THE SACRIFICE: Secret Society Romance (4Horsemen Series Book 3)

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THE SACRIFICE: Secret Society Romance (4Horsemen Series Book 3) Page 10

by Elena Monroe


  I wanted to be done with this conversation, but I knew backing down wasn’t something any of us did well.

  “I don’t sell drugs. I throw ragers, sometimes there happens to be drugs of a large variety complimentary for my guests. I can’t help it a lot of people fuck with me. Fucking with me - you fucking with the best.”

  Score, slipped in a Scarface line even under a hail fire of fucks from the other end of the table.

  Dove stood up nodding his head like he drew some conclusion from the bullshit I was spinning enough to end this for me. “I see… Well, Death Wish, I would advise you stop. I’m just as bad for your health as those drugs you’re dipping into.”

  He buttoned his suit jacket and headed towards the door only turning back once more to pin me in my place while his threat sunk in.

  It sank in, but it also didn’t hold any weight. We were raised on the idea that we were even above the 1% of the population that used money to wipe their asses. We were untouchable. Why would some guy I’ve never heard of scare me?

  I’ll admit it, he killed the role of jilted gangster with so much conviction I would have given him an Oscar if I had one. But, scared? That’s an emotion I will reserve for Birdy, exclusively.

  I finished my Red Bull from the fancy glass before I went to seek out Grimm. I needed to talk to someone about what I was feeling and who better than death himself who fell for life?

  If Grimm could do it so could I.

  KHAOS

  Leaving the conference room, I didn’t expect to see the guys waiting for answers like I had just lost my virginity and they needed all the details.

  Maybe this felt more like hazing.

  “Thank god you are here. I gotta talk to you.” I walked past the guys and headed straight into Grimm’s office laying down on the couch ready to figure out what I was feeling - therapy style.

  Grimm walked into his office a few minutes later, closing his door behind him, “Who were the creeps?”

  Crossing my legs at the ankle and twisting my arms behind my head, “Those guys? Not important… I have some real problems.”

  Leaning against his desk with his gun right beside him he had his arms crossed already annoyed with me.I may be fun but I wasn’t oblivious. I could tell people were annoyed before I truly gave them a reason to be.

  People didn’t want something different to be reflected, they wanted you to mirror their emotions because that’s what matters to them and I directly violated that premise.

  Ooops.

  My demons were the life of the party. I didn’t cope the same way they did: pleasure that looks like pain, losing that looks like winning, or dying that looks like living.

  Mine partied the noise away and fucked away the monogamy.

  “I met someone… I can't really shake her.”

  “Like a stalker?” Grimm asked but I knew he was watching the gangsters leave if they hadn’t made it to the elevators yet.

  “No, what the fuck? No. A normal girl. A real, beautiful, witty, magical unicorn who can stand me for longer than expected. I mean I’m not even paying her to like me.”

  He swallowed a chuckle when I gave him a side eye stopping his laugh from getting too big.

  “So what’s the problem? Add her to the alphabet.” Now he sounded more annoyed, understandably.

  My kind of girl problems consisted of juggling how many holes I can shove my dick in before I come and dealing with multiple shark weeks.

  Like a champ, in case you wondered.

  I was always prepared with tampons, snacks, and movies to make you cry. Always.

  Groaning I sat up, “Shots fired… I already have a B. If that orgy was any indication, then I can’t juggle them and her. But… I guess it’s only two years so how bad could it be? Pre-domesticated Khaos.”

  “I’m glad you figured that out on your own. Who were those guys? Be real, Khaos.” Grimm’s voice got low and sinister when he was ready to do anything to get answers.

  It would be hot if I wasn’t so scared.

  Tossing a pink Starbursts in my mouth I chewed on it before I responded, “Some losers who think I’m selling to their clients.”

  Grimm stood up at attention and bullied my space, “Excuse me? Why would they think that Khaos? Are you fucking selling? We don’t touch drugs. Everything but, you know the rules.”

  Thinking out loud I spoke, “They’re pretty scary. If people are going to think that my recreational habits are me being Scarface, then maybe I should finally get a gun…”

  You can tell when you piss off Grimm, his face deepens, not in a comforting way, but with so much rage he has to talk himself out of killing you.

  It’s almost like his face could melt off his bones and he really would be the original reaper.

  Standing even closer to me, he yanked me up by my shirt and pushed me into the wall with such little effort I felt like a rag doll.

  His fist clenched around the fabric of my shirt, pinning me, his forearm grinding into my chest. He cocked his gun looking down the chamber before pressing the barrel to my forehead. “Are you ready to do this? Pull the trigger if you need to?”

  “Jesus fuck. I said maybe I should get one...” Lightening the mood was no use, if Grimm wanted darkness then he got pitch black and left you without a way to see.

  “I’m gonna say this once. If I find out you’re selling or producing drugs I will end you myself. Do you hear me? I won’t hesitate. I will bury you and pretend you never existed.” His voice was too steady to not make my stomach drop again.

  He knew how to hurt me; our loved ones always did.

  Never existing.

  I wanted to exist and then some.

  Grimm did what he was told and what was best regardless of input, if I was a threat to the Clave or his happy life then he’d follow through.

  Fighting against his grip I felt his ability to pin me against the wall get stronger. His fingers dug into my cheeks holding my head still, forcing me to look at him, “You’re family but don’t test me.”

  His fingers let my jaw go and I pushed him so hard I almost thought I hurt him when he managed to not fall.

  “You aren’t ready to get your hands dirty.”

  Suddenly, none of this mattered when the tightness took over my chest and I was being dragged into a memory I wanted to forget.

  You don’t hurt people.

  It was a mistake.

  Voldemort got her name for that exact reason, the ability to affect me even this many years later like we were connected by more than my broken heart.

  Rushing Grimm, I slammed him against the wall, “What did you say to me?”

  In his defense my anxiety has its own life living parallel to mine, yet our scenes overlap sometimes.

  I heard him say, no one is ever going to love you, the same way she did.

  Depression, anxiety, ego problems. Hell, I even had problems trying to compensate for those problems like chasing adrenaline and getting hurt in the process.

  Like right now trying to take on Grimm because my anxiety wanted to bend my reality.

  In reality, I couldn’t take him.

  In reality, he knew how to hurt me but wouldn’t kill me by bringing her up.

  But anxiety? That shit would make you trip harder than any pill, powder, or liquid promise of a high.

  Grimm let me scream and yell too close to his face. He let me pin him against the wall and pretend I had an upper hand. He’d be your punching bag if you needed it because he was the only one who saw the animal of anxiety on my back twisting the truth.

  Gripping my arms, he might as well have shaken me to death when he shouted my name and threw the memory away for me.

  “You okay?” Now his voice was sympathetic and less cold than normal.

  “I’m fine. Stop babying me. I’m in the same cult as you. They don’t just let anyone in, I’m just as fucking useful as you guys.”

  I got out of there like the room was on fire to find the bathroom. Locking the bathroo
m door, I slid down the wall until my ass kissed the floor.

  I wanted to rip my hair out as my fingers combed through it with an unsteady breath. My chest was heaving, and my body was pulsing for a hit, a high, a dose of adrenaline - anything to use up this energy and calm me down.

  Scary creeps.

  Grimm.

  Voldemort.

  Finally, my mind landed on Birdy.

  Taking a few slow inhales with Birdy in the forefront of my mind I felt my over accelerated heart rate slow down enough for my body to stop trembling on the bathroom floor. With a shaky hand I pulled out a joint, placing it between my lips, putting my lighter to it, watching it shrivel up at the end.

  I didn’t need drugs to balance out my memories, my personality, and my trauma but it certainly helped keep me to level out instead of whatever kind of broken you wanted to call this.

  With the joint still in my mouth I let my head fall back against the cold wall with my eyes open and on the space between my legs. If I tried really hard, I could see Birdy on her knees crawling over to me with those eyes that weren’t soaked in sex - they were sex.

  For a girl who preferred men’s clothing she sure did ooze the kind of tension onto me that had Anarchy springing to life even with my imagination doing all the work.

  My dick felt like a loaded gun, already swollen and hard enough to not ignore.

  My hand slipped down my own body giving the bulge in my pants a squeeze when I knew I had to do anything in my power to erase Birdy from my mind.

  I didn’t care how much it took. I wasn’t going to find someone more authentic than her, but for now I had a hard on to cure.

  Getting up off the floor I kept my fingers pinched around the joint when I walked past Ethan at his desk looking like he was working but he wasn’t.

  “Ethan, I need your help in my office.” I said it like I needed to cover up what was about to happen when no one was around to care and if they did, I had two middle fingers for them.

  He didn’t say one word when he got up from the desk and followed me into my office with a devilish smirk on his lips. As soon as the door closed behind me, I pushed him up against it with my lips, pinning him there breathless as I pulled at his shirt.

  Two inauthentic people trying to be something we weren’t: real, meaningful, genuine.

  I didn’t want Ethan, but he worked in a pinch like always and if I wanted to touch him, he needed to be in the alphabet. Once I felt his tight mouth and how hard he knew to suck he earned himself a permanent spot as my E.

  Our lips were crashing together and devouring each other just to taste more of the inside of our mouths. The way we tasted against each other’s tongues was a mix of the joint between my fingers, Starbursts, and coffee. He made everything sweeter.

  Pushing him to the desk, my hand on his back, I put down the joint in the cup of pens for later before I undid the button on my jeans. Shoving my own hand down my underwear I groaned at my own touch.

  Ethan stayed still but I could tell the way he was gripping the edges of the desk he needed in on the action. I didn’t need him at all, yet my dick begged to be set free.

  Anarchy had a mind of his own.

  His joggers were easy to pull down, khaki and ironed, with a plain button down that was too appropriate for the kind of atmosphere I created for my corner of the world. Letting them drop to his ankles I pushed my hips into his ass letting him feel how hard I was.

  Not for him, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “Spit,” I pushed my hand to his mouth waiting for him to create some lubrication.

  Ethan complied, licking my hand before spitting on my palm, pushing down his boxers with one hand. Managing to swipe the moisture against his ass I debated not following through for the slightest second.

  Get a hold of yourself. You’re obsessed with her, not in love, there’s a big difference.

  That was all the pep talk I needed before I spit on my hand too, letting my own arousal coat my length while my hand dragged lazily up and down making sure there was enough moisture not to hurt.

  He whined for more, “Khaos. Stop teasing me,” like it was a normal thing I did - tease.

  Maybe it was true.

  I like being escorted to the edge not pushed off the cliff. Otherwise, that’s murder, sweetie. I just need an accomplice.

  Without much warning I pushed the tip of myself between his pale cheeks that I was separating with my hands. I liked to watch, see myself disappear into the tight hug Ethan is.

  An exasperated moan choked his throat while he expanded for me.

  My hands making their way to the desk I drove my hips into him deeper waiting for the normal relief I wasn’t feeling this time.

  In small thrusts, never pulling out, only deeper my ability to forget wasn’t blooming how I wanted. All I could think of was Birdy, not about coming, or Ethan, or the tight hug his ass is.

  Birdy.

  Pulling out with a dense pop I stood there, “Put your mouth on me.”

  Ethan dropped to his knees before I could finish telling him what I wanted.

  He was a people pleaser and that was one thing I hated about him. He never put up a fight or spoke back or even gave me shit. Birdy did all of that the second I met her.

  She didn’t let me charm her or buy her and that’s what I liked.

  Ethan’s lips were swollen and a deeper red from pulling and pushing down my length. My hand on the back of his head picked up his pace even when I could hear the gagging because I went too deep.

  When you're paid there’s not much guilt on my end. You’re being compensated so what happens is met with enough - money.

  My hips and the muscles in my lower abs tensed and I knew I was close to coming.

  How could I not be? Ethan is 100% gay, bot spectrum, he’s gay and knows how to suck.

  “Faster,” I managed to spit out in my silence.

  Holding his head in place I nearly folded over letting myself spill in his hot mouth. My dick jerked against his tongue making sure every last drop was milked out of me.

  He does this thing with his tongue while I’m coming that sends me over the edge.

  Pulling my hips back I pulled myself from his mouth and pulled up my pants leaving him there on his knees the same way I did last time.

  As I zipped my jeans, I shot his direction, clearly still in some kind of Birdy trance, “Did you find anything?”

  Looking out the window, it was a perfect California day and I decided I had done enough work when I walked over to my surfboard leaning against the wall.

  “No, sorry Khaos. She’s a ghost. You sure it wasn’t a dream or something?”

  That was one time, once, and it wasn’t a person but an incredible pizza shop in one of my dreams.

  I didn’t respond, instead I grabbed my board before he was even up off the floor and threw up a peace sign. My work here was done and now it was time for a lunch time surf.

  ETHAN

  He left me there again, on my knees; that’s where he liked me.

  Serving.

  I didn’t have a problem serving a God like him.

  Someone has to.

  That’s the thing about people like Khaos, they don’t see what’s best for them and it’s our job to see it for them.

  Normally he makes mistakes he’ll recover from, has problems that don’t last forever, and ends up where he should be… with me.

  It’s hard being the only good part of someone’s life waiting to be noticed.

  Pulling up my pants I felt my phone drag my pants down. Fingering my phone out of my back pocket I typed in my passcode because without it I would be giving him unlimited access to my life when he has enough control here.

  It was my turn to have some control, say, and power in this relationship.

  Popping a pink Starburst in my mouth, my phone opened to the Instagram I found of some guy named Ears when I found the girl he was looking for.

  I knew it was her, beach bunny and skateboar
der, who looked more like trouble instead of a good girl.

  She was a girl version of the man I worship and could still taste mixing with the strawberry flavor in my mouth now.

  It didn’t matter what kind of person she was - I knew I was the best option for Khaos and I was going to be here when he realized that.

  He just needed less distractions.

  GRACE

  My eye was mostly cool now, less swollen but still ugly. It was red and purple, fading like makeup that had missed my actual eyelid.

  Luckily, I could at least see out of it now.

  I grabbed my board, dropping it to the sand to buff the wax on the surface before I let the waves take me. Ears was under a beach chair with a huge umbrella and sunscreen not rubbed into his ebony skin tone that would make you think he was neurotic.

  Well, he is.

  Shimmying out of my shorts, I double knotted the strings on my bikini to ensure no malfunctions happen while I shred the waves. It’s bad enough I have these subtle curves, I don’t need to give people a free show too.

  “I’m gonna guess you’ll be staying here on land?” My lips were already cracking a smile when I waited for Ears to reply.

  “I’m tan enough, don’t you think?”

  Smart ass.

  Grabbing my board, I felt the weight difference between my skateboard make my arm tighten until I hit the water.

  The water had a chill that sent a full body tingle up my limbs. It was better than coffee and could cure anything.

  My hands on either side of the board, I felt my body go flush against it as I plunged under the wave, appearing on the other side.

  If you could get far enough from the shore you could see the horizon, all the colors and a clear sky close enough to touch.

  Straddling my board, I heard paddling behind me as a group of guys got closer, taking over the quietness with their chatter.

  Looking over my shoulder I didn’t expect to see a familiar face, but I did. Those green eyes, hair battling a few different shades, those random tattoos spread over that toned body, and that damn smirk seemingly permanently stuck to his lips.

  Great.

  Now he surfs where I do.

 

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