Page 10 of Worse Fates (Soulmates Suck #1)

Men really are trash, and I should’ve read Anne Rice more carefully—vampire men are the worst of them.

Lucero looked me dead in the eye, joy flowing out of him in buckets, and told me I was a reincarnated version of his past boyfriends. Like I’d be happy.

Fuck. That.

I’d rather die alone.

So I ran, and I’ve been running now for four days.

I’m marching down a busy street in the city, trying to outpace my racing thoughts and lose myself in crowds bundled in winter jackets. And not even the night sky is thick enough to smother every shopfront’s blinding flashing signs. Apparently big sales are on.

The pathway is so tightly packed I can hardly breathe. Cars honk, hyper pop music screeches.

It’s been like this for days now. Every thought, feeling, and fucking sound trying to crack me open.

The air in my lungs expands until it’s lodged in place. I force my way through the buzzing colourful swarm, to stumble into an alleyway stinking of rotten milk and piss.

Pulse ricocheting against my too-tight skin, blood rushes between my ears.

I pace up and down, up and down—then everything screams out of me in a string of curses. Reeling back my leg, and with more force than I thought possible, I kick an already dented bin with a cathartic yell.

It clatters to the dirty floor, lid spinning off, and rolling into a stack of soggy day-old newspaper.

I heave out my long trapped breath.

Then the steam dissipates, the noise fades, and I’m left hollow. Whatever anger I had gone.

Letting out a loud groan, my back drops on the brick wall, cold seeping through my combat jacket and…fine, I’ll admit to still wearing Lucero’s coat. I pull it closer, hating myself a little for the comfort it brings, and stare blankly at my scuffed boots.

Tired, defeated, I slowly pull my phone from my pocket and wake it up at twenty percent life, and bring up my voicemail.

“Hey, goofball,”

Jace says from the speaker, and I curl myself around it.

“Have you lost your phone again? Answer it already! Anyway, just wanted to let you know I’m on my way home, see you in a bit. Love ya.”

Leaving home for good was the hardest thing I’d ever done.

And then I went and found myself another monster.

Lucero’s love is powerful, and the worst part is how easy it’d be just to love him back.

Maybe if the love he had for me was real I could trust him. But Lucero doesn’t want me, does he?

Nah, that fine man ain’t even looking at me.

Why would he? It’s a joke, really. All he wants is the piece of piss soul I’ve got knocking around inside me like a pinball.

And here I thought my name was so original—Golden. All mine and rarer than diamonds. But it’s just another hand-me-down…another thing, another piece of me that doesn’t belong to me.

“Fuck you, fate.”

Suddenly, and with a keenness that demands immediate action, all I want is to go home.

Pushing up and darting out of the alley, I rush between pedestrians and their screaming kids to get to the long line of waiting taxis.

Jumping inside, the scent of lemon cleaner hits me while I drop into the soft leather seats.

“Where do you wanna go, mate?”

The gruff driver asks.

Rattling off the address, I close my eyes as we glide away from the curb; for once grateful the driver isn’t a talker. Away from flashing lights and into the night.

The journey back is long, but I know every pothole on the road to my neighbourhood. And from the way I’m jerking in my seat, I’m home. The place is rundown, more shops boarded up than open. Concrete flats towering so high it makes me dizzy. It’s nearly seven at night, but already it’s so dark the street lights are on, and everyone’s avoiding the cold.

The driver stops outside King’s Tattoo Studio, and I hand over a bundle of cash I picked-pocketed yesterday, before jumping out. The studio front is bright red, the name a flourish at the top and a window painting of a skeleton king of hearts in bold colours, grinning.

The bell over the door dings as I enter and come face to face with a hulking blonde man covered in tattoos.

“No fucking way!”

I’m swept up into his arms.

“The prodigal son has returned.”

A bolt of laughter jumps out of me.

“Hey, Luuk.”

“Oi, Kai! Get out here, Golden’s back!”

Luuk calls, dropping me down and shooting his big goofy grin.

“Golden?”

Kai storms out of his room, wrapped in his usual leather jacket covered in purple painted designs. A small unicorn pencil tucked behind his ear.

He’s taller than me, but shorter than Luuk. Kai’s got light brown skin with bleached braids that sit on his shoulders, and cover half his face.

“You bellend!”

He punches my shoulder.

“Ouch!”

I grumble, rubbing where Kai hit.

“You deserve it!”

Kai yells, shoulders tense.

“I’ve been so bloody worried!”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

I tug on his arm, coaxing him into a hug.

“C’mon grumpy puss, hug me back.”

He grunts, but soon I’ve got an armful of my friend. “Idiot.”

A short man, warm brown skin like my own, with a mess of wavy black hair sitting on top of his head, strolls out the kitchen and hands me a cup of tea in a mug with my name on it.

“I told you he’d be back.”

I take the tea, smiling.

“You knew, Apollo?”

“How was the wacky burger, lad?” he asks.

“You…wait-...what?”

He shrugs, grinning.

Apollo is like that, saying random weird shit which either comes true, is true or makes no bloody sense. Normally, we chalk it up to Apollo being an odd guy. But with all I’ve learnt, I wonder if he’s magical.

Hopefully not cursed.

A woman with peachy white skin and blonde hair, wearing paint-covered overalls and black rings on every finger, comes up from the basement.

“Are we talking burgers? Because I’m starving.”

“Hey, Summer.”

“I was wondering when you’d pop back up, babe.”

Summer grins, kissing my cheek.

“Don’t run off again. Or at least answer your texts.”

“I know, I'm terrible.”

“You’ve been gone for two months, Golden. Where the hell were you?”

Kai says, giving me his best ‘pissed off big brother’ look.

Luuk’s arms fold over his muscular chest, goofy grin turned grim.

“That bastard came here looking for you.”

I wince. Well before I was running from Lucero, there was a much bigger problem I was hiding from.

“What did you say?”

“We told him to sod off, obviously,”

Apollo scoffs.

Summer nods, hip cocked.

“What else would we say to that creep?”

“He was pissed off, mate,”

Kai says, forehead creased.

“You could’ve crashed with me if you needed to escape that nutcase.”

I cradle my cuppa.

“It’s a long story.”

They don’t push for more information, not like I’d say anything anyway.

Even when Kai would bandage me up, then hate himself as he sent me back.

Luuk takes me into a chill out room where they do tattoo consultations.

The walls are painted black, art hanging in purple frames.

The words to some punk song Apollo loves splashed onto the wall in a wild red.

I get comfortable on the much loved, velvet green sofa, Kai next to me, Summer on the other side.

Luuk stands by the door like a bodyguard, while Apollo perches on the dark lacquer coffee table, piled with tattoo flash books and our knees knocking together.

For a while no one says anything.

I sip tea—sweet as hell, just the way I like it— listening to the low punk music Apollo has playing through speakers up in the corners.

And in I don’t know how long, I relax.

Comforted by tea and friends and familiar music I never really liked.

“I thought you were dead.”

Kai moves some of his braids out his face to reveal old burn scars on his left side. Normally, he keeps them covered, but today it seems he wants both troubled green eyes on me.

Guilt eats me up, and I gently knock my head against his.

“Kai, I’m so sorry. I…Fuck, I panicked. I might’ve…alright, so, you know about that slightly illegal fight club I was doing odd jobs for?”

“Slightly?”

Summer quirks a brow.

Luuk shakes his head.

“Someone once asked me to join it. But I’m a lover not a fighter. Besides, my boyfriend would’ve been pissed if I came home covered in bruises.”

Dropping my head onto the back pillows, all the air in my lungs stutters out between my lips.

“It got…tense. There was a creepy woman who started hanging around. She wanted me to sell these weird drugs.”

Kai sucks in a breath.

“And you didn't, right?”

“Do I look stupid?”

Apollo humms.

“Piss off, dude.”

I snap.

“I flushed the whole lot down the toilet, then left in the middle of the night.”

Kai cursed.

“Why didn’t you come to one of us? And, again, where the hell were you, Golden?”

“I didn’t wanna get you lot in trouble,”

I mutter.

“It was my problem.”

“Don’t be stupid, you don’t have to deal with this shit alone,”

Apollo snorts. Then rests his forearms on his knees, eyebrows wiggling.

“But I guess you know that, since you’ve picked up a soulmate.”

“Wait, how did you know…?”

Pulling myself up, I stare at him.

Apollo tilts his head, blinking innocently.

“Know what?”

I groan.

“You’re so annoying.”

“You’ve found your one true love?”

And a small smile pulls at his lips.

“Hardly,”

I scoff, shaking off Apollo’s strange behaviour.

“I did meet someone. But it didn’t work out, he’s not over his many, many, exs.”

“Listen, I believe in soulmates,”

Kai begins.

“I’ve got one somewhere out there—”

“How many times do we need to hear about this?”

Summer groans.

Kai playfully flips Summer off.

“But I’m glad you’re not getting involved with another man who just wants to hurt you.”

“You know I’ve never had a boyfriend, I don’t care about that stuff.”

I don't wanna talk about Lucero, but Kai can’t help but push.

Sometimes, when I was bruised and beaten, and refusing to cry but needing help, I’d go to Apollo. He didn’t ask questions like the others, just gave me a place to crash until I could pick myself back up.

Suddenly my skin is too itchy. Their eyes on me are too exposing. ‘Don’t look at me,’ I want to scream. Stop trying to peel back layers and see the bloody wounds inside. Lucero was like that, too. He wanted to reach into my chest and take.

In the lull, Kai and Luuk talk about a client Luuk is working on, Summer fiddling with her phone, and I’m grateful for the breather.

“You are who Lucero wants, lad,”

Apollo says, a strip of moonlight over his face, speaking so quietly no one else hears.

There’s no point asking how he knows.

“Why would he?”

He grins wide.

“Because you’re cute and funny, and you’ve got a cracking arse—”

“Please stop,”

I groan. Pulling my legs up, I balance my cup on my knee.

“...Will he hurt me, Apollo?”

His face becomes blank, lost somewhere I can’t follow, then he shakes himself out of it and asks.

“What did you say, again?”

“Nothing,”

I chuckle. But it’s forced and I tug Lucero’s coat closer.

Apollo lays his palm on my head and runs his fingers through my curls.

“Want another cuppa?”

I shake my head, leaning into Apollo like it’s a lifeline. His isn’t the touch I want, and no matter how hard I tug on Lucero’s coat, his warmth vanished four days ago.

“Shit, Golden, are you okay?”

Kai asks softly, a comforting hand resting on my shoulder.

“What?” I mumble.

“You’re crying,”

Luuk tells me gently.

“That guy you met, what happened? Did he hurt you?”

Scrubbing tears away with my sleeve, I mutter,“Nothing.”

Then hand my cuppa to the first pair of hands that take it and rush into the bathroom.

The mirror cools my heated cheeks as I press my face into the cold surface. I’m not a crier, but damn, lately it’s all I do.

What has Lucero done to me? The bellend.

The door creaks open, and Kai slips in. “Hey.”

I grunt back a greeting.

Turning the rusty taps, there's a wheeze before cold water rushes into my cupped palms. Kai watches me, propped up against the door, his hair back in place to cover his scars and hands me a towel once I'm done.

Drying myself off, then tossing the towel into the sink, I slump against the wall opposite Kai covered in 90’s British punk band posters.

Through the door, either the Sex Pistols or The Clash plays, I always get God Save the Queen and London’s Burning mixed up. But if I ever asked Apollo he’d rip me a new one.

“What was the guy's name?”

“Lucero.”

I breathe, hating the longing in my voice.

“You’ve been saying you're destined for a one true love since I met you in school. How does it make you feel?”

Kai’s gaze is assessing.

“Like I’ve got a person out there who’ll love me no matter what. It's comforting. What about you??”

The distant ache of long healed bruises and broken bones hits me hard. The coldness of a hospital room, a kind nurse telling me I can talk if I want to. Being so fucking angry at my own weakness and directing it at her, not…who deserved it.

My fingers itch for my phone, missing Jace’s voice like a missing limb.

“Jesus, Golden.”

Kai’s voice is low, sad.

“I should’ve forced you to come live with me sooner, before things got this bad.”

My eyes close.

“I really don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You never do.”

I love Kai, and he loves me, which is why sometimes I wanna scream in his face. His love can be suffocating.

Murmurs come through the door, and neither of us pay much attention, too busy loving and hating each other. But then Apollo’s voice, louder than the other, rings out.

“We haven’t seen Golden in ages, Mickey, as I’ve told you so many times.”

Kai and I share a look, they both mouth ‘fuck’ before getting into gear, and for the second time that week I shove my ass though a tiny bathroom window.