Nyx 1: Curse of the Catastrophe Cat (Mafia Reverse Harem Poly)

1.29 Thor With A Savage Twist

Thor With a Savage Twist

Xoxo Nyx

Once surrounded by flashing lights and sirens, the relief that we made it is short-lived with a fleet of murdered out black SUVs spitting out more Mafiosos, with even bigger guns, and the paramedics taking my lifeline, my anchor to the real world, I tuck and roll beneath one of the parked cars before another ambulance fills the gaps of the street.

Let go, or simply lose hold of the failing handle, that got me through yet another disaster in one piece. Physically anyway. Mentally, I'm as insane as I sounded and there is no telling if I'm keeping it in, or if the blasting alarms, sirens, and radio chatter drown out the psychotic fit of me chocking on my own stupidity.

Morning comes with the sound of the engine rather than the light of day, and me dragging myself under the back bumper, using the cover of darkness to craw into an alley. If anyone could call the two lane gap, more pristine than the main roads of the Hollow, that.

Exhaustion turns to lead in my limbs, but I know if I don't get away now, I may never.

Unable to calculate the amount of time that passed, I get myself to the trolley station that runs twenty-four seven, not allowing myself to think on the child I so callously and selfishly left in my fear.

Well, more like I break down into a fresh set of tears over him, before the Witch's curse kicks me while I'm down with the tram I'm on losing a wheel and sending me on yet another roller coaster I can't manage before I finally trudge to my street on fumes, and regardless of the training that lets me operate on an empty tank, that boneless feeling returns when I hit the entry steps of the complex to see the red tags.

Yeah, we're way past three with Nicky's convention leading me to a failed hit, that ended with weapon of mass destruction, followed by another clear contracted assassination attempt, to my eviction notice, after a literal train wreck.

I'm so out of it.

Lost in the world of gray with so many things swarming in my head that I don't even notice George coming up behind me.

Can't hear her talking to me, or Lucy explaining that I get like this. Where I can't see or hear or feel, and it takes as long as it takes for the clouds in my soul to clear and allow me to come back to the real world again.

I can't be sure if it's my mental state or George having the time she needed to consider going back home, but next thing I know, I'm walking through the door of a house in East-Point.

It's a gated community, complete with a team of men in black, that I can't decide whether is reassuring or frightening when we transition from the condemned loft to her million jewel residence.

The time with her, well, it's just what I need. Between too generous offers of staying rent-free, and princess parties, the sister I never had demand of me and the girls, I'm in a much better frame of mind than I have been in weeks.

Months honestly. George setting me up with Marcel Employment Agencies, is more than I could ask for, and the most optimistic I've been since the triple x flash mob incident.

No, I can't take her up on the room she's offering me for nothing, but I can certainly prove that I'm capable of an honest days' work, and hopefully find what I'm looking for by starting as a temp.

Generous George jokes that I should just stay on as her personal chef, but I'm nowhere near qualified for that. It's our last night together before I head back to Alex's.

Obviously wearing out my welcome with the budding relationship of the throuple. Ryan was able to get an apartment down the hall from me in the same complex, and I tell myself, as long as I'm the one paying rent and utilities rather than him, it's not me failing or proving Nicky's point that I never should have left Crest.