He looked up at the ceiling for a minute and then nodded to himself. “Sit down, Cali. I need to tell you something you should’ve known a long time ago.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
There was a ton of shit I would never tell Cali.
But then there were things I figured I’d been wrong about her knowing that maybe she should.
I told her Brock was her dad because I didn’t want her thinking she’d been getting fucked by her brother.
She looked at me, her blue eyes never shying from my onyx ones. There was a slight frown on her face, and I hadn’t even started yet.
I hadn’t the slightest fucking clue where her mind was.
Cali’s brain operated on its own wavelength; sometimes, it was damn near impossible to know what shit her head had spinning around in it.
Cobra and I had gone over what I should and shouldn’t tell her on the drive back from Jericho. That was the only reason I’d had her ride with Grimm. I wasn’t a ‘give space’ type of person. She could be as mad as she fucking wanted right beside me.
Grimm knew his baby sister was a whole different kind of fucked up than he and I were, but just like our father, he trusted me to take care of her and tell her what I thought she could deal with.
It was Cobra who miraculously wound up being the voice of reason. He pointed out how open-minded she was, how she didn’t judge anyone, how she could walk in a room with two people that destroyed her innocence and remain calm and outwardly collected.
She was so fucking strong.
I knew she could handle the parts of my past I was about to share with her. I walked to the window and rolled my neck.
“Time…it doesn’t change shit. No matter how many years go by, I still remember it like it was yesterday. My mom was David’s third wife. I was never close with him. He thought my mom had an affair because I didn’t have his eyes.
“Things were shitty but about as bearable as they could be in The Order. Then, your mom came along, and David got fucking obsessed. He fucked her on the side. I was young, but I can remember my mom crying a lot. It wasn’t until I got older that I pieced some of this together.
“Your mom got pregnant. David thought it was his. He found out it belonged to the man who was supposed to be his best friend—Brock. I think that’s when he fucking snapped.
“He had you removed from your mother. That same night, he put me in the Shiloh. I was five. The scars are just remnants of my time spent there.
I was allowed out once a month. Other than that, I was fed there, slept there, and spent my time in solitude. Men came to see me—a few women, too.”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw her hanging onto my every word.
“My mother gave me my tactical knife. I was ten by this time. A week later, in the middle of the night, I was taken from the Shiloh and brought into a room.
“Jonah was there, and David too, of course. And three others. They had a woman down on the floor with a veil around her head, taking turns raping her. Beating the shit out of her until her ribs cracked and her jaw broke. When they were done, they left me in there and told me to clean up their mess.
“I pulled the veil off the woman’s head and was met with the face of my mother. I killed her, used the knife she’d given me to slit her throat. I couldn’t fix her, and I couldn’t leave her to die like a wounded animal.
“Fucked up thing is, by that point I felt nothing for her. I still can’t bring myself to feel bad about it. I remember staring at the blood and placing my hand over her heart. I felt it beating hard at first, fighting to keep her alive. It slowly faded away.
“And you were right, David never told us to leave. Brock took me and Grimm in the middle of the night and got us out. He couldn’t get to you. You’ve always been untouchable. He went back to try, but David had moved the colony by then. The rest is ancient history.
“I grew up a cannibal. Brock did what he could to make me human again. He became something like a father; Grimm is my brother. We found Cobra a year later. ”
I sighed and turned to look at her, making my way back to the couch. I needed a fucking drink, and I didn’t drink.
“Rome, I––”
I hushed her with a kiss. “I don’t talk about this shit, Pixie. I don’t need to and I don’t want to. This was just something I wanted you to know.”
I expected her to push me. She didn’t.
“Okay. I understand. I won’t bring it up again, promise.” she held up her little pinky.
Fuck, she was perfect for me.
Like a pussy, I looped my much larger pinky with hers. She smiled as if I’d just given her a pony. “But you can tell me about your cult, right?”
“My cult?” I raised my brows. I guess she would’ve caught on to the fact that the Savages weren’t some street gang. I never told her much about it at all.
I’d just tossed her ass in my world without a lifejacket, and made her learn to swim in it. She hadn’t drowned yet, so I’d like to say things were going good.
“Really?” She tried to mock my look and failed.
“I’ll tell you about that another day. In the meantime, why don’t you get cleaned up? You have clothes in the closet. Come down when you’re ready.” I kissed her cheek and reluctantly moved away.
I could sit and talk with her for hours. Right then, though, I just wanted to talk to my brother.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
When his door clicked shut, I went to the closet and peeked inside. He’d had a whole section of grunge clothes and a few dresses brought in. He was always paying attention to the little things.
Smoothing my fingers over all the different fabrics, I thought over everything he’d just told me. The ache I felt for him was both physical and mental.
The Shiloh was a like a round metal water tower without the legs. There were three of them on the edge of The Order’s property.
They had one small circular window in the ceiling, dirt floors, and no toilets. I have no idea what my state of mind would be like if I’d been locked away as he had. I knew things couldn’t have been good for him, but he’d had it far worse than me. And now, David wanted to be his friend? Fuck that.
I wouldn’t pretend I knew what any of that was like. His admittance to killing his own mother didn’t even surprise me. Maybe that should’ve bothered me far more than it did, but I couldn’t force myself to conjure up feelings that weren’t there.
All I had was this bubbling fissure on my heart of pain, and heartache for the little boy he’d never got to be and what was done to him. I understood why he didn’t talk about it.
There was nothing pleasant in reliving those memories, and I didn’t need specific details to make the right assumptions.
I grabbed a simple black t-shirt dress, some knee-high boots, and finally some damn underwear from a drawer.
His bathroom was something from a dream. It was dark and warm, comforting and clean. I hadn’t sat down in a bathtub in months, so I went straight for the big ass soak box in the middle of the room.
Kicking off my shoes and clothes, I padded across the cool slate floor to the vanity, where a basket of bubbles sat. I’d never had bubbles before. I looked in one of the double mirrors as I waited for the tub to fill, trying to compare what I’d been to what I’d become.
The thing about mirrors is that they only showed us reflections of how we saw ourselves. They didn’t show what was inside us.
I used to want people to believe I had a light inside me, and in doing so, I made myself empty.
I knew the woman staring back at me was far from perfect, but at least I was no longer at odds with the stranger she’d been.
Maybe in a different world, I would have been fortunate enough to have a life full of laughter and love from the beginning. My hands wouldn’t have been permanently stained red.
But I didn’t, and I was okay with that, because I would have never belonged in that world. It didn’t matter who my mother was, because I never knew h
er, and nothing would change that.
I didn’t care who my father was, because I’d never had one. I felt nothing, only relief that I wasn’t an incestuous fuck toy, although that didn’t make me feel better about what was done to me.
Submerging myself in warm water and a variety of bubbles, I leaned my head on the rim of the tub and shut my eyes.
It felt good being able to think clearly without going into a tailspin.
My mind wasn’t so much of a chaotic war zone with the animal inside me wide awake and learning to thrive, no longer locked in a cage. I was exactly where I needed to be. It took a lot of dead bodies to get here, but I’d do it all over again if I had to.
I was born a freak, now turned into a deviant Savage.
I was the devil’s queen.
The devil was my king.
I’d found my peace in his world of darkness.
I woke up beneath a warm comforter and a semi-dark room. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep; I’d sat down for two minutes after getting out of the tub.
I could hear voices—lots of voices.
Hopping out of bed, I quickly dressed in the clothes still in the bathroom. My skin smelled like the variety of bubbles I’d dumped in my tub water. After a quick brush of my teeth and hair, I smoothed on black eyeshadow and left the room.
The second I shut the door, I spotted Romero. He was standing on the stairs addressing a house full of people. Some wore the masks and robes; some didn’t.
I stood back and watched him work the crowd. It was obvious that these people adored him and everything he represented. When he talked, they listened as if they were entranced, and when he moved, they followed as if they were compelled. I leaned against the door, content to stay in my little bubble for a few minutes longer.
“Cali.”
I blinked when he popped up in front of me.
“You zoned out on me, baby.” He linked our hands together and led me towards the stairs. Music was playing from somewhere, and the smell of food made me weak in the knees.
“Did I miss something?”
“Only that everyone is losing their shit because you’re home and having my kid.”
“I missed all that?” I had to damn near yell to be heard.
“Cali, you should have your skinny ass in bed and be pigging out. You’re exhausted. And don’t try and fucking bullshit me, I can see it.”
Fucker.
He led me to the sofas and sat me beside Arlen.
“Stay here; I’ll be back.” He disappeared into the masses without explanation.
A few minutes later, he was back with a plate of delicious goodness and a bottle of water. He dropped down on my other side and handed me the plate.
I bit into the juiciest burger in existence and almost moaned. I didn’t even care there was an onion on it. The meat was thick and healthy looking, unlike the flat mystery burgers The Order used to consume.
I swallowed my mouthful and looked over at him. He and Grimm had their heads bent in conversation. As I turned my attention back to my plate, Dhal caught my eye.
This chick was weird—and that said a lot, coming from me. She pretended she hadn’t just been staring at Arlen and me, making herself that much more obvious.
Finishing off my plate and water, I searched for a trashcan, only to have the plate lifted by an acolyte. He or she gave me a slight nod and simply walked away.
“Stop glaring.” Romero nudged me with a soft laugh, instantly making me melt. He’d been doing that a lot lately—laughing, that is. I loved it.
“They like doing shit like that,” he explained.
“Being garbage collectors?”
“I have to go to the pot,” Arlen said. She’d been speaking specifically to me, but Grimm heard due to the volume.
“Let’s go.” He stood up and held his hand out like a well-refined escort.
“I’m not goin to argue with you about being my shadow, because I don’t wanna piss my pants.” She took his hand and huffed out an exasperated breath.
I stared after them with furrowed brows.
“That’s going to happen,” Romero stated with something akin to amusement. I’d like to have agreed with him but I didn’t see it.
“Didn’t you all have a thing with her sister?”
“You mean, didn’t we all fuck her bitch of a sister at the same time?”
“Yeah, Rome, that’s exactly what I meant.” I rolled my eyes and shoved his shoulder. “What happened to her?”
“She’ll be at the hotel until it’s laundry day.”
I wanted to know what he meant but that would have to wait. I followed his gaze across the room where Luther stood with Dhal, both staring back at him expectantly.
“I’ll be back.” He rose from the couch, dropping a chaste kiss on my lips before making his way through the masses. Unsurprisingly, people got the hell out of his way without him saying a word.
Unsure of what to really do with myself, I just sat there, receiving more than a few weird hand signals and genuine grins, one of them from a redhead I remembered being at my initiation.
“Wanna girl chat?” Arlen asked, bounding up to me and wiggling her brows.
I had no idea how to do that, but one could try.
“Sure.” I grinned and let her pull me off the couch and through the crowd. Surprisingly, people were quick to move the hell out of my way, too.
We passed a man that had a woman sitting on his lap, stroking her hair. She was naked, and her throat was split open. He smiled at me, so I assumed he was lucid.
She took me through the back door, out into the warmth of the night. We walked to a patio set and sat down.
Across the lawn, I saw teepees of flames with some of the Order delegates and sisters being burned alive within them thrashing around in pain. Their screams were full of agony.
I’d seen much of this from my initiation, so it was easier to take in stride this time around. It would take a minute for me to adjust to this fully, but it was easily doable.
“How are you doin with everything?” she asked, tearing her gaze away from the fires.
“Well, I know my father went from being the head of a bullshit religious cult to a cannibal, but…I don’t really care. I’ve never had parents. This Brock guy doesn’t change that.”
“I totally get it. My sperm donor would rather run the Kingdom than be a dad,” she shrugged.
“Run the Kingdom as in…?”
“He’s the mayor,” she answered slowly, as if this was common knowledge.
“Your dad is mayor of Centriole?” I confirmed.
“Shit, you didn’t know?”
I shook my head. No wonder no one seemed surprised when she dropped Kingdom knowledge left and right.
I think people tended to forget my limited knowledge of the world. How would I have known who she was? I didn’t watch the televised news segments, or have cellulars.
The only news I’d ever been interested in was about the Savages. I only discovered my music preferences and clothing style four years ago.
“ It’s not something I ever discuss freely, but it’s not a secret. I thought you knew.”
Her tone was apologetic, so I believed her. I just couldn’t see it, and I didn’t understand why she was still in the Badlands, along with her sister. After Romero’s cryptic response about Beth, I was positive something was going on with that whole situation and they were both tight lipped about it.
I wasn’t going to dive into her business—that included raging at Romero to tell me what the fuck it was, because I knew he knew. If she wanted to tell me, she would.
“You know what’s crazy?” she asked.
“Hmm?” I responded absentmindedly.
“If people in The Order are turning on each other and either joining the Savages or branching off, and the same is happening with everyone else, where are these rouges aligning? No one wants to be alone in the Badlands. That’s fuckin suicidal.”
I replayed her words in my head
twice.
She was right.
“You’re right. There’s someone else, a third player!” Goddamn, why hadn’t I thought of that? It was the same question I’d asked myself long ago: who the fuck was the enemy of whom?
I sat up in my chair, already spinning through who it could be. I began speaking aloud. “Whoever is feeding people info is on the inside and close to this person. So close that they knew Romero had me the first time and exactly when he had me the second time. Now, who would run off and tell David Romero had found me?”
“That little bitch, Dahlia.” Cobra’s venomous voice cut through our conversation.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Everything that happened after Cobra eavesdropped on our conversation was a blur.
He was there one second and gone the next, no doubt going straight to Romero.
I waited around with Arlen, but nothing happened. She wanted to confront her; I knew it was best to give the bitch her illusion of safety and let her gut herself.
She was lingering and interacting with people when I went back to the room.
I ended up in bed without Rome, figuring he was out pillaging villages in a rage, or drowning puppies.
What sounded like a foghorn woke me at three in the morning.
Before I could make it down the hall to investigate, Romero carried me—literally—back to our room and fucked me back to bed.
Fast forward a few hours later, a woman with silver hair and a pudgy face quickly lost her smile when neither of us seemed to have the reaction she was expecting.
“Heartbeat is one-fifty-four.” She wiped her fetal Doppler off and then the goop on my stomach. “That’s good,” she added when I stared blankly.
Romero squeezed my hand, and I squeezed his back. We were happy, of course, but neither of us were sentimental people. I was so in love with him that I’d lie, steal, and kill without hesitation. Yet, I’d only said it once.
I just found out the asshole who spent my whole life playing god wasn’t my real father, but that a man who literally ate prime rib was. I wasn’t going to break down over a heartbeat.
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