And that’s how the two of us ended up arrested.
While we wait for Lucien or Atlas to bail us out, Cambria and I sit in the holding tank. She has one knee drawn up on the bench while she lays stretched out on her back, the other leg swinging and dragging on the dirty cement. Her head rests on my lap as I run my fingers through her silky hair, letting the hummingbird colored strands slide across my skin. Even her hair is otherworldly, softer than anything I could imagine.
“I just couldn’t even have that one thing,” she laments. “It was the one thing I actually enjoyed and looked forward to in my life.”
I say nothing, letting her vent her frustrations while offering comfort.
“It was the perfect place to forget,” she sighs, closing her eyes. “The music was so loud I couldn’t hear myself think, let alone feel anything that wasn’t an emotion provoked by the rhythm. It was chaos of the best variety, made to take over your life completely. Mind, body, and soul; it belonged to the bass.” Her eyelashes flutter open, her swirling silver eyes trained on me with open vulnerability. “What am I supposed to do now to keep the nightmares at bay?”
Bending down awkwardly, I place a gentle kiss on her forehead before continuing my ministrations. “We’ll figure it out. Lucien is a pro by now at dealing with my freak outs.” I huff out a humorless laugh, more of a harsh breath than anything. “But it’ll be okay. We’ve survived worse, haven’t we, angel?”
She gives me a sad smile, her eyes fluttering shut again and leaning into my touch. I falter for a moment when a thought occurs to me before picking up where I left off. I don’t voice it though, not only because it would be an asshole thing to ask, but I don’t want to cause this broken angel any more pain than she’s already had to face.
I can piece things together pretty well on my own because I know the signs, especially now that I know to look for them. I’m replaying every one of our interactions with the new information in mind; the way she woke up after getting her marks and reaction to Lucien’s cold voice, flinching. The harsh sarcasm she wears as a shield; all of it.
If she killed her brother when she was a little kid, abused for sure emotionally and I’d bet my money it went farther than that just based off of the fae we’ve seen so far, then she wouldn’t have had something like this. Something as simple as someone running their fingers through her hair.
Even if she slept around with humans, she couldn’t tell them who she was. She couldn’t let her guard down or let them look beyond the persona she showed them. I had Luce and Atlas, but she had no one. I clench my jaw, looking down at her serene expression as she offers me a level of trust she likely hasn’t shown to anyone else in her life.
I don’t think she even cares how much blood I’ve gotten in her hair from my knuckles after I beat the shit out of her boss.
“Lark, Grey, you’ve made bail,” the female officer barks, unlocking the door to our cell.
Cambria’s eyes fly open and her lips curve with her humor. “Dorian Grey? Seriously?”
I flick her nose and stand up, helping her to her feet. “Don’t be a dick. I didn’t pick it, my parents did.”
She snorts, but doesn’t say anything else as the officer leads us to the front of the police station, a scowling Lucien for once in normal clothes due to moving, glaring daggers at us. Atlas on the other hand, notes my swollen, bloody knuckles and smirks with approval. That is, until he also sees the blood still flecked across Cambria and streaked through her hair, his face hardening with concern and promising murder.
“What the fuck happened?” Atlas demands, crossing the room in a few strides and settling his hands on Cambria’s shoulders.
He runs his hands over her, searching for wounds. When he doesn’t find any he breathes easier, but is by no means calm anymore. He wraps an arm over her shoulders and draws her into his side while the officer flicks her curious gaze between Cambria and the three of us, mostly Atlas and I.
“I got fired,” Cambria announces, like that explains everything. Lucien raises an eyebrow for her to continue and she bats her eyes. “And Dorian wasn’t a fan?” I narrow my eyes at her and she rolls hers. “It’s not a big deal, I’ll just go find somewhere else to work. Strip clubs pay better anyway.”
Atlas clenches his jaw. “You’re not working at a strip club. We aren’t that hard pressed for money, especially now that we’re letting go of two apartments. Don’t stress the money, beautiful, we’ll take care of it.”
He can’t see it from his angle, but I sure can. At his words, the little bit of light still left in her eyes fades out. Her entrancing, silver eyes go dull and what fight she still was holding in her shoulders sags out of her.
“Yeah, alright,” she monotonously agrees, getting a faraway look.
I vibrate with barely restrained fury and tug her away from Atlas, my hand firm on her cheek as my thumb tilts her chin up so she’s forced to look at me. “I’ll take you job hunting in the morning. If you want to be a stripper, you can be a damn stripper; fuck what these guys say. Come on.” I kiss her harshly and storm out the door with her hand firmly gripped in mine, letting Lucien sort out the paperwork while Atlas chases after us.
When Lucien gets into the driver’s seat and turns around to start lecturing us, I cut him off before he can gain any traction. “Her boss fired her, then spewed a bunch of bullshit about how she was better off whoring herself out than working.”
Luce’s eyes turn as cold as they did the day we found Maddox’s killer. “So it’s his blood all over her, not hers?” he confirms and I nod.
“Good,” Atlas spits. “Better off not working for that asshole anyway.”
I kick his seat, hoping he gets the hint to stop before he makes anything worse today.
“It’s fine,” she placates, leaning against the car door and gazing out the window. “We’re starting a new chapter in all of our lives anyway. New brands, new family, new apartment...might as well add a new job to the mix. Heck, I can change my name and pretend I’m in witness protection; we’ll just fake my death and start over.”
“Hey,” I start, stealing her hand and rubbing my thumb over the raised scars. It works a bit, the hostility she’s cloaking herself in like armor slipping away slightly. “It’s going to be alright.”
She pins me with a look, but doesn’t pull away. “You say that a lot.”
I shrug. “Because I mean it. Things suck, yeah, but nothing is forever. Just look at this as a stepping stone on your way to bigger and better things.”
