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I love all of them, even when they are annoying and cruel.
“Are you asking me to move in?” He raises a perfectly curved brow. “You know I’m your mom’s favorite.” I shove him out of my way but his hand catches mine before I can take another step. “How’s your hangover? Remember anything from Friday night?” The lump in my throat grows as I try to swallow everything I’ve fought hard to forget.
Only I am sure that one day, it is going to choke me.
I fold my arms in front of myself, ignoring the way my cheeks burn. Well, I am doing terrible at this. “No. Nothing important anyway. Why?”
His eyes narrow. I know what he’s asking me. It’s obvious, but aside from him being a complete asshole for mentioning it, I am not surprised. “Really?”
I shrug, stepping backward to go back to the kitchen. I need to see my mom. I just… need her. And anyway, not that we have a no-partying rule in the house, but I did come home drunk enough for her to stay up all night to watch me sleep. They left for a forty-eight-hour trip to Europe the next morning, so I didn’t get a chance to see her after.
“Halen?” War calls out, and I pause my steps but don’t turn. “What will you do without us at college?”
“Oh God, I don’t know, War.” I turn and start walking backward. “Whatever we want?”
As soon as he’s gone, my face falls. Mom reaches into the oven, dropping a baking tray on top of the stove and tossing the dishcloth on the counter. “Fuck. Maybe I’m not a baker.”
“Correct!” A plastic smile melts onto my face. I vow to never remove it. “But it’s okay, because dad is.”
I stare at the patterns on the walls as I wait. Satin black paint is licked over the ceilings and walls, and a single chandelier spirals down the center of the room before blooming into a rayof crystals. I’ve never been in the Cave before. It was always for EKC meetings. This was my norm. I knew my dad wasn’t a good man.
I knew my uncles weren’t either.
Hell, I wouldn’t even cross Tillie, War’s mom. I’d heard stories about her too. But being in here feels different. Like all the stories I had heard over the years weren’t only true, because I knew they were, but that they felt… right. Justified.
Dad makes his way to me, leaning back against the table while fisting the edge. It’s just us in here for now, but I know that isn’t going to be for long. For one, he called this meeting.
“Baby girl…” His hand rests on my cheek and I exhale a nervous breath. I love my dad. He is the rock of not just our family, but the order as a whole. People look up to him, worship him. I’m worried about what that means for Priest once he takes the gavel, and they shift that power that to him. What will he do with it? He’s sensible and will always make the right choices for the EKC, but my brother is soulless. What happens when he has to make the hard choices and other lives are on the line?
Jesus.
I knew what our family meant and the covenant behind it. I knew that Dad was, in short, an underground god. He made the rules and everyone followed.
Every. Single. Person.
We didn’t need to call it a mafia because it wasn’t. We were the order of the Elite Kings Club and that in itself held more weight than any other term you’d find in the dictionary underbad motherfuckers. Our history is pure. Our lineage unwavering. We never procreated with anyone outside of our world, but even if we did, they had a connection to it.
“Look at me.”
Dad startles me out of my reverie, and my eyes travel up his black suit, past the tattoos on his chest, and continue until I meethis gaze. He’d always kept his beard short, but recently he’s been growing it out longer. Thicker. It only makes him look scarier.
He touches the side of my head, brushing my hair behind my ear. "War is going to give you shit about this. Maybe even your brother.”
“I don’t care.” I blink past his words. “I deserve to be here. We deserve to be here.”
“You do. You all do.” He nods, smiling just enough for the wrinkle lines around his eyes to deepen. Evie goes on and on about the dads and how hot they are. I’ve had to stop myself from slapping her on more than one occasion. People have spread ridiculous rumors about her and Priest, but really, the truth is that we can’t trust her around our dads. She’s not interested in our brothers. “They don’t know about you girls training. We need to keep it that way for now. I don’t want to bombard your brother with too much too fast. Save it for after the ritual.”
“It’s not so much Priest than it is War…” I roll my eyes and relax into the chair. “He’s got this weird complex about us being around because of River.”
Dad raises a brow.
“What?” I scowl. He’s always doing this. Open sentences and cryptic comments. I don’t know how Mom tolerates it.
“You think that’s why War is the way he is?”
Dad pushes off the table and saunters his way to the front.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask as he continues to pour a finger of whiskey into an empty glass.
