She’d struck a nun and had drawn blood. Sin was in her class and had the sense to get her out of there before the wards and Sully intervened.
I exhaled and glanced to Church, who had been pacing in our living room for the last twenty minutes. I was going to break my damn lighter with how fast I was flipping it open and closed. Or worse, use it to set something ablaze.
“I’d have hit the bitch too,” Stitches said, eyeing Church as he continued to wear a path into the hardwood floor. Church grunted, but he didn’t say anything. He’d been quiet. Way too quiet. He was clearly upset. As soon as he’d heard what had happened, he’d rushed away and met Sully before he made it halfway down the hall to us.
I had no idea what deal he’d worked out, but I was sure we’d be hearing about it soon.
“Me too,” I muttered, knowing damn well Sister Esther was a bitch to begin with. It was no secret she liked to create problems just so she could punish students.
I was stress cooking. I’d made a lasagna, salad, and homemade bread. I’d put together a cheesecake earlier, and now I was waiting for Asylum to bring Sirena home.
It had been a trying day.
Stitches had to assure Cady earlier that we’d get it sorted. I thought she was going to bust our living room window out when we didn’t answer the door. It was why Stitches went to it and spoke to her.
He promised we’d reach out to her the moment we had news. She’d been blowing up my phone for the last hour. I made her promise not to come here until after everything was done.
She’d seemed agreeable, and I’d had the last fifteen minutes without my phone screaming at me with messages from her.
The doorbell rang, and we snapped our attention to it quickly. Church was faster than I was and made it there before I was able to step foot out of the kitchen.
He tugged the door open, hauled Sirena into his arms, and hugged her tightly before pulling her deeper into the room. Sin and Asylum followed after closing the door behind them.
When Church got to the living room, I was there with Stitches, waiting to hold Sirena.
Church let out a grunt and released her, and I was quick to take her into my arms.
“Heaven,” I murmured before kissing her gently. “Are you OK?”
Her answer was to give me a tender kiss in return before going to Stitches. He didn’t say anything. He simply held her tightly before Church snagged her away from him and dragged her onto his lap.
“Sit,” he commanded to Asylum and Sin.
Both wordlessly picked their spots on the couch. I sat with Stitches on the L part of the wraparound while Church sat in his chair with Sirena.
“You made me dinner?” Asylum asked.
“I guess,” I muttered, taking my lighter out to open and close it five times. Flame. Close. Repeat.
He smirked at me. “Surprised you didn’t burn it.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Funny.”
He gave me a wink. “It’s all in good fun, Torch.”
“What’s going on with Sully and your old man?” Sin demanded, ending my conversation, if it could be called that, with Asylum.
“I will be leaving soon,” Church said, his voice a low rumble.
I tensed in my seat at the news, flipping my lighter open and closed faster. Sirena was quick to snap her focus to him, the worry evident on her face.
“It’s OK, specter. You’ll be safe. The guys will be here with you, and I’ll be in touch as much as possible.”
“What does he want you to do?” Stitches demanded, his leg bouncing while he stared Church down.
I glanced from Stitches to Church, knowing damn well Stitches was on the verge of freaking out. He’d practically grown up in the Underground with Church. He knew the atrocities better than Sin and I did. We’d heard the horror stories and had caught glimpses ourselves, but that was different than living in it. Hell, I wouldn’t even call it living. I’d call it surviving.
“Dante, man,” I started, but he held his hand up to stop me.
“It’s done. I’m going. It was part of the deal I made so Sirena wouldn’t be punished. Instead, I take the punishment.”
Sirena buried her face in his neck and held onto him. He turned his attention from us to her, whispering things we couldn’t hear.
“This is fucking stupid,” Stitches snarled, looking to me. “We should just kill all of them and be done with it.”
“We will,” Asylum said.
Stitches and I both turned to look at him.
“In time,” Asylum continued. “Now is not the time.”
“I say you’re wrong,” Stitches snapped, pounding his chest with his fist. “Now is the perfect fucking time. I’ll go there myself and hang Sully’s ass right now. I don’t need a fucking schedule to do it.”
“If you want to take down all of them, we wait. We aren’t in any position to do any of this shit,” Asylum snapped back.
I’d never seen him look so fierce.
“What have you seen, Seth?” I asked gently.
He looked to me. “My name is Asylum.”
“Asylum,” I corrected. “You always know things. Tell us what you know. We need a really good reason to not just end it now.”
“We simply aren’t ready. Firefly wants revenge. We won’t get it if we start mindlessly killing the players. The monster will run. Hide. He will not come out to die. This game has always been a long game. Taking shortcuts would fuck everything. Once we grab the little fucking snake who touched my forever girl, then we can move forward. Until then, we wait.”
“Who the fuck made you boss of any of this?” Stitches shouted, getting to his feet.
I followed and put my hands on his chest in a sad attempt to calm him.
“Malachi,” Church’s voice boomed out. “Sit.”
Stitches glared at Church. “You fucking know what the Underground is like, Dante. We grew up there. It’s not rainbows and Christmas gifts. It’s a nightmare born from the underside of the devil’s dick. If you’re punished—”
“The punishment is to kill. How many have I ended, brother? Huh? How many?” Church said in a deadly calm voice. “This is nothing to me. Nothing.”
“Sit down,” I murmured to Stitches.
He let out a disgusted grunt but sat. He buried his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees while his legs bounced. I knew him well enough to know he was on the verge of completely losing it.
“It’ll be OK. Let’s just trust in Asylum. Just for a little longer. We need to get the guy who hurt our girl, man. Can you do that? Just wait a little?” I rested my hand on the middle of Stitches’s back.
He said nothing, continuing to shake with his anger.
I hadn’t noticed Sirena get up, but she had because she moved to stand in front of Stitches for a moment before she went to her knees for him and cradled his face. We all watched as she lifted his head and stared at him.
“I don’t like this,” he whispered, staring at her. “The longer they live, the more dangerous they become. Not just to you, angel, but to all of us.”
She pressed her lips to his, quieting him.
We sat in silence, watching as she deepened their kiss until he was tugging her onto his lap, his hands all over her.
I cleared my throat and looked to Asylum and Sin.
Asylum’s eyes were narrowed while he watched the exchange. He was clearly not happy about seeing it, but not appearing like he was going to do anything about it.
Then there was Sin.
He’d balled his hands into tight fists, his gray eyes focused on the pair.
“Malachi, take her to your room,” Church called out. “Our guests don’t need to see a show.”
Stitches didn’t even break his mouth away from hers. He simply stood, her cradled in his arms, and walked with her to his room, the door slamming closed behind him.
“Sorry about that,” I said, forcing a smile onto my face. “She has a way with him.”
“She has a way with us all,” Asylum murmured, his blue eyes focused on the hall where Stitches had disappeared with Sirena. “I want in.”
“Uh.” I flipped my lighter open and closed five times and looked to Church, hoping I wasn’t going to have to hold off a death match in our living room. Asylum had already made his desires clear before, but tensions were high at the moment. Seemed like a bad idea to bring it up.
“I know you do,” Church said, his voice low.
“She chooses,” Asylum added, raising his brows as he stared Church down.
A muscle thrummed along Church’s jaw before he answered.
“She does,” he said.
“So if she chooses all of us. . .?” I cast a quick glance to Sin, who was staring at his feet, his body tense.
“It’s a discussion for another time,” Church said. “And don’t worry, Sinclair, you’re not part of the equation.”
Fucking hell.
“Dante,” I started. “Can we just not—”
“I made my promise. My vow. I’m only here to protect her,” Sin murmured, his voice thick. He looked from Church to me. “I won’t touch her unless it’s to save her. She would never choose me. She has enough monsters to deal with.”
Church scoffed and pulled a joint out before I went to him and offered him a light. He took a deep inhale of the drug before offering it to me. Taking it from him, I toked on it for a minute before going to Asylum and offering it.
He waved me off. “My head gets too calm when I’m high. Feels like I should be on high alert right now.”
Fair enough.
I turned to Sin. “You want some?”
Sin looked at the joint for a moment before he reached out and took it, taking a deep hit before handing it back to me. I brought what was left to Church, who sat staring at Sin. I could only imagine the thoughts rolling through his mind.
I didn’t think any one of them were pleasant. If I knew anything about Church, it was that once he was pissed at you, he stayed that way. Many people had lost their lives to his wrath before. Sin knew it too.
The bleakness of that situation haunted us.
I hated to admit it, but Sin might not ever get to come back to us. Yeah, he’d screwed up, but I still gave a damn about him, and it was clear he was willing to try again.
“So you’re just going to leave? Do you know for how long?” I asked, sitting back in my spot.
“I’ll leave tomorrow morning. I don’t know for how long. Until he’s satisfied. If I do a good enough job, I expect it won’t take long.”
I sighed. “Man, I don’t like this.”
“Nor I, but it’s either me or her, and I would easily die in her place,” he answered simply.
“Then come back to haunt nightmares.” Asylum smiled. “I would be happy to assist you with your father. I can come with you.”
“No,” Church said quickly. He closed his eyes for a moment. “No. Stay here. More hands here are better.”
“I knew you’d say that.” Asylum settled back in his seat. “But I’ll still help.”
“Of course you did,” I mumbled.
“I’d prefer Sin didn’t have to work too hard,” Church continued. “Ashes and Stitches will already be here. Asylum. I don’t see why Sin’s service would be required.”
“Every single one of you was here when this shit went down,” Sin said, his voice laced with his anger. “And it was me who fucking got her out of there. I’m useful. I-I can be useful.”
“Easy, slice and dice,” Asylum said, resting his hand on Sin’s shoulder.
I winced at the nickname. I knew it had to do with all the cuts Sin had given himself over the past few weeks.
“You are useful,” I said. “You are. It’s just. . .”
“I’m not going to hurt her,” he whispered. “I’m not. I swear I won’t. I just. . . I only want to help. I said I’d not touch her. It wasn’t a lie. I won’t unless it’s necessary. If you all make this happen, and I’m the odd man out, I’ll deal with it.” He let out a shaky breath. “I made my hell, and so I’ll burn in it. I accept this.”
“Sin.” I sighed, ready to say to hell with it and welcome him home. So much pain was laced in his words. I hated he was hurting, but damnit. He’d really fucked up.
He had helped today, though. He’d kept her safe. Acting fast, he managed to get her away. The fact she hadn’t tried to get away from him had to mean that perhaps she was more accepting of him than we were. Or at least Church was.
“Cry me a fucking river,” Church said before taking another hit from his joint and blowing out the smoke. “You’re lucky we let you live. Be happy with our fucking compassion, and stop trying to weasel your way back in. You’re not wanted. No amount of heartfelt words will change my mind.”
“You’re right.” Sin let out a bitter laugh. He got to his feet and went to the door. Without another word, he pulled it open and left.
“Damnit, Dante,” I muttered, getting to my feet. “We do fucking need him. All hands on deck right now. For her.” I didn’t wait for his rebuttal. I swept from the living room and went to find Sin.
I didn’t know what I was going to say, but hell, maybe it would help.
At this point, it sure couldn’t hurt.
