“What the fuck!” I gasped, stepping backward until I’m colliding against a hard body. Spinning around, my eyes shot straight to Bishop. I searched him for more answers, but as per usual, he guarded his emotions with a wall that was probably built from all the people who died at his hands. His eyes were always evasively beckoning, and could summon me within seconds, but he had kept too much from me for too long. Now I was internally battling with myself on whether I trusted him or not. I tilted my head, scanning his features for something. A simple flick of light to pass over his face—but I got nothing. My shoulders slacked in defeat. I didn’t trust him anymore. I could no longer trust any of them. My mother, who was actually my adoptive mother, was alive. She didn’t shoot herself, and all my brain could manage to think was: well, shit, I got bullied all those years for fucking nothing! That could have something to do with the fact that she had fucked Bishop, though. And then I remembered who else just arrived back from the dead along with her. Khales. Nothing was making sense to me—as per usual. My body hummed with a numbness so bleak that the only thing I could feel was the trembling of my fingers and the sweating of my palms. You will not look weak right now. Through all the revelations that had been laid out tonight, and between the bloodshed, I could feel myself slowly slipping again. Losing touch with what was happening in front of me. Was it possible to have a mental break from the people around you driving you so fucking crazy? If not, I was probably going to be the first one to have it happen to.
Hector raised a cigar to his lip, lit it up and then blew out a cloud of fog. “Madison, my son never killed Khales, or, so I’ve just found out tonight.”
I turned back to face Bishop. “I thought you told me you did?” I fought to add to that sentence just like you told me a lot of fucking things. I hissed the ‘me’ to accentuate how livid I was by yet another one of his lies.
“Well, this is all grand, but that’s not why I’m here.” Khales stepped forward and my eyes cut to her.
“Don’t you fucking come closer.” Then I glanced at my mom. The person I mourned for years after her apparent death. I realized, there was a lot that went on between her and my father that I probably didn’t know. But even though my gut churned with distrust when I looked at her, I trusted my dad. Amongst all the chaos that he had put me through, I believed he had a good heart, well, at least when it came to me, anyway. I’d been wrong about this type of shit in the past, so at the same time, I wasn’t entirely sure. I was overwhelmed, so overwhelmed that my hand started to convulse, and my legs quivered. A sharp zap started shooting through my bones, leading to my knees, and then suddenly, I was on the gravel road with stones imprinting into the flesh of my knees and palms. Silent tears began to trickle down my face, and in my peripheral, I caught Bishop sinking down beside me, his arm curling around my back. I froze as every sound, every ounce of talking that was going on, started to slip into white noise. The revelations, this world, it had been slowly breaking me since I first stepped foot into the Riverside Prep marble hall. The finery that screamed elusive, now roared at me in caution. I could feel my thoughts tremble as they slowly started to lose the fight. I thought I had my mom, I thought I’d always have her, even when she was dead, I still thought I had her. But it turned out, I had nothing but plastic promises that were delivered by a cheap imitation of what a mother should be.
The hands that were clamped around my upper arms tightened and began to shake me. I stared at Bishop instantly, but I had nothing else to give. Nothing. My mouth opened, and in my mind, I was ready to tell him to take me away from all this. To whisk me away from the imposters, and the fakes, but…I didn’t trust him. One thing was clear through all of this mess. “You loved her.”
His eyes searched mine cautiously. “What?”
“You loved her.” This time it came out as though I was more confirming it within myself and less like I was asking him a question, because deep down, I knew. He must have felt something for her to not have ended her life all those years ago.
“Madison.” A voice so familiar, it lit up my memory bank like a matchbox full of explosives and drifted through the frosted midnight air, lashing over old wounds that have now opened again.
My eyes closed in reply. “Don’t.”
“Madison, there’s—”
My eyes slammed open and I narrowed them at her, finally, having enough courage to face the monster head-on. I slowly, and on shaky legs, stood from the asphalt, dusting off my pants and squaring my shoulders. I faintly heard a car pull up behind me, but ignored it. All of my focus was on her. I stepped forward and watched as her eyes darted around the place in panic, probably unsure of how I was going to react. I considered lunging at her but figured enough blood had been shed tonight. As much as they were all so used to witnessing scenes so graphic, I was not. She looked the same, too, well, somewhat the same—which angered me further. I guessed I would have liked to think that while I was mourning her fake death, she wasn’t out living a lavish life. My eyes found her wrist, where a white gold watch was fastened around it. It had enough bling sparkling around the face of it to make Flavor Flav jealous. Yeah, she was definitely living a pretentious life.
Laughter cracked out of my throat before I could stop it. I was so incredibly angry at everyone, but I was going to start with her. “You know I’ve just spent the last few seconds hoping that the reason why you faked your own death, the reason why I had spent months mourning your death, crying for you, was because you were held captive somewhere against your will. Because what kind of mother would do that to her own daughter, right? But it turns out...” My eyes fluttered back down to her watch, and then lazily dragged up and down her body, examining the way her silk top hung off her lean arms, and the pearl beads that fell around her neck were clearly visible, and let’s not forget the way her face appeared freshly made up of the finest—probably Chanel— makeup. Nope, no smudged eyeliner here. No sunken black eyes, bruises or scarred flesh. Just another housewife pissing away too much money and pretending like they give a shit. “—You’re a fraud all on your own.”
“—Madison…” She strode forward, but I yanked my hand away from her as she reached for it.
“Don’t. I don’t want to see you—or talk to you.”
“Madison.” A voice thundered out from behind me and I stilled. All thoughts, all movements, paralyzed by that imperious tone.
Turning around, my eyes landed on my dad. “Did you know?”
He observed me, and all though I couldn’t make out his expression very well, the headlights from multiple cars that were parked up had somewhat given me a sneak into it.
He exhaled after a beat. “Come home. I will explain there.”
“Madison…” Bishop decided to add in his two cents, his hand coming to mine.
I recoiled. “Don’t fucking touch me, and everyone shut the fuck up and stop saying my goddamn name!”
His jaw clenched, then he dropped his hands to his sides. Taking one step at a time, I headed straight to my dad’s car and slid into the passenger’s seat.
“Kitty, wanna talk?” Nate must’ve hopped in behind me a second later.
“No.” Was all I could manage. Sometimes, I wished I was just a normal hormonal teenager. Battling acne prone skin the night before formal instead of living through this hell.
* * *
Slamming the front door closed, I ignored the constant glaring from my dad and Nate and headed straight for the stairs. Taking them two at a time, I wanted to quickly reach the safe confinement of my bedroom. My bubble. It never failed me. Even if at this moment, I disliked some of the people living under the same roof.
I felt as though my mind was spinning on a never-ending Ferris wheel powered by NOS, and all I could think about was how before this night, everything was starting to make sense. Things were slipping into place a little better. But now, my whole life and what I thought I knew had again, been shredded into itty-bitty pieces—actually, the pieces were looking rather irreconcilable at this point. But like in true me life fashion, just when I thought I had gathered up all the pieces, ready to connect them back together, they get smacked out of my hand and scattered over the fricking Pacific Ocean. Someone is taking the piss out of my life.
Hitting the faucet on the shower, my eyes came to my hands. The dark red blood now crusted over my skin. My chest rose and fell heavily, panic slowly starting to ooze in. Without another thought, and through a shaky breath, I got into the shower and stood under the scorching hot water. Clothes and all. Running the palm of my hands over my face and pushing my hair back, I watched as the water that was pooled at my feet began to slowly run red. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, descending down my face. Swiping at my cheeks, irritated, I slowly undressed, throwing my clothes into a pile near the sink. I helped kill someone tonight. I dry retched, my hand flying up to cover my mouth as my throat clogged with vomit. I quickly dashed out of the shower, leaning over the toilet just in time to unload the contents into the bowl.
“Kitty…” Nate walked into the bathroom just as I was wiping the residue off of my mouth. He shut the door behind himself and leaned against the door, putting one leg up to rest against it. We were so far gone past the awkward-naked phase, that I didn’t even bat an eyelash when he entered. He had seen me naked more than any brother should. Step or not.
“Nate, please,” I pleaded, snatching the mouthwash and taking a swig before spitting it out in the sink. I closed the toilet lid and took a seat. “I helped kill someone tonight, my boyfriend is a liar, and owns his very own fucking wardrobe of Narnia, only instead of walking through and seeing lions and shit, I’m walking into a dark smoky past filled with secrets—all of which he is obviously hiding from me—Then there’s my mom, who isn’t really my mom, but I have thought she was my mom all my life—who I thought shot herself, but is actually still alive—and had also slept with my somewhat boyfriend. Did I miss anything? Oh yeah, I’m a freaking Venari, not a Montgomery, so my whole life is a fucking lie.”
Nate came closer until his hand was wrapping around my arm, and then before I could protest, he scooped his other under my upper thigh, lifting me up off the floor. “Get in the shower, Kitty.” I couldn’t control it anymore, sobs broke out and tears spilled down my cheeks. It wasn’t a pretty cry either, it was an ugly cry. The kind people make memes out of.
Nate growled, and then squeezed me into his chest harder before stepping in, under the water with me still wrapped up in his arms.
“Why are you like this?” I asked through hiccups, lifting my head off his shoulder to look into his eyes. Water was pelting down against mine, but I ignored it, I ignored the sting from the water hitting my eyes, because looking into his felt like home. Nate felt more like home to me than this damn house did. I knew right then and there that I would be okay in life. I’d make it. As long as he and I were always on good terms. I could never lose Nate and survive it.
He paused, seeming to ponder over how he should reply. “I’m not like this with… everyone.”
“Just me?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. Everyone sort of knew the answer to that question. Nate was… picky about who he allowed into his life. It was all part of the charm. In saying that, all of the Kings were like that, and I was beginning to think it had something to do with their heritage.
“And…” I knew that he was about to say Tillie, but I offered him a small smile instead, so he didn’t have to say her name out loud. I knew he loved me. He once said he was in love with me, and I’m unsure if he still felt that way, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt that if it ever came down to it, it would always be Tillie. They had something, shared something, something that I recognized, only because I was the exact same with Bishop. When Tillie disappeared, it pained him. So agonizingly so that he never spoke of it. We shared that common bond, in a way.
“I know,” I broke off in a whisper, patting his big bicep. “and you can let me down now.” He complied, slowly placing me on my feet. I stepped under the water as soon as I was grounded, grabbing the soap and squeezing some into my hand. “Take these off.” I pinched at the elastic band of his basketball shorts, but his hand flew out to stop me. My eyes snapped to his and a chill shuddered over my spine. His eyes darkened, but remained weak and lazy, yet totally on fire, and that’s when I realized we needed to draw the line—again.
“Sorry,” I muttered, turning and rinsing out my hair, my back now facing him.
“You know how much I want you, Madison, but it’s never going to happen. It’s best we don’t tease each other with what-ifs.”
“I know,” I whispered my answer, turning back around and twisting my long hair in one big knot. I reached for his cheek and then gently pressed my lips to his. It was supposed to be the kind of kiss you give your first love before saying goodbye, harmless, tentative, warm, soft, comfortable, familiar, hot, sensual, sexual… oh oh…
I jerked back to search his eyes, my body slightly caught up in the moment.
He groaned painfully, his hand clutching his crotch. “Get out, Kitty, before I fuck you so hard, you’ll be calling me Bishop.” That was effective, it was like an ice bucket getting doused over my head. I stepped out of the shower, wrapping my silk robe around myself and then brushing my teeth. My slightly bloodied clothes caught my attention just as I was reaching for the door handle. “What will happen to the body?”
The shower cut off and then Nate strutted out, in all his naked glory out of the corner of my eye. He followed my line of sight, down to the clothes, and his eyes connected with mine again. “That will get handled, as will those. I’ll bag ‘em, you’ll never have to look at that shit again.” His tone was light as if he was talking about football, or who he had slept with the last weekend.
“You speak like you do it every night.”
“I do it enough,” was all he said. I pulled open my side of the bathroom, heading straight for my bed. Yanking back the sheets and cover, I slipped into the cool, clean sheets. Inhaling through the smell of fresh lemon and lavender, I turned to face my patio door and kept my eyes glued on the stars that speckled through the dark sphere. I had witnessed too many things tonight. Things that I could not explain, and things I’m not entirely sure that I wanted to explain, but I couldn’t hide or run from the fact that it was all there, in front of me. As bright as the glittering stars in the sky.
I helped kill someone tonight, and although my soul may be too far gone to save now, tomorrow was a new day, and I wouldn’t shed another tear about this night again.