing the weight of our situation to stretch between us. That silence grew heavy - pregnant with all the things we had been through - all the things we couldn't say. I could have been a better man, a better friend, and allowedHolly to unburden herself - to share her life story, but, instead, I stood there with my back pressed against the wall, content to wallow in the silence as it thickened around us. I didn’t want to hear Holly’s life story - not when it meant I’d feel something for her - feelresponsiblefor her in some way. And I didn’t have time to care for anyone other than myself - because caring about myself meant that I was looking after Gemma, and that was all I could do at this point.
Holly shifted against the wall, and if it was anyone else, I would have taken it as a cue to break the silence - to fill it with babbling small talk and throwaway flirtations, but she wasn’t like that - she and I were similar enough to not shy away from the weight of it all.
