by Elena Monroe
Hamilton's body was still on the ground, still looking alive, but I knew better. His body wasn’t moving up and down to breath and his hand that was holding the wound had fallen down to his side.
Hamilton was dead for helping me and putting me before Dove’s desires.
Khaos was dead for loving me and getting in the way of Dove’s success.
It didn’t teach me the lesson he was hoping for. I felt the thick skin I used to have burn off against the anger- I was going to get my wing back from him. I was going to be the reason Dove was caged and I felt comfort with the thought of him dropping the soap in the shower knowing what happens to men in jail who fuck underage girls.
They never last long and if they do it comes with some lifelong pitfalls.
“No dice, sweetheart. Don’t give me that look, it’s how I ended up married.” He didn’t move one muscle, the kind of confidence that didn’t need actions to prove he meant what he said, it was just clear as day. “Let’s get you dropped off somewhere safe before my wife senses a female presence around. Crazy bitch will want to reenact all the close calls to us being in cuffs again.”
Offering his hand to me I took it standing up on wobbling legs, determined to get whatever Rodriguez needed to make Dove pay.
Hunter led the way to a black mustang that was so dark it blended in with the darkness of the shipyard making it incognito. “Get in. We’ll figure the rest out once we’re out of here.”
That’s exactly what I did. I took the escape route and slipped inside the mean car and fixed my gaze on the window while I reeled from losing everything in a snap of some fingers. Pulling out my phone I stopped the memo app from recording in my pocket and sent the file to Rodriguez in a text along with: His name is Hamilton. He deserves a real burial.
He also deserves justice.
“I have to stop somewhere before we figure you out,” I heard the lighter flick on and the distinct smell of marijuana beside me when I didn’t bother to reply. His hand extended out towards me as he nudged my arm with his elbow, “You need this more than I do…”
Being in this room felt like some kind of sick joke as I sat in front of the mirror examining my bruises, the busted lip, the faint finger stains on my neck from when he grabbed me. All of my wounds clashed against the vermillion red satin dress that clung against my shoulders with a slit falling open at my thigh.
Looking down, I stared at the tattoo peeking out from under my dress on my upper thigh, his name now immortalized on me forever. It was spiteful enough to make sure no other man thought they owned me when my body stated otherwise.
The sparse amount of makeup on the small vanity I never used taunted me to cover up the bruises, but I was going to wear them with honor. I took the physical pain with a smile because it was easier than the pain lodged in my chest.
Grasping at the necklace I would never pick out for myself, I hung it around my neck and looked in the mirror when I noticed Dove in the doorway stalking his way towards me.
Leaning down into me he admired the kind of pretty I looked tonight with his eyes scraping down the deep V and slit opening before his words matched. “My Little Bird, you look so beautiful you could almost fly…”
Grinding my teeth, I felt my jaw ache, “It’s for him, not for you.” My fingers outlined my fresh tattoo in red ink courtesy of Hunter’s pit stop before he dropped me at Vic and Justice’s.
A piece of Khaos, forever.
Always reminding me to be wild, unpredictable, and fearless the way he was.
Dove grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him, “Find your loyalty before you find yourself dead just like your boyfriend.”
I'd rather die than pronounce myself loyal to anyone but the person whose name was branding my thigh.
Dove killing me would be a favor.
If it weren’t for my anger looking for retribution like a hot missile I would have ended myself just to possibly end up where he is now.
Looking up, I didn’t believe in Heaven but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind he’d end up somewhere where he can cause some havoc.
KHAOS
Standing in the mirror of my old room, I tugged the suit jacket down over my shoulders seeing how the crushed red velvet complimented the plans for this evening.
Blood.
Revenge.
War.
Love.
I didn’t recognize myself. The outside seemed familiar but when every other part of you comes alive it’s hard to incorporate the old you into focus.
I wasn’t the old me anymore. I was finally the person I always avoided being… I was finally authentic instead of playing the role I thought everyone wanted me to. It took Grace clashing against my chaos to see the greatest role I could play was being me. No matter how disliked or how ugly that might make me because being real was more important.
The gold Clave ring with our snake symbol that I never wore sat on my childhood desk and I pushed it past my knuckle looking at it shine against the lighting.
I was going to embrace all of me that I had buried in my last performance.
I’m Krosby Henry Arthur Otis Sebastian DuPonte the sixth, a four horseman of the apocalypse for the Illuminati group the Clave.
I’m War and that’s the only part you’ll see me play now.
RIP the old me because that fucker was dead and buried. If this is who it took to keep Grace safe with me for eternity, then believe me I would bring every war to your doorstep and start every one of them happily.
Luckily, she’ll think dirty hands are equally as hot as my currently baby soft ones.
Twisting the ring around my finger, I spoke to my reflection out loud, “You aren’t a fuck up. You are fucking enough. You are going to march in there and do exactly what scares you. You don’t need anyone to hold your hand. Chase the fear, fucker.”
I was saying the words, but did I believe them?
Hell yes. People who can turn themselves on love a mirror pep talk, it's a crack for the ego.
Also, the only crack I was allowed.
Picking up the keys, I tossed them up and took one last look, giving myself a wink. Being myself looked good on me… I should have buried the part of me who wasn’t taken seriously years ago.
Jogging down the stairs, my parents were waiting by the door like they were sending me off to prom. If you hear prom and think Carrie, then sure it works as a reference- maybe if they had done this last time, I wouldn’t have pushed my ex off a building.
My mom being the pillar of strength in our family that she was cupped my face burning off the extra confidence with just her touch. “You can’t own who you are until you forgive yourself for the past. This is the night that you two will rise from your ashes.”
Her words shook my soul alive, the same soul that laid dormant for years trying to keep me off limits in all the ways the Clave didn’t. All the ways people search the ends of the earth to be touched.
My soul was alive now and tethered to Grace.
Pushing my closed fist against my dad’s I left their comforts and jumped into the convertible mulling over the plan one more time in my head. Find Grace, don’t let her drink or eat anything, confront Dove, and burn it all to the ground leaving nothing between us anymore.
Being behind the wheel wasn’t the kind of uncomfortable I expected so soon after an accident as I twisted the key below the steering wheel and let the maps on my phone in my lap guide me like a new wave kind of fate.
My hype song for tonight’s war, “Crown Me” by Hopsin, began pumping through the speakers as I pulled out of the driveway while searching my dad’s dash for any remnants of Mary Jane.
The old me was resting in peace while the new me rested in power but that didn’t change that I still have an animal inside me threatening to tear down all the building up to my ego that my pep talk did. Swallowing down my nerves, I found a joint in his suit jacket that I was wearing with no shirt.
I had that shit between my lips with a lighter at the end in
no time. My whole life amounted to this moment and I needed my animal to chill the fuck out before it ruined my entire entrance.
Using my knees to drive like a professional as I drifted through the hills of California while smoking a joint probably wasn’t the best idea since last time I was behind the wheel I just gave the universe another way to keep us apart.
Dove wasn’t even that far from me or my parents and yet it took the universe twenty-five years to let our paths cross. Two halves of the same pendent - the grace to my chaos.
Once Siri, who I had set to a British man, told me my destination was on the right I pulled the red bandana up over my face, leaving only my eyes visible. Hiding my face was merely for dramatics - Dove knew exactly who I was, and I had the metal fused with the bones in my hand to prove it, but I was supposed to be dead.
I was a dead man walking with all the power to make my entrance even more epic because he wasn’t going to see me coming.
It was an obvious scene with bodyguards strapped with guns and rap sheets you could dream up. These guys were pure muscle, a dash of bad intentions, and a whole lot of don’t give a damn standing outside the open iron cage.
Ironic considering I was throwing her cage away and calling her free after tonight.
Getting past security at Dove’s was easy after arriving fashionably late and tossing them a quick glance at the invite on my phone like I was meant to be here. They didn’t question me when my spine steeled and my motives took over my actions.
Dove was living like a king (or cult member with an inflated expense account and sense of entitlement). His glass house sat on the edge of the hill overlooking LA with an iron gate to keep him safe, guards to do his bidding, and a security system I already winked at when I got out of the car.
Adjusting the red velvet suit jacket I let myself believe I could go head-to-head with him while my mom’s words sunk in: you can’t own who you are if you don’t forgive yourself. That’s exactly what I was going to do with every step closer to the door I took.
I forgave myself for everything I used to be and finally saw who I was walking in here tonight. I wasn’t the fuck up anymore - I was the grenade waiting for this moment to explode.
I made sure to look at the time as I prowled my way to the door raking my fingers through my windblown hair and making sure my eyes felt as vengeful as I did when security opened the doors for me.
Even his boys wanted to obey me, and I hadn’t even made a single move yet.
Strutting my way inside, I took in the dark and sleek interior filled with waitresses in small skirts and backless shirts like they were just demanded to become servers tonight. It wouldn’t surprise me if he dabbled in more than breaking hands and dipping his dick in sixteen-year-old juvie girls.
A waitress smiled softly at me offering the tray of drinks when I lifted a hand signaling her to fuck off. The race of women could have gone extinct and I wouldn’t have cared if it meant Grace was mine.
Observing every face for Grace or clues to her whereabouts I ended up spotting America’s most wanted list. You could see the segregation in the room clearly, each group of criminals keeping close to their own kind of trouble. Thugs, mobsters, killers for hire- basically every version of the horsemen, only we got slaps on the wrist for the bad things we did.
Still scanning the space and gliding past people I didn’t know, I walked further into the house trying to be aware of my surroundings even though it didn’t matter much. Dove was going to die tonight while foaming at the mouth instead of during a brawl like the way movies try to prepare you for.
Spotting Zeus, the guy bankrolling the Clave, sitting back comfortably next to his minion, I witnessed him give me a wink as I walked by.
Encouragement?
A promised threat?
I didn’t have time to care. All that mattered was finding Grace.
Everything was starting to blur as I ignored everyone else completely in my desperation to find her. I felt like I hit a brick wall at ninety miles per hour when in reality I never drove that fast.
Only my anxiety goes zero to one hundred.
Groaning to myself, I let the party distract me for just one second when I saw a red satin dress from behind and a small ass hiding underneath. She was standing in a circle with some guys as they laughed like the world was sitting in the palm of their hands.
Maybe it was if we were letting them think they were better than us.
The blonde with her hair dusting the tops of her shoulders was holding an untouched drink when I watched her glance over her shoulder like she could feel me analyzing every mark on her. There were purple bruises and scrapes on her back holding onto her skin for dear life.
I watched her move her eyes to the floor like she was hoping that it would swallow her whole and end the conversation happening around her.
Her full lips coated in red lipstick made me wonder if the pout was permanent or simply circumstantial. Standing up straighter against the wall I realized the girl I was analyzing wasn’t just any girl… it was my Grace shrouded in a distracting haze that was so unlike her it made my heart hurt that I didn’t recognize her sooner.
She was a bird in a cage even after I gave her wings.
I watched her play at being a perfect little gangster when Dove’s hand slipped down her low back, hovering over her ass in the red satin. His lips touched her ear whispering something I couldn’t hear, but I had an imagination that gave me some ideas.
I wanted to kill him instead of waiting for the poison in all the food and drinks to take initiative. It’s a misconception that poison will kill you instantly. It’s painful, slow, and likes to flirt just like me. My mom called in a favor and had everything poisoned through the caterer. It was dramatic enough and yet my hands still didn’t feel exactly dirty even though all the death in this house would be under my name.
My eyes followed Grace as she walked away and the group of guys all took in her frame like he’d share the spoils of her with his comrades. Dove’s hand slapped her ass while they all laughed, and her catatonic demeanor sat on her face like foundation without flinching at his touch.
Following her to the bar in the next room, I watched her hands grip the edge of the counter until her knuckles turned white when I glided by her, “Careful Birdy, those drinks taste like chaos.”
Her body stilled against my words hitting the back of her neck where the dress showed off every bruise she had like wounds she was proud of. Watching her chest rise and fall quicker than normal I grabbed her wrist pulling her behind me down a hall that I didn’t know where it went.
As long as it was private, I didn’t care.
Pushing open the first door I saw, I watched her lean against the door in shock like she had seen a ghost when I boxed her in, hands on either side of her hips making sure she didn’t run away. The most perfect single tear cascaded down her cheek breaking every ounce of that catatonic behavior the further it slid down her features.
Pulling my bandana down between us, she examined me like I might be some hallucination, when her hands pulled me down into her and I felt her lips collide with mine hungrily.
Letting my tongue taste her, I dropped down far enough to pick her up, pinning her against the door as her legs wrapped around me. She was shaking in my arms as she held onto me with a thunderous grip and it made me want to kill anyone for making someone like Grace this petrified.
Pulling away slowly from our kiss to stare at me again, tears filling her eyes as she held my face in her hands. “You’re - you’re alive…”, her words shook as our foreheads touched.
Alive? Now, I know why I was kidnapped.
I reminded myself to thank the guys for locking me in a trunk at Patmos. I probably would be dead if I didn’t know how to ruin plans so well.
Holding her up by her ass, I turned around finding a desk behind us, setting her down gently, “Tell me you didn’t eat or drink anything.”
Her red lips fell open but no words came out as my hands
smoothed up her bare legs making the slit in her dress even more provocative. Looking down, I saw my name tattooed across her thigh with an anarchy A. All she was missing was Mayhem from the memorial tattoo on her thigh that was clearly meant to immortalize me since I was supposed to be dead.
It only made me feel more alive.
Pressing my lips to hers softly, I tried to focus but now that I had her back it was hard to care about much else. “Tell me you didn’t, Birdy. It’s all poisoned.”
Shaking her head, our lips tangled again in small pecks that had Anarchy and Mayhem on the same page. Barely pulling away, her hands coasted up my chest and abs like poison was the least of her worries when her fingertips found the sutures over my heart.
“I almost lost you twice…” tears were staining her ocean eyes making them glassy.
“You saved me both times. I can’t leave you alone in this world. We go together or not at all.”
Reaching in my jacket, I pulled out two vials: one was red and the other was a transparent smokey color that made it look empty.
“I need you to put this in his drink. We only have about ten minutes before people start dying.” She took the vial out of my hand and held it so tight that I knew she heard me.
Her fingers danced on the back of my hand when she whispered, “This one? Is it for us?”
Holding her chin up, forcing her to look at me, “Romeo and Juliet escaped fate with poison, but we are going to make our own fate, baby. This is the last piece to you becoming part of the Clave, to our future together, to being mine.” Leaning down into her neck I left a single kiss on her skin knowing that if we kissed anymore the entire house would be dead and Dove would catch on.
Whispering against her warm skin, “I love you, Grace. We’re on a time crunch...” Actually listening to me, she made her way to the door, stealing one more longing look still trying to figure out if I was a ghost or if I was actually here. Drifting back towards me, her lips pressed against mine prompting my hands to hold onto her one last time before she turned away again to head back to the party.
Fixing my bandana back in place, I returned to the hallway, stealing a place on the stairs in the middle of his palace to watch all the mightiest criminals who were about to go down so easily. I could hear the coughing starting up and the panic ensuing that always came with the sight of blood.