Page 44 of Like Grim Death: Part One
I don’t think about any of that.
Instead, I’m in the gym in our basement.
My thigh brushes his.
He casually puts his arm around me, adjusting his backward hat with his free hand, a smile in his dark eyes.“He’s oblivious sometimes, isn’t he? He doesn’t really see you some days. He’s always been like that. Only focusing on what he wants in the moment, ignoring all the rest.”
I take a breath, inhaling the scents of the forest. Pine, which makes me think of the demon Lucifer himself, and wet pavement from the rain this evening.
I keep walking, my boots making awhooshingnoise against the asphalt as I do. The drive curves to the left, the trees following the manmade passage. I follow too, and I hear an owl hoot in the night.
The sound makes me smile, reminding me of cracking my window open in West Virginia, listening to the lullaby of the forests in the mountains.
For a second, a pang of longing hits. I think of Mom. She was a terrible parent, but… I wonder if she could have been better, if she hadmore.Maybe I’m just making excuses for her.
After all, Maverick has a lot. He’s still a murderer, isn’t he?
Maybe we can’t truly fight who we really are.
I run my tongue over my teeth, trying not to think of all the things I don’t know about him, and what makes him who he is.
Distracting me, I catch the first glimpse of Atlas’s house, gray, jagged stone with dark blue shutters that look black in the night.
I smile to myself, wondering what he’ll do when he sees me at the door. For a moment, I consider the possibility he might not open it. But I think his curiosity will win out. Still, as I approach the circular driveway, his detached garage closed and no cars in sight, I slip my phone from my pocket.
I see he’s texted me as I stand at the bottom of the stone steps, two granite pillars framing the door.
The text came a minute ago.
Atlas: Te video.
I frown at the words, confused. Latin, of course, because all devil-worshipping, old money cults should know Latin, right? But I don’t know enough of it. Just a few basic phrases Maverick’s taught me when I curl up in his lap in the office.
I don’t know this one.
I roll my eyes as I copy the words and paste them into my browser, glancing around me but seeing nothing.
I’m used to the 6’s weird ways and doing a lot of Googling. I’m used to my boyfriend’s strangeness too. The way he comes home in the middle of the night covered in blood. How he uses me, those nights, to release some anger or stress or maybe, really, at the heart of it…grief.
But this has never happened before.
I’ve been kidnapped though, my brain reminds me. By the 6. Taken from Lucifer’s house.
The memory is fuzzy, but I know what happened before Maverick chose me over the girl he had stuffed inside our basement.Noctem.
Goosebumps prickle along my skin and I force myself not to think of it.
I read the translation of Atlas’s text before I can trail too far down those memories.
I see you.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as my mouth goes dry, my palms sweaty as I grip my phone tighter. No sound, no light, and no shadows emanate from the house as I flick my gaze to the door.
I glance at my dimming screen, reading the words again.
I see you.
Before I can decide if I should text him back or take a step toward the house, a hand comes around my mouth, a voice in my ear, my phone pulled from my hand.
