ButBaachanbelieved me.
Christian believed me.
Though I suppose he would; he’s not human. He doesn’t know what should and shouldn’t be possible.
He was always so...confusedby simple things.
Carbonated water.
Club music—he compared them to earthquakes.
Fashion…
Always fashion.
Just walking into a section of a store with hats, caps, berets, beanies, visors—
The corners of my lips tilt in a smile at the memory.
It drove his energy mental…
It's bullshit that you think you don’t have an identity of your own.
Every emotion I ever saw on you belonged to you.
“It doesn't matter anymore,” I place my hand on hers where she’s grabbed me at my wrist, to squeeze gently. “None of that stuff does.”
Because… now there are people I need to apologize to and… someone I need to see again.
“I'll talk to Aster.”
The words are barely out of my lips when Gabriel runs in, looking pale, his energy jittery and anxious.
“We've lost communication with the Don.”
Again with thefuckingjokes.
I’mconvincedthere are some shady,chain-smoking,celestial motherfuckers playing cards with my life.
Where’s their supervisor?!
I’m muttering curses in Spanish but urgency kicks my feet into overdrive as I reach for the nearest shirt.
“How many men did he take?” I’m clothed by the time I step out into the hall.
“Twenty-five.” Gabriel’s reply is certain.
Men on the outside have already handed me three guns before the words have time to settle.
We arm ourselves while we move.
“And you've lost contact with all of them?” Mother scowls. There’s a vicious light in her eyes as she loads a newly handed AR-15 and throws a duffel over her shoulder.
“It's worse,” Tobias appears at my side, arming himself with his favourite knives as we tear through the house. “The residents nearby are reporting gunfire.”
August, the prick.
“Round up the team,” my command is sharp, “and as many men as you can.”
