by Elena Monroe
Turning around, I choked on the tears now coating my cheeks, running down my chin and into my shirt. My chest was collecting the tears, and I realized the last time I cried like this was years ago. I hadn't let myself be weak in so long I forgot what crying felt like.
"Grams..." My voice cracked, and she scooped me into her strong arms, hugging me like nothing was wrong at all.
Everything was wrong.
Everything was on the brink of change.
Grams didn’t let go until my breath became more steady and never went too far away. Buzzing around the kitchen the way she always did, she found some brownies with sprinkles on top the way I liked them. I used to tell her regular brownies were boring, ordinary, and I deserved to be only eating extraordinary things. That’s how brownies with sprinkles were created right here in this kitchen.
“I have everything ready to go. All the numbers, all the plans, everything you’ll need to do for me. It’ll be easy.” She uncapped the glass Tupperware, and the brownie smell instantly warmed my insides.
“You think I care, because I won’t know what to do?” I knew that wasn’t true.
Grams knew me best. I was going to push until I had enough room to feel safe, to feel this pain, only when I had pushed everyone away.
Grabbing my hands, she leaned into the island. “No, sweetie. I know you best.”
I wanted to ask so many questions. I wanted to know how long she’d been sick, how long we had, if she knew she mattered more than this revenge, and to tell her I loved her when I always let it just be an obvious truth. We never said it out loud; we just knew.
Somehow the only question that fell out of my mouth was, “I can’t forgive him. How could you forgive him?”
“You need to decide if holding a grudge is more important than how much you love him.”
All of my senses heightened at the words that I had let be my other obvious truth, how much I love him.
“Grams! I don’t love him…” I said it with so much disgust I could almost believe myself.
Watching her pad across the kitchen, she grabbed two shot glasses and a bottle of scotch. “Oh, honey. Shotgun for a mouth, always scrapping, but you sure do lie terribly.”
She filled the shot glasses to the brim and tossed hers back. “Don’t look at me like that. I deserve a drink.”
“I can’t love a man who killed my parents. I hate myself for falling for him. I’ve been doing fine so far without using my heart.” I shot back the liquor and kept my eyes down. I knew it was my tell—a lack of eye contact and suddenly my voice doesn’t have the same sharpness willing to throw knives.
“This may come as a shock to a warrior like yourself, but every general has an army. He’s drafted himself in, Jus.” Smoothing down my hair and pressing her lips into my temple, she squeezed my arm. “Forgive him, just as I forgive all of your bad decisions. And like I know you’ll forgive me one day for lying to you. All of our bad decisions shape us. Without them, you wouldn’t be you, and he wouldn’t be perfect for you. Unconditional love can exist outside the ones you’ve lost.”
Leaving me in the kitchen, I heard the stairs creak as she climbed them slowly. Fishing my phone out of my hoodie pocket, I scrolled through his messages, every single one that came through multiple times a day, just to make sure that I saw him trying.
He was never going to give up.
I was never going to stop loving that.
Deciding I would text him tomorrow after resting on how I felt, I followed suit, heading upstairs. Grabbing my duffle, I jogged up the stairs, stopping to look down the hall at my Grams’s room before slipping quietly into mine.
Opening my duffle, I saw all of my supplies that were trying to climb out of the zipper: gloves, ropes, my pink blow torch that Vic had given me, and everything else that I thought revenge required.
It didn’t require anything—just you and bad intent.
I was a fraud. I honored peace and justice, but wasn’t seeing how they fit together.
Justice before peace.
VIC
I woke up in my old room with the kind of dry mouth I thought was a myth after you rode the high of a drug that stole most of the hours in the day. Sliding my phone off of the nightstand, I automatically dialed Grams, like I did most mornings.
It rang five times before someone picked up but didn’t speak. “Grams?”
“She’s dead.” I heard the familiar voice of Justice sound flatter than I had ever heard it before. Her voice was scratchy and dry, the same way mine had been from crying.
I called Justice more times than I could remember in the next few moments. Until my finger felt rubbed raw, and I felt so numb that I didn’t even feel the pain from when she broke my heart clean down the middle.
Justice had no one else. She had no one left because of me. I may have not killed her Grams, but I sped up it by creating a vigilante.
I didn’t let myself feel the pain of losing a woman that I admired, who believed in me, the woman who didn’t judge my wins or losses—the one who told me to not take no for an answer when I make Justice mine.
I couldn’t feel that pain, because it wasn’t mine to feel; it was hers—another person she lost after I planted myself in her life.
Still shirtless, I looked through my old clothes from when I was a teenager when my dad breezed in. “None of that is going to fit you anymore, son.”
“I know. I have to go. Her Grams… she died. I need a suit… and my car.” I navigated the words with long pauses, just to get through saying them.
Walking in, he set a small pink box on top of the dresser, while I shuffled through my closet, gaining my attention. “This is the one you want, right? You have my blessing, Victory, but you need to do the blood oath as soon as possible. I’ll have someone drop off your car.”
Twisting towards the box, I opened it carefully to see the ethically sourced pink diamond I had chosen in an antique setting that looked a lot like the commitment that I wanted more than anything. “How did you… you…?” I couldn’t even say the words.
He sat down on the trunk at the foot of my old bed. “We all keep souvenirs from the Hunt. That is her mother’s ring setting with the diamond you chose. I may have stopped taking the Clave’s money, but I’m not broke. Consider it back pay for all the doubt I made you think I had for you.”
“Just doubt? Try doubt, hatred, disbelief, dishonor…” Closing the box, I held it tightly in my fist.
“Don’t be a smart ass. I’m not going to hide the fact that I doubted you could change, but you were never a lost cause.” Looking down at his phone, he continued, “Your car will be here in 15. She’s going to need you.”
Putting on a suit felt like putting on armor that was going to make it easier to be the pillar of strength that she was going to need. This suit being my father’s somehow made the armor seem heavier, impenetrable. Tucking the ring box in the breast pocket, I headed down the stairs of their still semi-empty house, but now it all made sense.
He was putting distance between his new life and his old one, the same way I had been in Justice’s absence.
I was more of a mirror for my dad than I ever noticed, and now I was seeing his life in a completely different way. He was happy, and I was never a threat to that happiness. I was just the last piece unwilling to fit.
Standing in the driveway, I saw my Porsche pulling up with a stranger behind the wheel. That’s how the Clave was built—on the bodies of nameless people willing to do our dirty work.
I knew Grams wasn’t going to have a funeral right away. It takes time, and I was only sleeping off the LSD for a day. Finally checking my phone for other notifications, I saw the onslaught of texts, calls, and even photos (only from Khaos) that went unanswered.
The stranger left the door open and made his way down the long driveway, just before the change in my personality wondered if he needed a lift. It would give me time to think, plan, strategize, and call her another twenty times so I knew what I would be w
alking into.
“Hey, you need a ride?” I shouted his way and tilted my head towards my car, gesturing for him to hop in.
He looked terrified of me when he turned around, and something in me wondered if the mask I was so used to wearing had a meaning I never meant it to.
“It’s the least I can do. You drove my car all the way here after all.” Shrugging, I tapped the hood before slipping inside against the leather.
A few moments later, my car roared under my feet, and the door pulled open for him to climb in. I left the silence in the air before I tossed my phone in his lap.
“I’ll drive; you read. Start with Grimm. He’ll be the most level headed.”
GRIMM: Alive?
GRIMM: If she wanted to be with you, she would be. Grieve and move on.
GRIMM: If you do anything stupid, I’ll have to answer for it. Abigail is tough.
KHAOS: (photo of an empty bed)
KHAOS: (photo of a joint)
KHAOS: (photo of the skit he shouldn’t be photographing)
BOWEN: Heard you left the Grove.
Still timid and scared, he paused between messages. He wanted permission for every breath, and I was refusing to be that gatekeeper. Finally asking him where I was going, he pointed me in the direction of the valley, and I obliged.
After dropping him off, I got on the highway and headed towards Justice.
Fiddling with my phone, I had to text Khaos for his hacker ways for Grams’s address. There was no information off limits for him.
The drive was long enough to build enough courage when I pulled up to a perfectly normal, happy home. Goes to show you not to judge anything from the outside. I knew all too well there wasn’t any happiness inside right now.
I patted down my jacket, checking for my ring box, pushing my door open, and then making my way to the front door. Rubbing my palms together, they felt sticky with anticipation, and this fear that I was just someone she used to know—no matter how much our lives still ran along the same trajectory.
My loose fist knocked against the door, and I waited patiently for someone to answer, when it finally did, it felt like a gut punch to have the door swing open revealing her.
She stood there in an oversized sweater, eyes red, and a kind of soft I had never seen from her. Silently she stood there waiting, but I wasn’t sure for what exactly.
“Jus, I’m so sorry for your loss. Can I come-”
“No,” was all she said, before slamming the door in my face effortlessly.
Standing there, still shocked for longer than my ego could take, I finally knocked again, taking Grams advice as the authority.
Don’t take no for an answer.
I steeled my spine, with my hand pushed against the door framing, waiting less patiently now. The door swung open again, and she reappeared like I willed her to.
“Grams wanted me here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her eyes were dead, and her features all flat, not one ounce of the sass I was used to. All of that changed instantly. “You didn’t know her. You didn’t lose anyone. Fuck off.”
She slammed the door again, and I took it at face value. Leave her alone, at least for right now. She wasn’t ready to hear me, and I wasn’t taking no for an answer.
Even this pathetic version of one where we slam doors.
Heading back to my car, I shrugged my jacket off and folded it carefully, putting it on the passenger seat when I texted the boys my plans after ignoring their messages.
ME: I’m asking Justice to marry me. My dad suggested a blood oath… guess they still don’t know we’re pros.
GRIMM: She’s not going to wanna see you or text you, so you thought marriage was a good idea?
KHAOS: It’s blood in or fucked in. Gang rules. I’ll get my camera ready.
BOWEN: I don’t know how hard it is just to marry whoever and follow the rules.
ME: No filming. She just lost her Grams.
DAD: How did it go? I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. I have your blood oath.
ME: What do you mean by have it?
DAD: I have my ways. All four of us. Soon as possible Victory.
I planned to sleep in my car in her driveway when she slammed the door, but now I had no choice but to go back to LA for the blood oath.
Grimm was right. She didn’t want anything to do with me, and here I was collecting ways to keep her.
I texted her once more, telling her I would be back, just so she knew I wasn’t giving up, before I climbed back into my car.
Armor or no armor.
Mask or no mask.
Even seeing her for the glimpse that I did was worth it.
Stopping at my dad’s for the oath in a vile that made me feel like some lovesick vampire from the movies, I tucked it in my pocket right beside the ring box for safe keeping.
When I got back in my car, I didn’t know where else to go, but to the only piece of Justice I still had in my grasp: Abigail.
Grimm answered the door, shirtless in his usual sweats, looking particularly pissed I showed up here of all places. “What are you doing here?”
Pushing past him, “I’m here for Abigail, not you.”
Shouting her name, she descended the stairs like a princess with her full belly pushing through a t-shirt that landed mid-thigh. She looked perfectly undone and kept.
“Vic? What’s wrong?” she asked, already knowing with just one look. That was her weapon: reading a damn room with so much precision it was scary.
“She didn’t want to see me. Oath and ring are securely unused.” Sitting down on a bar stool, I started unbuttoning my shirt and carefully pulling the sleeve over the bandages still covering my arm.
She came closer, but Grimm stood between us, like a bad bodyguard, pushing his sweats down to give to her. My eyebrows jumped up my face, and she put them on without any argument.
I couldn’t blame him. If Justice let me, I would lock her away, protecting her from everything, especially loss.
Ripping the bandages, I saw the cuts that had turned white, like it didn’t heal right. I don’t think cuts emulating being struck by lightning are supposed to heal right though.
The white popped on my tan skin as my new badge of honor. An honor was exactly what it was to protect her.
Abigail looked at the cuts, still puffy and irritated, when she brought over a wet cloth. Sitting next to me she dabbed me clean. “You know how she is. She’s not just going to say yes. She didn’t even ask anyone to the funeral; it’s completely closed. Just her, can you imagine?”
My eyes shot to Abigail wrapping my arm, realizing this wasn’t just her being difficult and independent. She was pushing the world away until she knew how to live in it again.
I must have fallen asleep on their couch, because when I woke up, it was already a little after noon and it was a long drive back to Justice. Scrambling to sit up and scrub the sleep from my eyes, I grabbed my button up, pushing my arms into each sleeve, leaving it open in my rush to leave.
Walking through the kitchen, I grabbed a piece of toast off of Abigail’s plate and pushed my lips to her temple as I said goodbye.
“Good luck!” she shouted towards me as I hurried out.
Taking the same path I had yesterday seemed slightly quicker, but when it came to finding the cemetery, it took me a little longer.
All of the side streets looked the same, with the same archetype of houses and happy families.
It wasn’t hard to find the funeral when the clouds rolled in and I spotted the circus surrounding a silhouette in all black, standing alone. My chest got heavy immediately when I saw the casket, death in the way no one liked. I preferred being on the other end of death.
Finding the entrance to the cemetery, I parked a considerable distance away from the gravesite and Justice, giving her enough room to see me coming.
I felt my stomach drop, my heart squeeze, and every muscle in me tense with every step.
All the ways I
didn’t want to feel loss were running rampant in my system, holding my sight hostage, and everything blurred ever so slightly.
If Justice noticed me, she didn’t make any moves to make it obvious. Only a few more steps to go until I was at her side, I straightened my suit jacket and felt the sprinkle of raindrops stain my shoulders as Jus opened her umbrella above her head.
With a deep exhale, I stood next to her, my hand grazing her lower back, hovering. I wanted her to know I was here, but giving her space all at the same time. It was a think piece to say the least.
“Justice…” my ability to string words together ceased as I watched tears trail down her cheeks, while the sky imitated her emotions.
That’s how she was: infectious, with too much life to not take part in how she felt. You were invested before you knew it when it came to Justice.
Ignoring me, eyes focused on the men getting ready to lower the casket, and her strained voice crawled its way up her throat. “Stop. Wait…”
The whole world stopped to hear her words. The men simply stood there, waiting for directions that weren’t coming, when her lips trembled and her fingertips tried to still the shaking. Letting my hand press into her back, the rain came down even harder as I braved the weather walking towards them. Taking out my wallet, I found some hundred dollar bills and told them to get lost in a low voice.
Money talks, no one questioned me, and I liked it that way. Slipping my wallet back into my breast pocket on the other side of the ways I was going to keep mine, I took my jacket off and placed it over her small shoulders.
Not shrugging it off, I took it as a start to our negotiations.
Standing over Grams, I plucked a single white rose from the flowers sitting next to the open grave, her photo in the center and the roses decorating it like a frame, to throw on top of the casket that I was about to lower down.
Finding her eyes, Justice was trembling, breaking, busting at every seam, and overgrowing her armor.
Pressing my dress shoe down onto the paddle, I watched the casket lower six feet deep. I couldn’t bring myself to look up at Jus while her Grams vanished out of sight; everything about seeing her hurting already obliterated the rest of my already broken heart.