“So, Greyson’s Girl—”
“My name is Scarlett,” I interject, interrupting Elijah. “I’m notGreyson’s Girl, and I don’t appreciate being reduced to property.” If Elijah treats me the same way Cain does, I just might have to poison him.
Elijah grins. “Alright,Scarlett. Tell us about yourself.”
“I poisoned Greyson’s tea and escaped the first time I was here,” I say. “If anyone fucks with me, they’re next.”
Raucous laughter erupts around the table. Even Tobias, usually sullen, cracks a smile.
“You’ll fit in here just fine,” Bryan says, speaking for the first time. “Don’t worry, Scarlett. You won’t have to poison any of us.”
“If they’re dumb enough to fuck with you, Greyson will get to them first,” Max tells me. “Most people would rather dig their spleen out with a rusty spoon than face him when he’s pissed off.”
“You don’t seem to fall into that category,” I quip.
Max shrugs. “Never said I was smart. Only protective.”
That’s when it clicks. I don’t think Max was ever truly attracted to me… but I think he got protective because he saw me as a damsel in distress. A woman being harmed, who was in need of rescuing and protection.
I gaze at him curiously, wondering what could’ve led a man like this down the path of being a paid assassin who lives in some strange secret society. He seems too…lightfor this place. From what I’ve gathered, his background is partly in veterinary practices, partly in physical therapy. Whatever the case, it seems like he always tried tohelppeople.
But now, he’s here. Killing instead of helping.
Only hedoesstill help. He helped me when I was stabbed in the thigh, then did the same for Monster—even when the two of them were at odds. When Max saw I was in need of saving, he tried to step up.
I abhor the idea of women being kidnapped to this fortress and kept here for life… but I think whoever Max chooses will have it the easiest. There’s still a lot of humanity left in him. And, although the Nighthawks surrounding me seem decent enoughright now, I’m under no illusions that they’re all probably super fucked up.
But I don’t think Max is messed up in a way that would make him cruel to his Chosen.
Greyson returns with a large tray of food that he sets in front of me. We spend the next hour eating and even talking with his unit… and to my surprise, I find I don’t hate it. Elijah, despite being the most physically intimidating of the bunch, is also the loudest and funniest. Max is a close second. Bryan and Tobias are the quiet ones, and Monster seems to kind of be the father of the group.
I realize that the men seated here look up to him. More, when they speak to him, it’s with respect in their voice. Very little of the shit-talking is directed toward him, and when it is, the guys follow up with a variation ofkidding, don’t kill me.
I don’t temper my behavior at the table. I throw around more death threats than I can count, and the boys eat it up.
At one point, Elijah taunts me by saying, “Don’t go getting too mouthy there, Scarlett. You wouldn’t want to piss anyone off.”
His tone is teasing, but I don’t hold back. “I’m the oneyoudon’t want to piss off, Elijah. I might look small and sweet, but I can develop a poison out of anything. You wouldn’t see me coming.”
“I can attest to that,” Greyson grunts. “I sure as fuck never saw it coming.”
A pregnant pause is followed by yet another round of laughter.
After everyone’s finished with their meals, the dining hall starts to thin out. Cain leaves, after which the collective Nighthawks seem to lose any lingering tension. Those who remain after dinner break out more playing cards and evenboard games. Beers are passed around, alongside shots of hard liquor. I accept a beer but don’t ask to be dealtinto the hand of cards. A few matches of poker are played—Greyson and Max clear everyone out.
At the end, I feel strangely… lighter. The Nighthawks as a concept are fucked up, but in practice… they strike me almost as a large, dysfunctional family. I don’t know how to feel about this organization as Greyson takes me back to the apartment, but I’m quiet and thoughtful.
I’m still pissed at him for trying to knock me up… but he succeeded in proving his point. I still don’t think this is a child-friendly environment, but that doesn’t mean that it might not bemefriendly. I don’t know how to feel—I’ll never be comfortable in a place run by Cain… but dinner made it clear that while everyone respects and fears Cain as aleader… they respect and care for Greyson as their commander. Greyson’s the one they report directly to, while Cain gets his reports from Greyson and Max.
Monster’s explained the structure of leadership to me, and I think it could be likened to a court. Cain is the king, but he doesn’t spend too much time with the Nighthawks—in his mind, they’re probably the royal guard or mere peasants. He spends time with his advisors and commanders, Max and Greyson.Thosetwo spend time with the masses and report to Cain if necessary.
“Did you enjoy dinner?” Monster asks me as we approach the front door to the apartment.
Surprisingly… “I think so.”
He smiles. “Good.”
I wait for him to press his thumb to the biometrics scanner, to let us in so I can cuddle Luci, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “Open it.”
