Tacet a Mortuis (The Elite King's Club 3)

“—Madison…” She strode forward, but I yanked my hand away from her as she reached for it.

“Don’t. I don’t want to see you—or talk to you.”

“Madison.” A voice thundered out from behind me and I stilled. All thoughts, all movements, paralyzed by that imperious tone.

Turning around, my eyes landed on my dad. “Did you know?”

He observed me, and all though I couldn’t make out his expression very well, the headlights from multiple cars that were parked up had somewhat given me a sneak into it.

He exhaled after a beat. “Come home. I will explain there.”

“Madison…” Bishop decided to add in his two cents, his hand coming to mine.

I recoiled. “Don’t fucking touch me, and everyone shut the fuck up and stop saying my goddamn name!”

His jaw clenched, then he dropped his hands to his sides. Taking one step at a time, I headed straight to my dad’s car and slid into the passenger’s seat.

“Kitty, wanna talk?” Nate must’ve hopped in behind me a second later.

“No.” Was all I could manage. Sometimes, I wished I was just a normal hormonal teenager. Battling acne prone skin the night before formal instead of living through this hell.

Slamming the front door closed, I ignored the constant glaring from my dad and Nate and headed straight for the stairs. Taking them two at a time, I wanted to quickly reach the safe confinement of my bedroom. My bubble. It never failed me. Even if at this moment, I disliked some of the people living under the same roof.

I felt as though my mind was spinning on a never-ending Ferris wheel powered by NOS, and all I could think about was how before this night, everything was starting to make sense. Things were slipping into place a little better. But now, my whole life and what I thought I knew had again, been shredded into itty-bitty pieces—actually, the pieces were looking rather irreconcilable at this point. But like in true me life fashion, just when I thought I had gathered up all the pieces, ready to connect them back together, they get smacked out of my hand and scattered over the fricking Pacific Ocean. Someone is taking the piss out of my life.

Hitting the faucet on the shower, my eyes came to my hands. The dark red blood now crusted over my skin. My chest rose and fell heavily, panic slowly starting to ooze in. Without another thought, and through a shaky breath, I got into the shower and stood under the scorching hot water. Clothes and all. Running the palm of my hands over my face and pushing my hair back, I watched as the water that was pooled at my feet began to slowly run red. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, descending down my face. Swiping at my cheeks, irritated, I slowly undressed, throwing my clothes into a pile near the sink. I helped kill someone tonight. I dry retched, my hand flying up to cover my mouth as my throat clogged with vomit. I quickly dashed out of the shower, leaning over the toilet just in time to unload the contents into the bowl.

“Kitty…” Nate walked into the bathroom just as I was wiping the residue off of my mouth. He shut the door behind himself and leaned against the door, putting one leg up to rest against it. We were so far gone past the awkward-naked phase, that I didn’t even bat an eyelash when he entered. He had seen me naked more than any brother should. Step or not.

“Nate, please,” I pleaded, snatching the mouthwash and taking a swig before spitting it out in the sink. I closed the toilet lid and took a seat. “I helped kill someone tonight, my boyfriend is a liar, and owns his very own fucking wardrobe of Narnia, only instead of walking through and seeing lions and shit, I’m walking into a dark smoky past filled with secrets—all of which he is obviously hiding from me—Then there’s my mom, who isn’t really my mom, but I have thought she was my mom all my life—who I thought shot herself, but is actually still alive—and had also slept with my somewhat boyfriend. Did I miss anything? Oh yeah, I’m a freaking Venari, not a Montgomery, so my whole life is a fucking lie.”

Nate came closer until his hand was wrapping around my arm, and then before I could protest, he scooped his other under my upper thigh, lifting me up off the floor. “Get in the shower, Kitty.” I couldn’t control it anymore, sobs broke out and tears spilled down my cheeks. It wasn’t a pretty cry either, it was an ugly cry. The kind people make memes out of.

Nate growled, and then squeezed me into his chest harder before stepping in, under the water with me still wrapped up in his arms.