Page 87 of These Monstrous Ties
As Mayhem and I make our way to the fire, I see Lucifer, and he’s still got his arm around that girl. But somehow, he has the audacity to narrow his eyes on me and Mayhem as we approach him. The fucking audacity.
I paste a smile on my face that isn’t really all that fake, thanks to Natalie and her drugs.
The girl with the blonde ponytail and cut-off shorts offers me a smile, too. A real one. I incline my head to her, but it seems like the crowd around the bonfire has grown quiet as Lucifer silently appraises us.
“Good turnout, huh?” Mayhem asks, and I hear the smirk in his voice. I wonder if he knows what’s coming next. Because I sure as hell don’t. As I take in Lucifer’s midnight blue eyes, his clenched jaw, I kinda don’t want to tell him.
I don’t regret it, because he sure as hell doesn’t look like he regrets his arm around this girl. But I feel something like guilt. I try to tell myself it’s stupid. Because it is. Me and Lucifer are not together.
His eyes flick to Mayhem’s, who, for his part, seems totally chill.
“I’m Ophelia,” the girl pipes up, holding out her hand. “Most people call me O.”
I glance at her hand and think about not taking it. But this isn’t about her. This is about Lucifer being a shit and me being petty. I shake her hand warmly.
“I’m Sid,” I answer. “Most people…” I trail off and shrug, dropping her hand. “Don’t call me.” I force a laugh, and Mayhem laughs at my side.
Ophelia smiles. Lucifer doesn’t. He hasn’t said a fucking word.
Mayhem pulls us both closer to Lucifer and nudges him. I glance around at everyone, and see they’re still talking amongst themselves but they’re also darting glances at us. Even Atlas has Natalie back down on the ground, and while he’s wrapped an arm around her waist, he’s watching us, his mouth set in a thin line. I can feel the fucking tension in this place, and there’s a few dozen people here. Why should Lucifer’s mood dictate everything?
“You okay, bro?” Mayhem asks.
I think that might be pushing it. He’s clearly not okay. He removes his arm from Ophelia, who, for her part, gets dragged into conversation with a giggling girl that was behind her.
Lucifer stands in front of both me and Mayhem. They’re the same height, and while Lucifer is a little leaner, he looks a little meaner, too. Especially right now.
I glance at Mayhem. The fucker is actually smiling.
“Why did you two come out of the house together?” Lucifer asks. The first fucking thing he’s said to me at this party. The first fucking thing he’s said to me since yesterday.
I laugh out loud and his eyes narrow further. “We both live there,” I point out. “For now.”
The damn waiter that the Unsaints hired comes to stand by us with a tray in his white-gloved hand, and drinks in black plastic cups atop it. I pluck one from the tray and he flashes me a smile. He’s probably in his forties, with a sleek combover. He nods his head in Lucifer’s direction, but Lucifer ignores him. Where do these kids find these people?
I start to down my drink as Mayhem takes one, too, and the waiter wanders off.
“You haven’t spoken to each other since we’velivedhere,” Lucifer says, crossing his arms. His eyes flick to mine and Mayhem’s looped arms, and back up to Mayhem’s face. “Get the fuck off her.”
Mayhem doesn’t move. He drinks from his cup and I from mine, and then when he’s done, smacking his lips together, he sighs. “If this—” he lifts up our joined arms for a second, “—is what you’re worried about, well, bro, you’re gonna be really pissed when I tell you where I just—”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence.
Lucifer takes the cup from his hand and throws the rest of it in his face, and then he tackles him to the ground. Mayhem unthreads his arm from mine just in time to stop me from getting pulled down, too.
Lucifer’s fists start flying into Mayhem’s face and Mayhem lays there, taking it. Atlas runs over, Natalie trailing behind him, her eyes as wide as saucers, and soon there’s a giant circle around the boys. People are chanting “Unsaints!” and I’m somehow in themiddleof the circle, which means people are looking at meandthem.
Ophelia has the gall to step up beside me. She nudges me. “What the hell?” she asks, in shock. I wonder how often the Unsaints fight. Maybe never?
I shrug. Mayhem has started fighting back. He flips Lucifer over, his hand around his throat. Lucifer reaches for Mayhem’s eyes and I cringe.
Mayhem laughs, turns his head.
Then Ezra steps into the circle.
He walks calmly over to Mayhem and pulls him off of Lucifer and to his feet. But Lucifer gets off the ground and grabs Mayhem by the collar. Ezra tries to pry his fingers off, but I think they really need Cain out here, the biggest of them all, to put a stop to this shit. Atlas hasn’t joined the fray, but he’s still watching.
“Back the fuck up!” Ezra says, his deep voice a growl. His eyes find the crowd gathered around and he waves the hand not holding Mayhem toward them. “And fucking find something else to stare at or you can get the fuck out of here.”
