Page 97 of These Monstrous Ties
The rest of the Unsaints nod, Lucifer included. He shoves Brooklin forward, and then me and him find our way to the elevator. I punch the number eight, and we go up.
Nicolas is lying motionless on the floor, face down.
I can’t find it in me to care.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Halloween Night: Present
My brother doesn’t cometo the door.
It doesn’t matter. The damn thing is unlocked. Trey stands guard, but when he sees us, he moves aside without a word.
I walk into my brother’s room.
It’s the same size as mine. I know he also uses the penthouse too, sometimes, but he liked being above me. Turns out, he had liked being above me in more ways than one, but I’d never before known the sick irony of it until now.
Lucifer slams the door closed, the lock clicking behind us. I scan the entrance hall, looking for any signs of which room my brother might be in.
I can smell liquor and the sharp tang of wine, like bottles have broken somewhere in the room. I set the guns down by the door, keeping only my knife. I don’t care if Jeremiah gets his hands on one of the weapons. I know he’ll likely have his own in here anyway.
Lucifer stands at my side.
“Jeremiah!” I scream, letting my knife scrape down the hall, along the walls. “Come out and play with your sister!” I taunt, my voice loud, my throat raw.
Nothing.
Silence answers me.
I pass room after room, making my way to the back of the unit, and then I see the last door is ajar. His bedroom door.
I hadn’t been in here much during my year at the Rain mansion, but I know it’s his. The smell of alcohol is sharper here, and I kick the door all the way open.
“Jeremiah?” I call out. “Are you ready to play?”
I step inside without waiting for an answer. I glance at Lucifer over my shoulder, and he nods, correctly reading my look.
I don’t want him to come in until Jeremiah knows I’m in here.
I flip on the light inside my brother’s room and let my eyes adjust. Immediately, I see the balcony door is open. His bed is made, all white and red sheets and comforters. There are, indeed, liquor bottles smashed on the floor, rivers of pink champagne and brown liquid forming a disgusting puddle by the balcony door. I’m thankful I’m wearing my combat boots.
“Sid,” Lucifer calls softly to me. He leans against the doorway.
I raise a brow, impatient. Ready to get to my brother.
“Be careful. I won’t wait long.”
I smile at him. “I know,” I whisper.
And then I carefully step over the spilled liquor and broken glass, and shove my way onto the balcony, nudging the door open wider as I do.
Jeremiah is sitting in a leather chair, ankle over knee.
He has a glass dangling from his fingertips, full of something clear. Vodka, probably.
He glances up at me, his pale green eyes widening, just a fraction of a second. He has a mask on, a masquerade-type thing, all black and only covering around his eyes and the bridge of his nose. He looks almost like Batman.
If Batman was into his sister and fucking up her world.
