broken thieves

twenty-four

Sometimes I forget how easily I bruise.

I guess I didn't realise how badly I had been injured while fuelled with pure adrenaline, but now, standing in front of the mirror in Blake's bathroom at eight o'clock in the morning wearing nothing but my underwear, I'm a little taken aback.

Despite the smaller bruises littered on my arms from where large hands were grabbing at me, there's one that's big and multicoloured spreading across my stomach like the plague. Pressing a finger to it, I wince as pain prickles underneath the skin. It might not have been as painful as when Simon slammed his foot into my ribcage, but fuck, that guy had a powerful ass punch.

He's dead now. I wonder how long it'll take for the Paris thieves to find him.

I slip Blake's t-shirt back over my head. I've barely slept over the last few hours, but it was only ten minutes ago that I had a dream that I was sinking to the bottom of that lake, and I know I won't be getting any more.

Blake's still sleeping, but I can just about hear voices floating from the kitchen, along with the smell of burning toast. I leave the room, walking over to where Colby and Jayden are stood staring at what could be considered a clump of charcoal sitting on the counter, both with their hands on their hips.

"Maybe just... scrape the burnt bits off?" I suggest, looking down at the black slice of bread. Colby physically jumps at my voice.

"Then he'd only get a few crumbs for breakfast," Jayden chuckles. He looks at Colby. "Sit down and I'll make some for you."

I give him a wide smile.

"And you," he says, tugging at a strand of my hair. I hop up onto one of the stools surrounding the kitchen island, Colby sitting beside him.

"So," he says, nudging me in the side. I try to disguise my grunt as a sigh, breathing through the fierce pain. "You and Blake had some fun last night, I heard."

"Don't make her uncomfortable, Cole," Jayden laughs, filling up a mug with steaming liquid and placing it in front of me.

"We might have," I say, tucking my tongue into my cheek. I wrap my hands around the mug, feeling the warmth. "Who told you?"

Colby shifts in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. "Well... er... it was..."

"Maeve?" I ask.

"Yeah," he chuckles awkwardly, scratching a phantom itch at the back of his head. "You can never trust her when she's drunk."

I let out a laugh, shaking my head. There's no place within me to feel embarrassed that she told Colby and Jayden, and whoever else she might have. There's a bigger secret I have to deal with.

"Guess she'll miss out on being told any other gossip, then," I smile.

Jayden places breakfast in front of each of us once it's ready, and we're halfway through eating it when Blake finally emerges from his room.

"You're all up early," he comments, kissing my cheek as he walks by. "Any breakfast for me?"

"Aurora's sat right here," Colby says, snorting at his own joke as Jayden says, "sit down, I'll make you some."

Acting like everything is normal is strange. While the four of us eat and talk, the conversation mainly centred around the party last night, the pictures of two dead men bleeding out in the lake dance behind my eyes. Then those images are accompanied by those of the men I somehow killed when they stormed the Winter's home, while I kept Posie tucked up safely in my arms. Then the first nine people I killed enter my head, too, as I remember the sensation of a knife embedding into a person's throat.