Page 51 of Pray for Scars
We parkdown past the row of cars in front of Lucifer’s house. I hop out, take the gun with me. Natalie and Ria stumble out, too, looking dazed as I meet them around the back of my brother’s car.
Ria’s eyes dart to the gun. “No,” she whispers quietly, glancing over her shoulder as if someone might see us in the darkness out here. I can hear music thumping from inside Lucifer’s house, all grey stone and an iron gate around it. The one I just fucking escaped from.
On a scale of 1 to 10, how fucking stupid is this idea?I’ve never been good at math.
Every car on this street is a luxury vehicle and I want to set all of them on fucking fire. My brother’s included.
“You’re fucking high,” I tell Ria, lifting up the gun. “I’m not leaving this.”
Natalie is leaned against the car, her eyes closed tight. I know as soon as we go inside that house, she’s going to blab to Atlas about what just happened, and I don’t blame her.
“You can’t get in with that,” Ria hisses at me, her hands in the pockets of her jeans. She seems much calmer now, without Jeremiah in the picture.
I can relate.
“Can’t get in?” I ask her, arching a brow. “You seem to come around here often enough.” I nod toward the house. “Who the fuck is gonna stop me?”
Ria glances over her shoulder again, and I’m trying to tamp down on my anger, on my desire to get to Lucifer. My hands are fucking itching, wanting them to be around his throat, to dig into that vein on his beautiful neck.
“There areguards, Sid. Leave it in the car.” She turns to go, as if she’ll leave me here. “You’ll be lucky to get in as it is.”
Where the fuck were the guards yesterday?I think, but don’t say anything.
I sigh, heavily, throw the gun in the car, open the center console. I rifle around with some papers, napkins, a plastic baggie full of white powder that I briefly think about snorting for the fuck of it, and then I see it. A small knife.
I pocket it, close the door, nod to Ria.
She turns to Natalie, holds out her hand. “Come on,” she says to her, her voice soft.
Natalie slowly takes her hand, and together, the three of us walk up the road.
The gate is open to Lucifer’s mansion, and we walk down the stone driveway. I see a three-car garage, which is closed, and sure enough, there are two guards dressed all in black with guns on their hips at the entranceway.
The shorter of the two inclines his head to Ria, but the taller one, taking a drag on his cigarette, eyes me up and down.
We stop in front of them and Ria darts a glance my way.
“Sid Rain?” the guy asks with a bit of a laugh. A chill slides down my spine, that he knows who I am. He shakes his head. “I’m not so sure you’re welcome here—”
“She is,” Ria cuts the guy off, her voice full of authority. “Lucifer wants her here.”
No, the fuck he doesn’t.
I smile, probably unconvincingly, at the guard. He scowls at me, exhales smoke in the cool night, but then he shrugs. “Whatever.”
I resist the urge to slit his goddamn throat, and we walk past them, beneath the stone archway that leads to black double doors.
Ria pushes one open, glances back at me. “You won’t have long.” Then her and Ria hurry through the house.
I slip inside behind them before the door closes, the music—Breaking Down,I Prevail—so fucking loud I can’t even hear myself think, let alone try to listen for Lucifer’s raspy voice.
I see people down the hall, crowded in the living room. See Ezra, a bottle in his hand as he watches something out of my sight. I see Cain’s back, a girl pushed up against the wall in front of him, his hands in her hair.
I hear Atlas call out a cheerful, “Hey, baby,” to Natalie, and I see Mayhem leave the kitchen, his eyes finding Ria’s. She’s blocking their view of me, and I take advantage of it just before Mayhem’s arms wrap around Ria, tugging her close to him in a possessive way. I head to the stairs, quiet as a fucking mouse.
I don’t know if Lucifer is down there, but I saw all of his boys, so I might as well scope the rest of the place out before I announce my presence. Or before one of the girls snitches on me, which could be literally any single fucking second.
I clench the knife in my fist, stop at the top of the stairs, sweeping my eyes down the hall, remembering Lucifer’s bedroom.
