by Elena Monroe
If I was honest, I wasn’t sure what I deserved. I was never the definition of a good person, but if I was building a resume, I would twist my negatives into positives. Hard worker, persistent, and a real go-getter, but with Justice, all those questionable qualities aimed at a better cause than the Clave: to be a model citizen.
It’s all about context, not where you have been or even where you are now, but the context you build around your actions.
A gentleman in a vest, button down, and dress pants was passing out velvet bags to everyone in the lot. His attire made me even more uncomfortable being in Grimm’s clothes when he stopped at us. “Messieurs, phones and valuables in the bags, and attach your tickets please.”
Khaos and I took the small black bags without an issue, knowing the drill. Grimm wasn’t as pliable, and his Glock made an appearance a mere few inches from the guy’s temple in a silent version of a hard pass. Grimm wasn’t going to not have a string leading to Abigail, and if this guy pushed him, Grimm would have no problem pulling the trigger.
Holding his keys up to the eye level between him and the perfectly poised gentleman waiting to collect our personal items, his fingers let them go, dropping them to the ground. The keys were all he’d be getting from Grimm. He walked away, pushing his Glock into the back of his sweats under his hoodie.
All of the van doors opened with duplicate men standing near each one, awaiting us to climb inside. Grimm was the first to climb in and fall to the back, taking up the entire back seat, while I walked away from Bowen, who was clearly not joining us. Eve, his childhood friend, was in town, ready to be wooed by him before the wedding.
Gracious of them, huh? Letting the arranged marriage thing not be as awkward as it could be.
Slumping down into the seat, the door closed, and the vans moved down the dirt road into the dark path full of redwoods. Khaos was eating Starbursts and rolling a joint, while Grimm’s arm was thrown over his eyes, trying to block us out.
Turning to Khaos, I asked him, “When is it supposed to kick in?”
Grimm shouted from the back, “Do you think I’m laying down to take a nap? It’s already kicked in, so sit the fuck down correctly. Don’t ruin my high.”
Looking down at how I was sitting, with my Converse digging into the seat, I was squatting in a weird position that I didn’t realize I was in. Fixing myself, I planted my ass down correctly and felt myself get further and further away from the tether connecting me to her.
Without my phone, I felt like the last piece of her was ripped from my grasp, and it gave me a kind of discomfort I hated.
“You need to forget her, man. Just relax and get some space…” Khaos’s voice was gliding through the air as his mouth licked the joint wrapper closed.
“You’re allergic to commitment. You don’t get an opinion,” I spat out in his direction, now nervous I was going to have to put my Clave ready mask on, which was still shattered and unwearable.
“I’m committed to all twenty-something of them, until it doesn’t work. I don’t try to fix what’s already broken; I replace it.”
The ride into the woods had to have been an hour at least, and when the van stopped, I was the first one out with my feet on the ground. Looking around at the men getting out of the other vans, I still felt out of place. I may have found myself, but that made suddenly being dropped into a life you don’t feel connected with anymore a lot harder. I was forced back into my old life, but as a new person—no mask, nothing left to win of value, and utterly fucked by being this high.
“Just be cool…” Grimm’s hand slapped my back, and I swallowed down my pride to be mediocre. That was the only way to blend in here: Be average, not great.
My father walked right up to me, looking at the bandage around my arm and my odd choice in clothing. “What a fucking embarrassment. Get yourself together. Your luggage is in the cabin.”
Taking in a deep breath, I kept my head down and stole one of the golf carts to head up the mountain to our cabin. It was the same every year, all the Horsemen stayed together, dreading every minute of being stranded out here.
This time is only worse; I’m not the Vic these people know anymore.
The quiet of the rustic cabin was pounding against my head, and I wasn’t sure it was connected anymore at all. Somehow I knew the silence was the enemy, if I was in this alone too much longer. The high was kicking into full gear, and I decided to offset it by changing into my suit that had been packed carefully in my suitcase as I tried to fasten the mask back to my features.
Even if I wasn’t that person anymore, there was still this sense of falling in line that I couldn’t break, routine that I couldn’t ignore, and part of me cheered on not being the real version of myself right now, because that shit was too painful.
Vic the Dick was painless.
Vic the Dick was a rule follower.
Vic the Dick wants the stamp of approval.
The new me can sit this one out. Vicy the Hippie wasn’t born for this kind of behavior.
Buttoning my shirt up, I caught a glimpse in the mirror, all armored up, ready to take the hits I was certainly going to have coming my way. I tugged the suit jacket onto my shoulders, wincing through the pain of the wounds covering my arm.
“Didn’t take long for you to snap back into that persona,” Grimm scoffed, throwing himself on his bed. The only one with black covers and sheets, he got whatever he wanted and didn’t conform one ounce.
Grimm has always been my biggest naysayer. He’s always resented me for being the one to fall in line and being the person he’s unwilling to be.
He worked in absolutes, and right now he had seen too many of my masks.
“I have work to do, Reaper. Not all of us have the luxury of being ourselves all the time…” Walking away, I made sure I was living up to the standards outside of this room.
“Maybe if you knew who you were to begin with, it wouldn’t be so hard to abandon the fake bullshit.”
Letting the spring door close with a slam, I saw Khaos waiting in the golf cart for me to ride down to the altar, where we would be rubbing elbows and greeting the new members before dinner. Normally Bowen was the heartbeat of the Grove. His job revolved around blackmail, and this was the one event of the year that solely supported getting enough of it to have you by the balls for life.
Khaos practically jumped off the cart before I could even park, and I took a deep inhale, forcing who I was to stop fighting this decision. I stood up and started making my way to one of our former presidents of the United States to welcome him. I reached out to shake his hand and was distracted when it started turning 3D colors, blurring at the edges, like he was suddenly out of the Stranger Things era.
Fuck me. I am too high for this shit.
“Vic, how are you? What do you boys have in store for us tonight?”
The heat trapped in my suit was making it hard to breathe. My body took over, reacting, instead of trying to make sense of anything. Grabbing his tie by the knot, I yanked him closer to me. “Looking good, Mr. President…”
Messing up his hair, I turned on my heel and knew the real me was winning tonight, no matter who I decided to be.
I had spent my whole life being what people wanted, and now my Justice-shaped personality was fighting back.
Khaos jumped over the thick logs lining a path to the drop off the vans and threw his arm around me, shouting, “Whoa, whoa! You still feel sick, man?” Under his breath, he mumbled, “Dude. Get it together.”
Shrugging him off of me and pushing him away, I shouted back, “No, I’m not going to get it together! This is who I fucking am now. I’m done being everyone’s dancing monkey. The Vic you all knew is dead, may he rest in peace. He’s never showing his face again.” Ripping off the suit jacket and disposing of it on the dirty ground, I left it there, heading to the dinner tables.
I felt like I was walking into a battle I knew I would lose. Morale was really low, and my armor was practically falling off now. I wa
s going to be myself for once, and it was going to get me killed.
Each one of the four families headed separate tables, all hosting different members of the Clave. Looking at the place settings, I found Rockefeller in cursive and picked a seat, after doing Duck, Duck, Goose with the empty chairs.
Whatever drug Khaos had us swallow down felt like liberation—an invigorating dose of liberation.
VIC
The dinner tables were filled with musicians, actors, political players, arms dealers, inventors, and anyone else that the Clave saw as beneficial to have in their back pocket. Most of these people were here out of obligation, just like me, except they all had blackmail holding them captive.
The sacrifices.
The trafficked girls.
The drugs.
The orgies.
The proof you were here and all we needed to get our way outside of these woods.
I didn’t even realize my eyes were closed until two hands clapped in front of my face, and my whole body jumped up in surprise. “Open your damn eyes,” the words roared into my face from across the table.
Were my eyes closed? How long were they closed?
Peeling them open, I saw the table full and my father seething across from me. Sitting back comfortably, I couldn’t find one part of me that cared through all of dinner. I felt the most in control I had ever felt not contributing, not bragging, not having to be the best one in the room.
The pussy power Justice rubbed in my face… this was it: control.
Dinner flew by in a breeze, and then Khaos’s dad announced that we would all be moving to the auditorium, which was really just logs and a stage—nothing fancy.
Rolling my eyes, I got up, not prepared to see some sacrifices this high. Every night we were here, there was a sacrifice honoring the higher power.
I was high, and I felt powerful for once.
All of us stood at the back, not picking seats and putting enough distance between us and the stage to feel more comfortable.
Khaos grabbed my face, taking me off guard. “I like this version better, bro.” Letting his fingers loosen, he stood back in line. “We have other plans, boys. I’ll meet you guys back at the cabin. I’ve watched enough chicks get sacrificed.”
Khaos took off on one of the only trails, and I was curiously ready for anything, but my body stood planted where I was as they dragged a young girl to the stage. She would have screamed, but she had tape firmly over her mouth and her hands were restrained as she still fought in their grip. The skits would purposely take place right after this, over her body and her blood, like she didn’t matter much at all.
I was high enough to hear her pleas in my head.
I turned away, just as they held her hair back, forcing her neck on display and then slitting her throat.
Twisting the key to start up the golf cart, Grimm slapped my shoulder with the back of his hand. “Move. I have a baby on the way. I don’t plan to die in these woods.”
“You didn’t take the pill, did you?” I slid over to the passenger seat, letting Grimm drive, wondering how he was functioning so well.
“I take pills every day. One isn’t going to do the trick and break all of my mannerisms that make me who I am. That only works for people who aren’t comfortable with themselves.”
Everything he said was an insult.
I was uncomfortable housing this many versions of myself, and it was showing on the outside. I never let anything show on the outside, but I was maskless now and free.
Khaos was nowhere in sight as I flopped on my back on the hard, twin-sized bed, waiting for the plans we didn’t make. I looked around the dim room, trying to focus, but everything was cartoonified now—colorful and animated.
“I brought a treat…” The door pushed open, and in walked a beautiful woman with dark features and legs that I swore kept growing as she stood there.
I had been avoiding beautiful women. Being celibate for a woman who refuses to respond to all your daily texts is hard, and I’m not strong enough to ignore my dick’s needs right now.
Too conditioned to give into every indulgence, I wasn’t built to punish myself physically.
Only emotionally.
I was still cataloging my text routine that I had missed the few days I was out after getting cut up. Morning text, lunch text, dinner text… and for good measure, I was even sending nudes, hoping she wasn’t good at punishing herself physically either.
Nothing elicited a response. I had the texts to prove it. Too many blue bubbles and no gray to break it up.
Looking at the model hanging off of Khaos, I felt my crotch swell and the anger push me into a corner. I wanted to bury the memories of being between Justice’s legs, and what better place to do that than a sinful event in the woods?
“This is Claudia. She’s here to entertain us.” Khaos had her twirl, showing her off, proving her perfection that I wasn’t questioning.
Her lips were pillows and an expert's best tool when sucking dick.
Standing up, I undid my belt, making it easier to pull my dress shirt up and start undoing each small button.
“Come here,” I urged her, patting the bed to my right. She was too compliant and made my terrorizing personality flare up, trying to get any kind of push back—the way Justice would have served it to me.
Crawling on her hands and knees, I watched her reach for my crotch, and I clamped my hand down over hers, stopping her. “You have to earn that.”
Smiling up at me, she was still ready to go with the flow when Khaos’s hand slapped her ass in the air. “He’s a special kind of asshole. He likes to be worshipped.”
Wrong.
I liked to be put in my place.
I liked to work for it.
I liked an attitude.
I liked being just as selfish as the person I’m with, making it a battle to ecstasy.
“What do you want?” She looked up at me as I shrugged my shirt off, letting it fall, while unzipping my pants.
She wasn’t Justice, but that was going to have to be enough if I planned to ever live a normal life.
What else was I going to do? Text her for eternity and be ignored?
I wanted to prove to myself I didn’t need her.
I wanted to prove to myself that she didn’t fit anywhere in my life.
I wanted to prove that no part of me belonged to her and her fucking pink hair.
The girl pawing at my pants wasn’t Jus at all, but she was going to be another trophy I won in proving I never lose.
New personality be damned, the taste of winning is universal.
“Fuckkk… Claudia,” Khaos was vocal, too vocal for me to block out, while her mouth found my dick. His dick must have found the power of her pussy.
Grimm stood up, putting the phone to his ear. “I’m out. You guys enjoy the threesome.” I could hear the melody of Abigail’s concerned voice come through the speaker.
Turning my attention back to Claudia, I grabbed a fist full of her hair. I pushed myself down her throat, forcing her to choke and gag, but I didn’t care. As long as she didn’t have pink hair and an attitude problem, I wasn’t worried.
I could push my way through an orgasm and not hear commentary about it.
Only in my head.
Jus wouldn’t let me fuck her mouth like this—too much pride. That’s why I loved her. She held me by the balls and made sure I was aware of her presence. She wanted everything equal in pleasure and acted as the consent police.
Claudia, on the other hand, had no pride, no morals, and no sense of standards, while letting Khaos fuck her from behind, only driving her mouth further down onto me.
She was everything Jus protested against. She had zero power here; there was no meeting in the middle to make us equal.
I didn’t even care that Khaos was no more than a few feet away from me, chasing the same end game. As Horsemen, we shared everything—secrets, lies, goals… This wasn’t even making the top ten of shit we shared; this w
as child’s play.
Just thinking of our adolescence: Grimm almost raped a girl; Khaos fucked his way to good grades; and Bo drank himself to death most days. That’s not even counting the death between us all.
Sharing a girl was like picking up the coffee tab.
Claudia was just a warm body, and enough friction would set me on fire the way I wanted.
Her eyes watered, and something changed in her face. For a split second, I saw Justice instead. Rubbing my eyes, I shook her from my vision to see her dark hair and green eyes.
Forcing her to look at me the best she could while on all fours with Khaos still pounding away in some messy rhythm. “You’re nothing special, are you?”
Clutching her hair tighter in my hand, I was pulling too hard, and I saw her eyes get even more glassy.
Watching Khaos’s hips drive into her ass, I watched his open mouth go silent, and his eyes clamp down. Reaching out my fingers, I found his nipple and pinched lightly.
“What the fuck!” His eyes flew open at me.
“Don’t ever get lost in that pussy. It’s dangerous shit,” I tossed his way, watching his thrusts become viciously rough.
I wasn’t even sure if I was about to come. Feeling that tightness in my stomach muscles, I held her lips brushing my skin with all of me in her mouth giving her the smallest heads up.
“Swallow.”
It was the only warning she was going to get from me. Holding her head to my crotch, I watched her closely as my dick jerked against her tongue and tried to juggle my width, while I emptied myself.
If it mattered, I gave her a silver star in my head. It wasn’t terrible. It just wasn’t pink, putting me in my place, and demanding I treat her with respect. That shit would have gotten her first place.
Yanking her hair back, she removed her mouth from my now flaccid dick. When the medals were handed out, I didn’t need her tongue dragging along my sensitive tip anymore.
“Damn, bro…” Khaos was the only sound in the room as I fell back onto my bed, tucking myself back in my pants.