by Elena Monroe
I was still standing, uninvited to sit yet, and I knew better than to purposely piss him off before I gave him the bad news.
“He’s interested. I can keep him on the hook.”
Dove stopped scooping his grapefruit out with the tiny spoon as he stared at me like someone just dumped trash in front of him. “See, I already know that. Who wouldn’t be interested in you when you actually try to look feminine? I asked you to get information.”
There must have been residual Molly in my system when I felt myself sweat and the overwhelming feeling to hurl again. I was still wearing Khaos’s shirt with my shorts as I held the extra material in my fists trying to get a grip.
Hamilton excused his interruption when he handed me an envelope, most likely my weekly paycheck. Dove moved effortlessly as he snatched it out of my fingers that had barely grasped it.
“Paychecks are for those of us doing their jobs, Little Bird.”
“Are you kidding me? You don’t even pay me what I’m worth. I need that money.” I protested without even thinking it through before my mouth opened.
This distance would be considered blunt force trauma if I took a hit this close up.
The envelope fell to the glass table when he stepped into me even closer. “You smell like alcohol and sex. Didn’t lift a thing either. So fucking childish, aren’t you?”
Least he couldn’t tell I got high too.
I stiffened trying to hold my ground when I bit out, “One you ordered to do what it took so I did. Keep the check, his dick was worth it.”
That’s when I felt the pressure of his fist hit my face, the yellow dots appearing in my eye, and my flight or fight button clearly broken.
I felt my eye swell immediately, blurring my vision, but oddly not painful.
Maybe I finally hit the stage of the abuse that staves off the pain in some lackluster attempt at self-preservation.
Pushing myself back I shuffled on my ass to get out of his proximity when he grabbed the shirt I had on pulling me upward towards his face. I was so close I could feel his breath, “Next time don’t come back without something useful and if it’s going to be your mouth make sure you’re already on your knees, Little Bird.”
He left me sitting there on the warm concrete when my lip shook but no tears came. I hadn’t been able to cry since I was too young to appreciate it.
Making a fist, I drove it into my thigh trying to sting enough for tears to happen. Nothing was ever bad enough for tears.
I looked for the envelope on the tabletop hoping he left it behind but who was I kidding? It was Dove, forgetting anything wasn’t a possibility, not in this lifetime.
Sulking for long enough, I flew out the front door not sure where to go now except to my van… my hideaway from everyone.
Boarding with one eye closed was a new skill for the fake resume I was never going to need. My balance was off, my peripheral vision askew, and it took an hour to get back to my van when it should've taken thirty minutes.
Pouring into my van, I tried to sleep off the swelling with some Aspirin that wasn’t going to do anything.
Khaos wasn’t kidding… if my life wasn’t already depressing, I would probably blame this on the Suicidal Tuesday.
Everyday is a Suicidal Tuesday for me… except last night with him. That was doable.
A few hours later I woke up feeling my eye gingerly before I yanked out my phone flipping my camera to face me to see the damage.
Closed shut.
Already purple.
Still no pain.
I only trusted one person when shit got this bad- Justice. The justice warrior with connections to Vic, who was connected to Khaos somehow.
When I broke my ribs, my finger, when he crushed my windpipe and couldn’t speak for two weeks- she was always there for me. I could show up any time of day or night with no questions - just help.
If she wasn’t connected to Dove’s enemies, I might have considered opening up to her, trying the whole friends thing, or whatever.
Maybe in the next life when it’s actually my choice.
I didn’t even bother texting her, instead I climbed into the front seat and turned the key igniting the engine. Making my way to her new place, the upscale lofts in the heart of LA, I reluctantly let the valet on the curb park my van out of sight.
The doorman inside stopped me and I pulled the hoodie over my head to keep him from seeing my face. Waving him off to the elevators I pressed the P and fished out the spare key card Jus gave me in case of shit like this.
I don’t think her husband knew I had a way in all the time. He didn’t trust me and I could see it every time he watched our interactions.
Thinking of his face edged in anger almost had my knuckles pausing instead of knocking when the elevator doors opened to his black door keeping everyone out.
Knocking softly, I kept repeating please let Jus answer in my head while I waited for the door to open.
Thankfully, I saw the pink hair come into view when her face told me all I needed to about my eye. It was horrifying and I would be lucky to see out of it again.
Pulling me inside she looked around like she knew Vic would have an unsolicited opinion she was avoiding.
Sitting me on the couch she gave me the same speech she always did. It made me wonder if she ever got sick of it.
“If you just tell me who is hurting you, I can help. We can help. Vic knows people, powerful people, and Grimm - he might as well be death himself.”
I stayed silent staring at her hands grasping onto mine desperate for answers.
Finally, she whispered, “He can disappear from your life. For good if you just let me help you.”
Vic’s presence was hard to miss, he was the king of everything. “Help with what?”
He hadn’t seen my eye yet and when I slowly looked up, he walked over to me not asking again because it became obvious.
“Jesus. What the fuck happened to you?” His thumb on my chin he forced my face up for him to examine. “Your sack of shit boyfriend did this?”
Swallowing, I let everyone believe various stories about who Dove was to me: brother, stepdad, boyfriend.
Vic basically took over when he walked to the kitchen in the open floor plan looking for supplies. He returned with some ice and a soft smile that beat paying hundreds for a medical school dropout at a clinic.
Los Angeles was full of fakes and it just occurred to me Khaos was just fitting in.
“Babe, go get my med kit under the bed for the gunshot wounds,” he spoke to her while looking at me and followed her out of the room before he spoke again. “I can get into a lot of trouble for saying this… my last name, my job, all comes with get out of jail free cards. If he won’t leave you alone-”
“I can handle it,” cutting him off I gave them the same plain reply I always did.
Only Vic was the only one giving it right back to me, “Seems like it considering you can’t see out of one eye now.”
“It’ll heal like all wounds,” Jus came back with a medical kit that I took notice of.
Gunshot wound kits exist? Why did Vic need one?
KHAOS
It seemed cliche to think about how much slower the days seemed without Birdy in them. She had added a spice to my life after just a few encounters and I needed to see her again.
I regretted not asking for her number before I bolted from the Mercedes at the mere thought of Kennedy telling her all my secrets on the notion I looked at her differently.
Looking at someone differently wasn't enough.
Edging to the point I could have come on myself with her just looking at me wasn't enough.
I didn’t know what was enough to make me abandon my lifestyle and rules.
I was living on a clock until my arranged marriage and I guess when it ran out it didn’t matter what was enough. I would be forced into a corner without no choice but to accept it as it is, as enough.
Without Birdy to make laugh or smile I was irritable -
a kind of irritable that made me feel like a teenager again. I had been going to work and straight home without much motivation to party or even sit in on the orgies.
I was pushing my Pop-Tarts down into the toaster when Kennedy bumped into me, “Who grounded you? You’ve been a couch potato for a week.”
My face was in my hands while I watched it toast up, strawberry was the only acceptable flavor to be consuming. “I’m fine. Let’s just hit the road.”
Kennedy was testing my last nerve when she put her phone on speaker cutting me off with a loud ring tone. I knew the voice instantly when I heard the strong french accent: Coucou!
My mother, none other than Celeste DuPonte.
Turning towards Kennedy with my Pop-Tart bouncing from hand to hand to avoid getting burned, whisper shouting thinking my mom wouldn’t hear. “Are you fucking serious? I take some reflective time and you wanna call my mom.”
She ignored me leaning into the counter, “He hasn’t been himself at all. He met someone new and hasn’t seen her since. I’m thinking that’s the source of all the teen hitting puberty angst we’re living with right now.”
She was lucky we were alone in the kitchen; I didn’t need the whole house weighing in on this or panicking because I had a very minor crush on someone. I wasn’t trading in this lifestyle for a crush.
“Mon petit chou… I’ll be over to sage the entire house when I’m back, lovie. Who is this un amant?”
They continued to speak like I wasn’t even in the room when all the rage and boredom roared to my surface. Before I knew it I was throwing a toaster across the room while they discussed my new beautiful lover.
Kennedy snapped up, suddenly quiet, shocked that I had gotten violent when I have strong boundaries for myself. My mom couldn’t shut up though and I wanted to rip the phone from her hands just to end this.
So, that’s exactly what I did.
“You know what? I’m an adult AND I haven’t even fucking touched her so don’t get any ideas about lovers.”
My mom was a hippie who loved magic and whatever you dished out was just bad energy she could deflect with all her witchy ways. “Mon petit chou, un amant tomber amoureux de celui qu'ils ne choisissent pas. Are you having issues in the bedroom?”
Did my mother actually just tell me you don’t choose who you fall for then insult my dick? Seriously?!
I was all done speaking to my mother now. She crossed a line insulting my dick and heart in two languages as if one wasn’t bad enough. “Okay, mom. I have to go to work now. Thanks so much but Anarchy is doing great and I’m not falling for anyone.” Hanging up I yanked the door open and tossed her phone in the pool without a second thought.
Cupping myself through my jeans I took a second to make sure Anarchy was okay post conversation with my mom. I certainly wasn’t, so I couldn’t imagine my dick was feeling much better.
Kennedy ran outside with her arms out wide, “Are you serious?! Krosby!”
“Don’t fucking test me, Kennedy. Now drive me to fucking work before I really snap.” I was still cupping myself and still angry when I headed for her car.
The entire car ride was silent and I couldn’t help my eyebrows from slanting into my vision with anger. Even when she pulled up along the sidewalk, I didn’t even peck her lips the way I normally did as my token thanks for the lift. Instead, I stomped my way inside without my skateboard, just me and my rage.
The office was already buzzing, no doubt because of Vic and his controlling need to be productive even when he shits.
Walking by everyone without my winning smile I headed to my office in the back, opposite corner of Grimm’s, and slammed my door behind me. I wanted everyone to leave me alone long enough to figure out what I felt.
This week wasn’t enough.
Nothing ever was.
Ethan was the first person to interrupt my silence when he pushed the door open, “You okay? Need me to play chubby bunny?”
I was staring out the window but this time not to escape, no, this time I wanted an exit. Much different when you’re running from feelings or Vic- two different evils.
“No, just get out. If I had anything just cancel it.”
Ethan laughed like it was a wild request, “You don’t ever let me schedule appointments… are you sure you wanna be here?”
I shrugged, still staring, “Can you try to find someone for me?”
“Maybe. Clave has a pretty wide net to cast.”
“Birdy is all I know. She skates downtown and is friends with a kid named Ears.”
He left promptly without many questions, closing the door behind him when I finally felt a sliver of hope usher itself into my day.
If I could just find her… I tried all avenues I had to find her on my own and now I needed a second pair of eyes - visiting every skatepark I knew of, looking for Ears, and hacking my way like I do best in every possible way to search for someone. It was like they both dropped off the face of the planet and I was left with Anarchy in my hand.
Suicidal Tuesday was stretched into a whole week thanks to her.
I felt my heavy brows dip into my eyes, making me sleepy as I sat there silently like a kid with ADHD finally being put on meds, zoned out with no energy, not even enough to pay attention. Looking at the time, I had already spent an hour of my workday in one spot with one thought circling my mind, Birdy, when I got up to stretch my legs. I found myself in the kitchen in front of the open fridge when I reached in for some caffeine.
I didn’t even notice Vic sauntering into the kitchen when his bad mood clashed with mine.
“Just don’t Khaos. Don’t say shit,” his voice grumbled from behind me while I popped open a Red Bull.
“Did I do something to piss you off? Let me know, I wanna keep doing it. I wanna keep this energy going.” I wasn’t in the mood to be told how spoiled or how much of a brat I was being today.
Vic held his mini fucking esspresso cup with precision, creeping closer to me, “You’re lucky Jus likes you best. I would have killed you back at Patmos when I knew you’d be dead fucking weight. Thank god I did my yoga this morning, right?”
I would have backed up, but the counter was already imprinting my ass when his hand slapped down on my shoulder keeping me in place.
Fucking asshole.
Both our eyes were drawn to a commotion up front at the desk when a giant guy and one in a crisp suit that put Vic’s to shame appeared. We never had anyone in our office unannounced. The Clave was invite only and you only got one of those after we trusted you enough.
Hell, even fucking Donte was still pending an actually invite. He’s only allowed in the garage.
“Finally, someone to rival your fucking suits. Scared yet, Vicy?” I shot his direction when Ethan appeared in front of us.
“Khaos, you have some visitors. Dove and Hamilton is what the front desk girl gathered,” he looked at me in a questioning way just like I felt.
Fuck, what did I do now?
Playing coy, I felt the pressure to not look even more stupid front of Vic. I liked that getting a win out of me for his trophy case was impossible.
“Yes, see them to my office in a few minutes.” I felt my body slip right into Scarface mode as I walked right by Vic to my office getting into character the way I always did.
I didn’t have time for a custom change or any prep, but I sat down at my desk trying to channel some of Vic’s big dick energy that my $300 ripped up t-shirt wasn’t going to live up to. Pouring the energy drink into an empty glass that I had to sniff first, I arranged myself like the millionaire playboy I was making the role of Scarface modernized.
Changing my mind, I threw on some shades and told Ethan to have them brought to the conference room that we never used. I needed a proper stage, not an office with a half pipe and a stench of pot I couldn’t seem to escape.
Ethan rolled his eyes when I tossed him a Starburst that he caught with his mouth. Choosing the side of the room that was the deepest I felt myself slip fu
rther into the character, creating a backstory for myself.
Krosby, but they call me Khaos.
Cult member and ultimate shit starter.
Party favor expert and playboy who lives in the playboy bunny house itself.
No stranger to death, hell, I’m friends with him.
So, I was kind of playing myself, just amplified. Blame Birdy, she left me no choice but to be myself, my acting days were over.
Retired at 25. Such a waste, I could have been award winning.
The two guys walked in when I mulled over the names, Dove and Hamilton, well the big guy wasn’t flying anytime soon but I was here for the name. “Can I help you guys?”
Kicking my feet up, I was relaxed and not much worried, when the guy with the Brazilian appearance unbuttoned his jacket to sit down while the big guy blocked the door. “I’m Dove, maybe you’ve heard of me. I hear you’re stepping on my territory.”
“Khaos. Pretty sure LA is my territory… Is there a problem?” I matched his tone without the matching accent.
“What a unique name for someone I’ve never heard of. You’d think your chaos would be as infamous as your namesake. I will call you… Death Wish. Seems like you have one.”
My legs fell to the floor and my posture got straighter when I felt my stomach slip right into the space made for my asshole, not me, the real one. I was about to shit my stomach out of a place I didn’t want to think about right now because he looked like the kind of guy with real inventive ways of hurting you.
His hands were covered in ink, gold jewelry, and he had a face that was almost as pretty as Vic’s. He was like the evil version of Vic when I thought that job was already filled - by you know, Vic himself.
“It’s a rad name… I’ll consider it. Anything else or just the suggestion for a name change?”
Dove looked over his shoulder at the big guy who was still blocking the door before lacing his fingers up on the table, “Here is what’s going to happen… you’re going to stop selling drugs and taking my clients.”
I was now prairie-dogging and trying to play it cool even though my anus was contracting with so much force I should have been a bottom.