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

by Elena Monroe

  Not letting myself sulk I was committed to not playing on the same weaknesses I used to. The same weaknesses that made everyone around me think I was incapable, that made Grace not feel safe enough to tell me the whole truth, and the same weaknesses that kept me from growing up.

  I was determined to keep Grace safe the same way she had been keeping me safe.

  Back at Patmos, when the partying really started, the guys would lock me in a trunk if I got drunk enough to pass out somewhere that wasn’t my bed. Prank, initiation, spite - whatever it was it was going to keep fueling my motivations.

  After you get locked in a trunk enough times you become an expert at getting out.

  Using the long end of the zip ties around my wrists, I managed to get some leverage before popping the trunk. Trying to sit up enough to keep pushing it open I knew he’d notice quickly, when someone is in your trunk that kind of paranoia has to be a bitch.

  I didn’t know how long we had been driving or where we had been headed. Other than to my own death.

  Not so gracefully, I hit the road with a thud and felt all the tiny rocks stick to me. My hands were still secured together when the car came to a screeching halt and the big guy I’ve seen with Dove too many times stepped out like the drop of a Cadillac was nothing.

  Taking some big strides my way, I scurried to get to my feet and maintain some kind of distance when I went around the car playing a childhood game of tag.

  You can grow up without losing the parts of you that are whimsical. Wish I knew that before I weaponized it.

  “I’m not chasing you boy!” With a long pause I listened for footsteps as I stayed hidden behind the big SUV. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just trying to scare you into leaving town and not coming back. For Little Bird’s sake… they have to believe you’re dead.”

  Fake my death for my Juliet?

  Stepping out of the shadow of the car I held my zip tie hands up like they’d be useful, “I’m not giving up…” I found his eyes hoping I wouldn’t have to quote Romeo and Juliet because I was trying to move further away from playing roles.

  Now I was just Khaos, Anchary, and Mayhem.

  Two of which belonged to Grace, not even myself anymore. All I had to manage was my own authenticity.

  “He’ll kill you without a second thought. What do you think will happen to her then? You’re the only person she’s loved, and it’ll be a loss.”

  Every Patmos class ran through my head without permission, all the lectures and records on repeat trying to make being untouchable second nature.

  I mastered it but in comparison to others I always felt inferior. Those kinds of insecurities morphed into defense mechanisms like being too much fun for my own good.

  “He can’t touch me,” for once I believed myself. I believed I was the untouchable motherfucker they taught us to be.

  The big guy, Hamilton I think, laughed from his stomach in this way that taunted you to laugh too. “Okay, lover boy. See how far it gets you. Stay out of LA for a while and don’t contact her, he needs to think you’re dead for her safety.”

  Getting back in the car, he sped off like he simply needed to pull over for a pee break and not leave a human in no man’s land. With my hands bound I jammed my hands down my pants trying to fish my phone out when the screen wouldn’t light up the way it always did.

  My phone was dead.

  I had no idea where I was.

  And apparently me being dead gave Grace a fair shot at the freedom she thought she could never afford.

  I started walking the same way he went even though I knew tailing him was out of the question. Guy sped off like his life depended on it and it made me wonder how much it might.

  Kicking the rocks and dirt up, I fidgeted with the zip ties trying to get out of them when finally, I ripped my wrists from the hard plastic.

  Another Patmos specialty, if we were taken hostage we needed to know how to escape, only I was never paying much attention.

  I get it. I fucked myself and kept doing it until Grace put some damn order to my chaos.

  I had been walking for what seemed like hours, the sun already setting, and the darkness was so thick even I couldn’t spot the animal living inside me making me it’s prey.

  Grace withheld the truth to protect me the same way I didn’t hand her all my own problems.

  Grace didn’t have a stepdad/boyfriend combo but a keeper who brainwashed her better than the damn Clave.

  Grace was now tangled right back in with him because of me… I pushed her off the proverbial roof and she didn’t die. She flew right into old habits the way I always did.

  All the truths I was condemning her for, all the genuine I saw as fake, was Birdy surviving. The same way I survived by making myself Khaos and not Krosby.

  Darlene, my favorite ray of sunshine in a nurse’s outfit, told me Grace saved my life by dragging my ass out of the van. Little did Darlene know, Grace was saving my life by loving me, no car wreck needed.

  Once the vacant road turned into little identical houses all lined up, I kicked up some hope inside me.

  The valley? Seriously? He dropped me in the valley.

  The valley wasn’t far from LA, it was close enough to be a brutal workout and long ass walk but it wasn’t the bottom of the ocean with cement feet.

  Win, win even if the valley wasn’t LA.

  Realizing my parents’ house was closer than mine, I detoured myself in that direction as I started working on my plan to save Grace in my head. It started with my mom’s oh shit poison she had as her own escape plan and ended with me pissing on Dove’s dead body.

  In that order.

  When you show up at your parents’ house smelling like sweat, regret, and heartbreak- that shit sets off every alarm they have. It's some kind of requirement of being a parent to question every mistake and be there with the hugs.

  “Mon chou… Rockefeller just called us, they said you were taken. Security footage caught it.” My mom’s arms wrapped around me holding me tight to her chest like I was a wounded bird when really, I grew a pair of wings (and balls) on my walk here.

  Pulling myself out of her embrace, I looked around the kitchen for a spare phone charger to let it charge before I gave the guys a heads up that I was planning to go in guns blazing to get Grace back. Turning towards my mom only for a moment before I rummaged through her cabinets of witchy herbs and relics, “I need your plan B.”

  At one point in my life that was something a lot more fun. Normally when you plan to pull out and pray, but the big man upstairs is MIA so you decide his protection isn’t worth it.

  My dad laughed before I glared over my shoulder, thinking the same thing but staying focused for once. My mom took the key off from around her neck walking over to an old box on a shelf before twisting the locking mechanism revealing a small vile of liquid that resembled a stormy day.

  Good, there was a storm coming, named Khaos.

  “This isn’t a toy, Khaos. This is powerful and blessed by powerful women in France who dabble in the occult. It’s for emergencies… when things go wrong and we need an out.”

  I snatched the liquid from her hands in an aggressive way I didn’t know my hands possessed, “This is an emergency and there is no way out.”

  Walking back to my phone on the other side of the kitchen, I slid my finger up my phone pulling up the group text with the guys making sure I gave them a heads up while I got my plan in place.

  ME: I’m alive. Being zip tied wasn’t as fun as being handcuffed but I’m alive. I’m killing Dove tomorrow night so don’t wait up.

  VIC: No the fuck you aren’t.

  GRIMM: Do you even have a plan?

  BOWEN: I was invited to a party he’s throwing tomorrow. Might wanna start there.

  BOWEN: (photo of the invite)

  BOWEN: Doing great, loser, keep it up.

  ME: RIP the old me, assholes.

  The old parts of me holding me back from being the person they helped instead o
f the person they question already died, yet no one’s behaviors had changed except mine. I accepted my punishment, my fate, the fallout and hard road that brought me to Grace. If it had been any easier then we wouldn’t be star crossed lovers. Now it was time to let go and move forward.

  My mom must have disappeared while I texted the guys because she returned with a wooden box full of those vials like she was secretly planning world domination. “What the fuck, mom! Why do you have those?!”

  Her smirk turned up in a clear sign of disobedience and I finally knew who I inherited that from when my dad’s hand rested on my shoulder giving it a small squeeze. “Come with me to the garage. Let’s talk…” In parent lingo that meant prevent, pursue, educate, and submit. My dad, Krosby the 5th, was going to talk me out of this.

  I could actually smell myself when I followed his lead down the connecting hallway to the garage where he kept his prized possessions. All of our dads had a place to keep the things they held close. My dad? Cars. Rockefeller? Pieces from the people we hunt. Rothschild? Passwords since they’re the Clave’s gatekeeper. Astor? Blackmail.

  Following my dad into the garage, I dragged my finger along the cherry red paint job of his 1961 Alfa Romeo Giulietta Sprint Speciale. I always thought he would pass it down to me but when you don’t drive it makes parting with a car that would otherwise be enjoyed kind of hard. “You can’t talk me out of it… I’m prepared for whatever will happen tomorrow night. She’s worth it.”

  My dad plucked a set of keys off the wall from inside of a lock box, giving me the classic, small smile he hid from the world. He was only himself here, in his slice of paradise, and it was no wonder I was comfortable being everything but myself. “I’m not talking you out of anything. We’ve been waiting for the day you finally own who you are and how much that isn’t like the other guys.”

  Giving him a questionable look and raised eyebrow I waited for more to come when he simply tossed me the keys, “You’re gonna need a getaway car and something you didn’t sweat in.”

  “No warnings? No threats? No Clave bullshit?” I stood there flabbergasted.

  His hand on my shoulder he squeezed again like it kept me grounded in who I was right now… me. “We all do crazy things for the women who bring a little grace into our lives.”

  My dad was about the puns. Thank god it wasn’t genetic.

  Following my dad to his bedroom upstairs I went by my piece of heaven, my old room, the last place I was myself when my dad’s hand guided me back on track. “You’re going to need a suit if you’re going to be making a grand gesture.”

  His closet resembled mine: blurring the lines between feminine and masculine, colorful, worn instead of worshipped, and everything full of personality. Here, he could be exactly who he was, but the Clave was another thing, he had to be tough and cold to make the decisions that needed to be made.

  War isn’t kind and tender the way my father was. War is devious, vicious, and ruthless- everything I had to dig up inside me buried under years of a complacent personality.

  GRACE

  The shipyard was muggy, hot, and left a sticky condensation on my skin that made me feel heavy and suffocated.

  I never accompanied Dove and Hamilton when the exchanges happened but Dove made it clear with all nine of his texts that I was expected to be back at his house before they left.

  He was trying to break the pieces Khaos put back together in new ways.

  My shaky legs were barely holding up my weight for me to be able to stand tall next to them. I was up all night with my head in a toilet as the noises from the other end of Khaos’s abruptly ended phone call replayed on a loop. The feeling of not knowing if he was okay when I kept getting his voicemail recording was worse than any damage Dove could do to me ever again.

  The shipyard was normally off limits for anyone but Dove, Hamilton, and whatever other guys wanted to act like security. This is where the exchanges happened. This was where he was made into a villain.

  A blonde who looked like the epitome of California walked up to the SUV before Dove stepped out, rapping his knuckles against the black tints. Taking a deep breath before I slipped out, I tried to put on a brave face and remember the gang rules even though I felt like a cult member now.

  I was surprised at how easily all of the feelings, all the emotional ticks my face had learned, all of the parts of me that made me more human seemed to taper off as I walked over to Dove’s side.

  Hamilton brushed a look over his shoulder to me and I knew whatever was about to happen was real. The kind of real that meant my mouth needed to take a backseat. The last time I laid eyes on Hamilton he was being ordered to kill Khaos and now he was here not giving me any hints.

  My heart still felt alive… I expected it to stop beating the minute the other half of me left this planet.

  I turned my focus to the California blonde standing in front of me in a satin bomber with his locks side parted and small round sunglasses blocking anyone from recognizing him. He had a trim beard shaved down to shadows, contouring his face and then I noticed the simple wedding band...

  Everyone had risks here except Dove.

  “Money then you get the goods,” his voice was surprisingly smooth and casual when I expected something disorienting for a drug dealer on his level. He was every bit relatable while still nursing a mean streak in his mannerisms I could spot a mile away.

  Dove snapped his fingers and Hamilton opened the briefcase between our two groups not crossing the imaginary threshold when flashing them what they wanted.

  I watched Dove nod towards Hamilton, prompting him to leave the briefcase on the barrel and take a big step back, giving the guy across from us room to make his move. I watched him strut his way to the money like it called to him when he counted the bundles and looked for any signs of dishonesty.

  Dove pulled out a gun, facing Hamilton when he tilted his head to another guy on our side, forcing him to grab the goods he was there for while pointing the gun at one of the last people I cared for. “Sorry to do this now but I couldn’t help myself. It’s the perfect place to get rid of some dead weight. Isn’t that right Hamilton? Tell Little Bird what you did yesterday.”

  I felt my body tense, my heavy heart still around my ankles, and my fists indenting the inside of my palms with my short fingernails trying to draw blood like I wasn’t already suffering enough. I knew Hamilton wouldn’t kill him when he knew how much he meant to me.

  Escape.

  Paradise.

  Wings.

  Freedom.

  Finding Hamilton’s eyes, I let mine go wide in disbelief when Hamilton gave me a sympathetic look that made my heart fold in on itself, cutting down in size dramatically. His mouth fell open, “Bird, I’m so-”

  Dove cut off his words when the loud pop flooded my ear drums making me think someone popped a potato chip bag. I knew better. When you live this life, the scariest sounds feel like background noise.

  Moving closer to me I felt his lips press against my temple in some ill attempt to make what he just did okay. Hamilton fell to the floor holding his hand to his gut trying to cauterize the wound with his touch when his face fell into an even more sympathetic look.

  “He’ll never betray me again, Birdy.” He used the nickname only Khaos used and it hit differently when it was soaked in his exotic accent, his wafting cologne, and cold lips. “It’s you and I. Forever.”

  Choking on my now dry throat and the tears I was holding back because I didn’t feel safe enough to cry, I forced the words out, “Did he - is Khaos...” I couldn’t even put the word dead and Khaos in the same sentence when I felt every part of me crumble from the inside out.

  If Khaos was gone then why was I still breathing?

  If Khaos was gone then why was my heart still beating?

  Why didn’t the world seem even more empty and alone?

  “I always told you I would do anything to keep you for myself, Little Bird. When I found you, I had a broken wing, lost hope, w
as struggling to make a name for myself and you offered up your wing to replace my damaged one. I built you a beautiful cage to keep you safe when you couldn’t fly.” Dove’s hot breath almost blew me over, scattering pieces of me, all the tough skin into the cool California breeze.

  He had never given me value and now he only wanted to value me when my heart was broken, when Khaos was gone, and when I had no one left who was on my side. He wanted to force me to love him because I had nowhere else to put those kinds of emotions.

  Master manipulator.

  Professional narcissist.

  Toxic personality he overpriced.

  Twisting away from him I scowled and mustered up whatever salvation was in my mouth when I spit in his face, literally. “I wouldn’t love you the way I love Khaos if you were the last person on the planet.”

  That disarming laugh bubbled from his lips like rabies, “I believe loved is the right word,” his hand around my neck he held me in place. “You think you can come back from the dead and turn my people against me? There’s no way you win in this scenario so get on board with being mine or end up like Hamilton.”

  I felt his grip tighten around my throat while my body went rigid, stiffening so much I felt my muscles cramp up and my thick skin vanish. Pushing me backwards I landed on my ass at the blonde’s feet on the hard concrete feeling my exposed legs and hands scrap against the small rocks leaving a rash behind.

  Dove’s attention focused on the blonde, “You have the money, now load up my product. Think of her as a consolation prize.” He left me there on the ground to decide if I was going to be a dead woman walking or someone who trusted him - neither was appealing.

  Kneeling down while unbuttoning his silver suit, he found my wild eyes that wanted to cry and scream at the same time, “I’ll leave you with Hunter to figure out what loyalty means. Be at the party tomorrow.” With his words still slapping me in the face he stood and walked back to his car with his drugs in tow.