Grave Decisions (Hellgate Guardians Book 3)

by Ivy Asher

  “You did that?” Flint asks in surprise.

  “Well, not me exactly. A girl who looked like me, but she had black eyes and could move faster than was humanly possible and hit harder than a heavyweight fighter. Or so the rumors say.”

  Flint snorts out a laugh. “I bet they were all drug tested,” he states with a hollow chuckle.

  “They were,” I confirm. “Oddly, they came out clean, but what could be done? I, of course, don’t remember anythin’, not with the football players, or why exactly I attacked them, or what happened with Channing. They couldn’t press charges because there was no evidence, but at that point, I became more of a pariah than before. Gossip swarmed, that I instigated things and encouraged Mackenzie to lie. Those boys were near celebrities in our school, and most everyone took their side, so when they were attacked and Channing ended up dead...to say I was hated is an understatement,” I say bitterly. “My grades suffered from everythin’ that happened, and it was easy for them to kick me out in an effort to clean up the mess. So I moved back home, and here we are,” I tell them with a shrug.

  “If he wasn’t dead already, I’d send him to Hell myself,” Alder grumbles before meetin’ my gaze. “I’m sorry that happened to you and to your friend,” he tells me, his voice so sincere that it makes my chest squeeze.

  I give him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. I don’t say that there’s no point in bein’ sorry, because what’s done is done. Or out of all the times I’ve wanted to remember a tribulation, killin’ Channing is the one I wish I could recall the most. Not because I want confirmation that it was, in fact, me, but because I want to see him hurtin’ the way he hurt my precious friend. I want to watch him break, the way he broke her. That must be the demon in me.

  I sigh and tamp down my dark thoughts. After everythin’ that happened, I thought there must be somethin’ seriously wrong with me that I could think that way, but now that I know what I am, those dark thoughts don’t feel so illicit anymore. I don’t feel as though I need to be ashamed of them.

  Maybe this is the first step in acceptin’ what I am. I am demon, hear me roar. Or in my case, maybe more of a scrappy snarl, because that feels more my style. Yeah, if it means I can stop people like Channing from hurtin’ others, then I can definitely get on board with that.

  16

  “We’re here,” Alder says.

  I look up with surprise. I didn’t even realize we’d pulled up to the trailer park. I blame Flint’s hair playin’.

  We all shake off the seriousness of what we were just talkin’ about, but instead of draggin’ down my mood, I actually feel lighter. Like talkin’ to them about it helped lift a weight off me. I haven’t talked to anyone about it except for my parents. It was nice to have someone else to tell that deep dark secret to, and Flint and Alder didn’t judge me or even bat an eye. For that, I’m grateful.

  “Okay,” I say, unbucklin’ my seatbelt. “I’ll just go in and…” My voice trails off when I look over to see my daddy sittin’ on the small square of grass beneath the oak tree, sippin’ on sweet tea with his shotgun laid across his lap and Todd amblin’ around in the yard.

  The three of us watch as Todd runs over to him and drops a stick at his feet before my daddy picks it up and tosses it again.

  Flint’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “Is your daddy playing fetch with his pet gator?”

  I sigh. “Seems so.”

  “Wait a minute. Is that…” Alder squints and leans forward. “Is he throwing your scythe?”

  Now it’s my eyes buggin’ out of my head. “Oh my God.” I shove open the car door and jump out as fast as I can. “Daddy!”

  He looks up at the sound of my voice and sets his drink down in the cup holder he’s jimmy-rigged into the armrest.

  “Medley.”

  Uh oh. He called me my given name instead of honey girl, and I have a feelin’ I know the reason. Actually, reasons, plural, because it has everythin’ to do with still wearin’ last night’s clothes and walkin’ up with two male demons behind me.

  “Did you say Medley?” Mama’s voice pops out of the screen door at the same time that her head does.

  The door to the trailer squeaks open when she sees me hurryin’ up, and then two hands go onto her hips as she takes me in. “Medley Bell, what in the world are you doin’? I thought you were stayin’ at AnnaMae’s last night.”

  “Mama, not now,” I tell her, tryin’ to reach Todd. The bastard alligator sidesteps me like a puppy wantin’ me to play. I spin on my heel and go for the stick, tryin’ to snatch it out of Todd’s mouth, but the damn dinosaur retriever does that head shakin’ thing as soon as I get a hand around it, jerkin’ it right out of my grasp again.

  “Daddy!” I call in frustration as Todd scurries away. “Tell this overgrown lizard to drop it!”

  “He’s playin’,” Daddy says. “Besides, it’s just a stick.”

  “It’s actually a very dangerous Hell weapon,” Alder says, steppin’ up beside me.

  Daddy scowls at him, but I have a feelin’ that it has more to do with the fact that Alder drove me here and dared to speak, rather than his actual words. “Did you do anythin’ untoward with my daughter?”

  “Daddy!” I admonish.

  “Medley Bell, you know how we feel about you lyin’,” Mama says from the porch, and I let out a long sigh.

  “I am a grown-ass woman!” I holler at them, not even carin’ that we’re probably drawin’ every damn eye in the trailer park. They’re probably all in their trailers, peekin’ through the blinds right about now. It’s Sweetgreen. Everyone wants to be up in everyone else’s business.

  “Medley, stop raisin’ a racket and come inside for some lemonade. It’s too hot out there for arguin’.”

  I reach up and touch the smooth stones on my necklace, not because I feel a tribulation comin’ on, but because I am in serious need of some calm.

  “Alright, but tell Daddy to make Todd drop that. It’s not a stick to play fetch with. It’s my demon Hell scythe.”

  Mama bats away a mosquito. “Teddy Bell, you heard the girl.”

  Daddy sighs like I’m bein’ dramatic, but he shoots a whistle through his front teeth, makin’ Todd shimmy over and drop the stick at his feet again. “Good boy, Todd,” he croons, pattin’ him on the head before he reaches behind him to a bucket and tosses him a dead jackrabbit. Flint watches in rapt fascination.

  I snatch up the wooden stick, which thankfully isn’t covered in teeth marks. Apparently, it’s sturdier than it looks. I give my daddy a glare, but he just shrugs. “Don’t look at me. Your mama found it in your room when she was washin’ your sheets. I thought I’d put it to use. It’s the perfect size for Todd.”

  I give a long sufferin’ sigh. “No more playin’ fetch with my Hell weapon, okay?”

  “Fine,” he says, wavin’ me off as he gets to his feet. “I’m runnin’ to the corner store. You get rid of these boys by the time I get back.”

  I roll my eyes, but Mama gets on his case this time. “Teddy Bell, don’t think I don’t know that you’re goin’ to the corner store for some chew! You’re supposed to quit!”

  Daddy pretends not to hear her, and she shakes her head at his retreatin’ back before settlin’ her gaze on us. “Well, come in, you three. Don’t just stand there. I made pie.”

  “Oh, I love pie,” Flint says as he claps his hands together and rubs them in anticipation.

  I carry the stick with me while Alder follows behind. As soon as I get through the door, I hold it up. “You really just handed this over to Daddy? It’s all dirty now, Mama,” I say with irritation.

  She takes it from me and pats my head. “Oh, stop gettin’ your panties in a knot. Nothin’ a good scrubbin’ can’t help.”

  She turns and takes it to the kitchen, and I catch Alder and Flint shakin’ their heads with small smiles on their faces. “What?” I ask them.

  “You and your parents,” Flint supplies. “Nothing much fazes ya, huh? Y�
�all just take it all in stride, no matter what it is.”

  I blink at him, realizin’ he’s right. I do get that from my parents. Maybe that’s why I’ve reacted the way I have to everythin’. I’ve learned my whole life to just run with whatever comes my way, so why would this be any different?

  “HB, you go get cleaned up before your daddy gets home and is reminded about what his little girl was up to last night,” Mama tells me as she raises a red eyebrow and looks over my club gear and melted makeup with a critical eye.

  “I wasn’t up to anythin’, I’ll have you know,” I defend.

  “From the looks of it, you got yourself all done up and then went and sat in the sun. You look like melted plastic run over.”

  I sigh at the lovely visual she paints and hate that I feel like melted plastic run over. But she’s right. It’s nothin’ a dozen makeup wipes and a cool shower can’t fix. I catch Alder checkin’ out my ass as my mama fusses over them to get them comfortable and plied with drinks and food at the table.

  Yeah, a very cold shower should do the trick.

  “Fine, Mama, I’ll go clean up. But no baby pictures, or stories, or trying to marry me off behind my back, okay?” I warn.

  “That happened one time, and Marietta’s grandson looked like a lovely boy,” she defends.

  I just roll my eyes and head back toward my room to grab clothes before I head to the bathroom. If I were a good host, I’d check that Alder and Flint were okay first, but I know Mama will take care of them. She’ll have them unraveled quicker than thread on a spool. She has a gift for it. Well, that and showin’ visitors that it’s possible to gain twenty pounds in a mere hour when you’re in the Bell household. Her cookin’ is that good. It’s no wonder I’ve got extra junk in the trunk.

  After pickin’ out clothes, I head right for the bathroom and close myself in. I turn to the mirror and have to stifle a scream at my reflection. It’s so much worse than I thought it could be. It’s like bein’ out for the night and feelin’ yourself, but then you get home and have mascara smudged under your eye and somethin’ stuck in your teeth. You’re all wonderin’ why no one pointed it out so you could fix it.

  I don’t have mascara simply smudged under my eye though, I have it drug down half my face. My winged eyeliner just up and flew away at some point in the night, and I’m pretty sure I sweat off my flawless foundation application durin’ hour one of Operation: clean up the bar you trashed.

  Alder and Flint have been checkin’ me out and insinuatin’ shit all night, but one look at my reflection and I’m startin’ to question their taste. I mean really, I look like hell. What in the world is wrong with them?

  I pull makeup wipes from the drawer and get to work degreasin’ myself. When that’s done, I start the shower and pull my waist-long hair out of the half bun, half mullet thing I’m rockin’, and comb through the mint green tresses. I peel myself out of my clubwear and step under the spray. I squeal loudly as the ice-cold water hits me, and I nearly slip, but I catch myself on the shower wall before I fall.

  “Medley, you okay in there?” Alder asks, and a shiver runs up my spine at his deep voice.

  I roll my eyes at his presence on the other side of the cheap door. My daddy likes to think I’m the Virgin Mary when it comes to sex, but my mama on the other hand would encourage me to hook up on the kitchen table so long as it got a ring on my finger and hope for a grandbaby in my belly soon to follow. I have no doubt she sent him back here in response to my squeal in hopes I’ll slip out of the shower and land at my own weddin’.

  “I’m fine, Alder,” I call out. “Tell my mama, nice try.”

  He chuckles softly, clearly pickin’ up on my mama’s game too.

  “You sure you don’t need me to come in and check that everything is okay?” he questions, his tone just a hint lower and drippin’ with suggestion.

  I clench my thighs together and look down to double check that the water dial is set on the coldest of cold.

  Now all I can picture is that lavender skin steppin’ into the shower and me lickin’ water droplets off his tattooed arms as he checks to see if my vagina is okay with his cock. I try not to moan at that thought or at the image of the two of us wet and tangled around one another as I nibble on his full lips and whisper all the dirty things I want him to do to me.

  “No, I’m good,” I squeak out, definitely not picturing him leanin’ against the door, hard as a rock in his pants, and just hopin’ I’ll invite him in.

  Nope, I’m definitely not fantasizin’ right now that he doesn’t listen and storms in anyway so he can teach me all his delicious demon ways when it comes to pleasure. I bet he and Flint have some damn good tricks. I moan out loud.

  “Don’t go playing without us, Medley,” Alder states evenly, his voice barely audible through the door, but I heard it, and I have to bite back another surprised squeal because I thought he’d walked away already.

  I pull my hand away from my lower abdomen, not even aware that it was snakin’ down to give the ol’ clit a turn or two. This time, I do hear his footfall leadin’ away from the bathroom door, and I’m left reelin’ about what he said.

  I suppose that officially answers my question about Alder’s interest too. But just what in the hell am I gonna do with the both of them? Those two are more than a handful.

  But the thing is, as attracted as I am to the both of them, I may very well have to guard a gate to Hell forever with those two. Maybe it would be wise to guard my vagina too so I don’t go and make things a hell of a lot more complicated.

  Then again...when has complicated ever really not been a part of my life? I pretty much thrive on it. But until things are worked out a bit more and we know if I am actually like this Delta chick and can help them, then I probably need to be smart about this. Which means I need to keep their yummy parts out of my yummy parts until we know what’s up once and for all.

  I shampoo, rinse, condition, scrub, and shave like I’m a member of a NASCAR pit crew so I can finish quickly before Mama does anythin’ embarrassin’. I’m pullin’ on underwear, jean shorts, a bra, and a wife-beater tank top in no time. I quickly comb through my hair and leave it down to dry. Lotion is applied liberally on all my limbs and face, and then I’m headed back down the hallway toward the livin’ room in twenty minutes flat.

  “She calls ’em nakey naps. Says she sleeps better in the nude after a cool shower. And she’s grumpier than a possum on Tuesday if she doesn’t get at least two a week,” I hear my mama declare. I pick up my pace.

  “What are you tellin’ them?” I question as I rush down the hallway with a scoldin’ look on my face.

  “I was just chattin’ with them about your likes and dislikes,” she announces innocently, like that’s not weird at all.

  I shake my head at her and open my mouth to tell her to quit it when I spot a police car pull up outside. I watch curiously, but my heart leaps up into my chest when I see an officer go round to the back and help my daddy out of the car.

  He’s holdin’ somethin’ to his head, and he looks rattled. I’m out the screen door in the blink of an eye and jumpin’ down the steps to get to him. Mama’s right behind me, and I hear her gasp as she takes in the ice pack he’s holdin’ to his head and his now rumpled clothes.

  “What on earth happened?” she shouts from behind me, and then we both converge on my daddy and the two officers who accompanied him home.

  “There was an incident at the Kum & Go on the corner, ma’am,” a tall officer informs us, shuttin’ the door to the back of the patrol car as Daddy wraps first Mama and then me up in a hug.

  “It was the strangest thing. One minute, I was grabbin’ a drink, and the next, this man came up behind me and put me in a chokehold. He kept sayin’ he was takin’ me to the Ophidian and that I need to just hand over the key. I tried to get away, but he was damn strong. The clerk did his best to help me, but I got smacked in the head in the process.”

  Mama and I both gasp in shock at what he’
s sayin’, and the officers start to fill in the details about what happened after they arrived. I take my daddy in as I hear them talk about the person who attacked him and how he was either hopped up on drugs, mentally ill, or both.

  “They tased him four times before he finally went down. I thought they might have to shoot the man,” Daddy confesses, and I’m completely horrified by what he’s sayin’. I look over to find Flint and Alder watchin’ us from the top of the porch stairs, and I can tell by the look on their faces that somethin’ is up.

  I watch them as the cops help Daddy into the house while he and Mama argue about him turnin’ down the offer to go get checked out at the ER. His stubbornness wins, and with a glass of sweet tea, a plate of cookies, and my mama’s endless thank yous, the officers finally leave.

  I walk into the kitchen and make a fresh ice pack and then hand it over while I fix Alder and Flint with a steady gaze.

  “Spill it. I see you two frettin’, and it’s freakin’ me out. Do you know what’s goin’ on?” I ask.

  Mama and Daddy’s attention also goes to the demons, and the room grows quiet.

  Alder hesitates for a second. “I think it’s too much of a coincidence—the incident and the club and now this. Quite frankly, I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “What happened at the club?” Mama and Daddy both ask, but I hold up a hand.

  “So this has to do with me?” I ask, dread fillin’ my chest at the thought of somethin’ happenin’ to my parents because of me.

  “It’s starting to look that way,” Flint declares.

  “I’ll look into what’s going on, but until I do, I don’t think it’s wise that you and your parents stay here. I don’t think it’s safe,” Alder says.

  His words hit me like a punch you see comin’ but can’t stop. They said I could be a target, that other demons might come for me. How did I not think that my parents could easily become collateral damage? Horrified and feelin’ insanely guilty, I glance at my parents. They’re everythin’ to me, and I can’t let anythin’ happen to them.