Remi stares down at himself. “I’m looking as great as deities during their sacrificing days and just as dashing. I don’t think I forgot anything?”
“The fact that we have classes tomorrow, genius. Some of us actually take uni seriously.”
“Don’t be a bore, Ces. I swear to fucking fuck, you’re going to die in the middle of one your books one day. Don’t come asking for a spot in my joy corner in the afterlife.” He pushes past her, dumps the food container on the coffee table, and throws his weight on the sofa, making himself at home.
Creigh nods in our direction, a red bruise covering his jaw. I swallow at the reminder of who put it there and can’t help pointing at it. “Are you okay?”
My cousin doesn’t even touch it. “I’ve survived worse.”
“Do you have to keep fighting, Creigh? Aunt Elsa would be so worried.”
“She won’t be worried about something she doesn’t know.” His words are spoken casually, but I can hear the warning behind them. “Also, why was he looking at you?”
“W-who?”
“The younger Carson. He was looking at you during the fight.”
“You must have been imagining it.”
He gives me a knowing look but thankfully doesn’t push it.
“Come here, spawn. Use your brute strength to move this shit up,” Remi calls from the other side of the room, kicking a heavy antique chair.
“Stop changing our decor, Remi!” Cecily runs in an attempt to stop him, but Creigh is already beside him.
“Not my fault your decor is as boring as your books, nerd.”
“Screw you, manwhore.”
“Not interested. It’d be boring, too.”
“Ugh, I’ll strangle you one day.”
“Not into that either. Jesus, you’re scary, woman. No wonder they say the quiet ones are the kinkiest.” He physically grabs Creighton and uses him as a shield. “Protect my lordship from her venomous claws, spawn. This cougar will kill me in my prime.”
Creigh doesn’t move, but he tilts his head back. “And that’s a bad idea because…”
“What the fuck? What the actual fucking fuck? You’d sell me out for Cecily? Jesus, my lordship is having an existential crisis. Listen up, spawn. If you don’t have me, no one will be able to translate your weird shit.”
“Oh,” Creigh says.
“That’s right. You need my lordship’s presence.”
“He has a point,” Creigh tells Cecily and starts to move the chair.
“What’s with all the noise?” Ava emerges from her room, sans mask and with her hair loose.
She immediately figures out the situation and goes to Cecily’s rescue. But Creigh is already moving the chair and Remi’s laughing like a dark overlord.
I let the commotion slip to the background and step toward Bran, then touch his arm. “Are you okay?”
He’s smiling at the whole scene, and I love seeing Bran smile, probably because he finds it hard to. At least, not genuinely.
So I’m ready to put up with all the noise if it’s to see him happy.
“I am now,” he tells me.
“I heard about the fight club. Why did you even go there, Bran? You don’t like those scenes.”
“I didn’t have a choice.” He retrieves his phone, scrolls through it, then shows me the last bit of the conversation he had with Lan.
He has him saved as ‘Spare Parts.’ It started when they were in their teens. Back then, Bran had Lan saved as ‘Other Half,’ but Landon made fun of him and said he was saving him as ‘Spare Parts,’ so out of pure spite, Bran saved him as ‘Spare Parts,’ too.
Something that Mum chose to think of as a joke while Dad was super pissed.
In the conversation, Lan sent Bran a picture of me in the crowd. It’s zoomed in to show me clenching my hands and my expression alarmed.
That was in the middle of Creigh and Killian’s match.
Spare Parts: Our little princess is in trouble. Care for some saving?
I briefly close my eyes, then sigh. “I’m sorry, Bran.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. Besides, I did watch him get knocked down by the other fighter, so it’s not a complete disaster.” He watches me closely. “Are you really okay, though? It looks bad in the picture.”
I clear my throat and tuck a blonde strand behind my ear. “You know how I get in violent situations.”
“So don’t go there anymore, Glyn. I can’t protect you from Lan in his environment.”
“I don’t need protection from Lan. I’m not scared of him,” I say it and mean it this time.
Dealing with Killian has taught me that there are always monsters worse than the ones you know.
Even monsters have levels of depravity, and Killian’s is on the highest pedestal.
Bran gives me a look. “Just be careful.”
“Don’t worry, I will.”
Seeming to be satisfied with my answer, he pulls me to his side as we join the others. We sit beside Remi, who has already moved all our sofas and even decor lamps to create a circle that resembles Satan’s summoning ritual.
Creigh’s munching on some snacks while sitting on the floor, his legs crossed.
Ava and Cecily, who lost terribly, are sitting side by side, crossing their arms and glaring.
The only one who’s laughing is Remi while mixing drinks and throwing a snack in Creigh’s direction. Then he reaches into the container he brought and grins. “Guess what I have here, bitches?”
“If it’s not your severed penis, we’re not interested,” Cecily says.
“Not interested,” Ava echoes. “And holy shit, did our resident prude just say penis? Please tell me someone recorded that.”
“Shut up. You’re ruining the comeback line,” Cecily nudges her.
Ava snorts a laugh, then stops. “Fine, fine, we’re totally not interested, Rems.”
“Are you sure?” His face is pure mischief mixed with gloating as he slowly opens the container to reveal several smaller containers. “Because I’ve got fish and chips!”
Silence fills the room before Creigh jumps up and snatches a container—no, two.
“You get one for being the sweetest ever, Glyn.” Remi gives me a container and then another to Bran. “And you for being a bloody good sport, mate.”
Then he smirks at Cecily and Ava, who are watching the containers with parted lips that are only short of drooling. “You two, however, will need to beg my lordship.”
Creigh already opened his container, and the smell wafts through the air. Ava swallows. “It’s our house. The least you can do is pay up for interrupting our night.”
“I’ll pay up in money, but not fish and chips. Now, say, please, your lordship.”
“Go wank a horse, your lordship.” Ava glares.
He makes an error sound like this is a game show. “You have two more tries.”
“Just give me that.” Cecily snatches a container and Ava jumps on his back to stop him from fighting.
“Cray Cray, save me from these crazy cougars!”
My cousin, however, has zero interest in his environment when he’s eating. His whole attention is on devouring the chips.
Bran and I laugh as we begin to eat, too. Or I do. Bran puts his down and starts sketching.