Page 82 of These Monstrous Ties
So instead of going to him, instead of touching him, I get up and start to walk inside. And even as he whispers my name like a desperate plea, I don’t look back.
Instead, I run right into Atlas, the door closing behind me.
Atlas takes my upper arms in his calloused hands and grins. It’s goofy.
“Get that fucking frown off your face,” he says lightly. “Tomorrow night we’re having a goddamned party.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Present
I protest.I complain. I bitch. I moan. But it turns out the Unsaints don’t give a flying fuck about my feelings, because the next day, when the sun begins to fall behind the river, the little house in the park is fucking packed.
I work up the nerve to ask Mayhem if Ria is coming. He’s wearing black, ripped jeans, and his baby blue eyes narrow on me.
“No,” he answers, then takes a hit from his blunt as he walks down the stairs of the porch, wandering off.
Well, then.
That officially means I won’t know anyone here. But the Unsaints.
I take a drink from Atlas, who shoves a black plastic cup in my hand. All of this reminds me too much of that night, but we’re not going to the asylum, Lucifer promised me. He said that’s for Unsaint night. And Halloween night is still two days away.
I drinkallof the vodka soda Atlas gave me, while he watches.
He blinks at me, a girl hanging off his arm, grinning at me with narrowed pupils. I wonder what drug she’s on, and if I can have some.
“You just…” Atlas trails off, his dark eyes going from the empty drink in my hand to my face. “You just slammed that down.”
I nod. “Didn’t you go to university? That’s what kids do, right?”
He scoffs. “We’re older than you.”
Apparently, they are. By a few years, but who’s counting? I don’t give a fuck.
I hold my cup out to him, shake it a little. “More?” I plead.
He grins and takes the cup. “My kinda girl.” He turns, disentangling himself from the girl on his arm. He smacks her ass and winks. “Be right back.” He looks to me. “Oh, uh, Sid, this is Natalie, Nat, Sid.”
She frowns at him and he smacks her ass again. She releases a giggle, then stumbles toward me on the porch. There are people scattered about the lawn, talking and drinking, and a fire is starting up under Ezra’s hands, which is unsurprising. I’m sure he’s the one that started it that night. Someone—one of the Unsaints—brought half a dozen kegs here, and there’s a goddamn butler wearing white fucking gloves in the middle of the park handing out drinks, too.
Not to mention the men in guns lining it. Because this is still a public park.
But these are the Unsaints. They’ve funded all of it.
I haven’t seen Lucifer since I left him on the porch yesterday, and I haven’t looked for him. I hope he has fun. Without me.
“How do you know Atlas?” Natalie asks me, a little breathlessly. I really want to know what she’s having, and how I can get some, too. She takes my hand and pulls me to the porch steps. I sink down beside her, feeling dizzy from the vodka.
How do I know Atlas?
I realize then that I don’t know what people know in this city. If they know exactly what the Unsaints are. The Society of 6.
I don’t ask. I don’t wanna be on a hit list for telling everyone. I mean, it’s no secret they have Lover’s Death and the Death Oath and Unsaint night, but do people think that’s some weird college kid prank?
I shrug. “Met him through Lucifer.”
Her brown eyes widen. She’s got dark hair piled on her head in an elaborate, braided bun. She’s wearing a yellow dress, long bell sleeves, and brown boots. She’s got a Bohemian vibe going on that seems like it’ll suit Atlas. At least, for tonight.
