Maim the Goddess

by gofprincesscharming

Chapter 1

LEIGH:

Why the actual hell did I agree to this?

Well—

Technically, I do—in fact—know why I agreed to this.

It's because of my asshole of a boyfriend—Kai Volkov. Because the dumbass is as mature as my dad.

And that's saying something, considering my dad once tried to fix the toaster with a butter knife and almost set the kitchen on fire. At least he had the excuse of being half-drunk on a whole bottle of vodka. Kai? No such excuse. Just pure, unfiltered idiocy masked with that smug face of his.

I can still hear his voice in my head, all syrupy and confident—"Come on, babe, it'll be fun." That's what he said. Fun. As if dragging me into this chaos was some kind of romantic getaway.

God, I should've just stayed home.

I grew up in the most chaotic house thanks to dad and his antics. My papa—or Lotus Flower as dad loves to call him—was the only mature one in the family before I grew up.

I have to admit that until my teenage years, I was just as chaotic as dad.

Maybe even more, depending on who you ask. Papa still tells the story of when I tried to sled down the stairs on a baking sheet. I was seven. Dad cheered me on.

Papa nearly had a heart attack.

That's kind of how it always went—dad was the chaos, papa was the clean-up crew. And me? I guess I was their little experiment in controlled disaster.

It's a miracle I made it to high school without a permanent limp.

I just turned 21 exactly a month ago, but I still live with my parents—and the most dramatic person on the whole damn planet—my little sister, Sofia. I kind of want to move out, but I'm still critical.

Stop sidetracking or you'll lose sight of him.

I snap back into focus, scanning the crowd until I find him again—tall, smug, too comfortable in enemy territory. I raise my rifle and lock onto him through the scope.

I know how it looks.

Like I'm just here as backup for Kai, playing the loyal girlfriend while he screws with The Serpent's... what is this, anyway? A party? Some kind of ritual? Gang karaoke night? Cult mixter with hors d'oeuvres?

Whatever it is—I'm not here for that.

Ok, I totally am.

But this shit is fucking boring.

I came here to shoot someone. Simple as that.

Scratch the itch, fill the need, do something useful for once.

But of course, it's starting to look like this is one of those missions where I'm just... extra weight. Kai doesn't need me. Not when he's in full control, doing his golden-boy-leader routine.

He's the leader of The Heathens now.

The whole group went quiet for a while—until we, the kids of the original Heathens, hit eighteen. Then boom. Kai and Kitt dragged it back to life. They even dug up the old masks our dads used to wear—black, neon-stiched, and fucking terrifying. They still wear them. Often. Like some kind of holy relic.

I'm not part of The Heathens. Not yet.

God, I want to be. But there's papa, and I'm not sure how he'd take it—me throwing myself into blood and bullets like it's a family heirloom.

Not that it would be shocking.

Dad's the most violent twat on the planet. There's a reason his file is half redacted and the other half is just exclamation points.

I keep my sights locked on the potential target. Finger hovering near the trigger—right as my phone buzzes.

 

Dad:

I can't wait to eat you out, my Lotus Flower.

 

Me:

Wrong number, dad.

 

Dad:

Sorry, Tulip. Won't happen again.

 

It will.

We both know it.

He's not sorry—just distracted. Probably busy crawling his way back into papa's arms. Again.

Papa used to say violence isn't inherited. I disagreed. The first time I ever held a gun, I was nine.

It wasn't loaded—thank God—but I didn't know that until later. At the time, all I knew was that it was heavy, cold, and smelled like oil and danger.

I picked it up like a juice box from the counter where it was placed.

Good old times.

It was dad's. He left it there while he was patching himself up in the downstairs bathroom, probably humming some off-key song and pretending he wasn't bleeding. He was always like that—treating bullet wounds like bee stings and knives like jokes. That day, I remember, his shirt was redder than it was black, and he waved me off when I asked if he was dying.

"Not today, Tulip. Pass me the... uh—" he waved vaguely at the mess on the counter, "—the roll-y thing. The white one. Looks like ghost toilet paper."

I handed him the gauze.

"Yeah, that." He slapped it against his side like it was duct tape, winced, and then grinned at me like we were sharing a secret. "See? I'm basically a doctor, like uncle Kill."

That was when I saw the pistol on the counter.

No lockbox. No safety. Just sitting there, like a paperweight made of death.

I was curious. And dumb. And nine.

So I picked it up.

It fit awkwardly in my hands—too heavy, too cold—but I held it the way I'd seen dad do a thousand times. Arms out, eyes narrowed. Like it was natural.

Two days later, dad decided that was "a sign" and took me to a shooting range.

Papa thought we were going out for milkshakes.

Instead, I got ear protectors two sizes too big, a pistol, and a full hour of "life lessons" shouted over gunfire. The place smelled like sweat, old wood, and gunpowder. Dad was in heaven.

I hit the target on my third try. Right in the red.

Dad whooped like I'd just saved the world. Called me a "natural-born Heathen," bought me a soda on the way home, and swore not to tell papa—as if that was even possible.

Papa knew before I even stepped through the door.

He didn't yell. Didn't scold. Didn't even ask me to explain.

He just stood there in the kitchen, wiping down the counter like it was any other Tuesday, then glanced at me over his shoulder with this look.

Not anger.

Not fear.

Just that quiet, heavy disappointment and that look in his eyes that wraps around your throat and squeezes tighter than any punishment ever could. He wasn't mad at me, but he went feral on dad.

"You don't have to carry what he carries, Leigh," he said softly. "You don't have to become this."

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing.

Just stood there holding a soda cup and a pocket full of shell casings like a thief caught in the act.

That was the first and last time I ever touched a gun in front of my parents.

Because after that look—after that sentence—I knew I could never do it again. Not where papa could see. Not where dad could see, because he'd 100% tell papa. Not while his belief in who I could be was still hanging on by a thread.

If I was going to become this version of myself—the one who feels steady with a scope, who finds calm in the crosshairs—it would have to be behind his back.

Quiet.

Alone.

And that is abso-fucking-lutely certain.

The only one who knows about my... needs—let's call it that—is Kai. When I told him, he didn't freak out. He didn't overreact—in fact—he didn't react at all. He just sat on his throne like the entitled prince he is and made up a plan to use me for his missions. I'm 90% sure that neither of us want to be in this relationship. He's using me for his missions and I'm using him to get into The Heathens. It's a win-win scenario if you ask me.

Suddenly I'm pulled out of my thoughts when a shadow creeps up behind Kai's back. So I aim the rifle at him.

"Kai, there's someone behind you," I tell him through the earpiece.

He turns around and they start... talking. What the actual hell. Who the hell is the guy? I have never seen him.

Kai excuses himself to the bathroom and then whispers to me.

"That's the leader of The Serpents. I need an out."

I keep an eye on The Serpent as I think of a plan. The door on the left is fine. Then I'll still have a clear shot when The Serpent follows.

"Ok, Kai I'm going to need you to exit out of the left door, so I have a clear view—," I try to tell him, but he interrupts me.

"I have a plan, I'm turning right."

"No, you asshol—," but I'm cut off as he disconnects the earpiece.

I put the rifle down as I mutter 'fucking dumbass' to whoever will listen to me—which is hopefully no one, because I'm supposed to be hidden.

But my hopes are crushed as I hear a voice behind me.

"Still cleaning up after golden boy, huh?"

Chapter 2

LEIGH:

I have never been so terrified in my entire life. They found me. My life is over.

But it's not them.

I turn around to see a woman. She looks about my age. Maybe a bit older. She's wearing black combat boots and she smells like danger.

 

Since when do you smell danger?

Shut up, demon.

"Who the hell are you?" I ask but she doesn't even look at me.

"What did he offer you to be his backup?"

"Who? Kai? I'm his girlfrie—"

Fuck.

I shouldn't be giving this random person my personal information. 

Seriously? Oh sure, and next I'll be handing out my address to random strangers like it's a party invitation.

In fact—I should leave. So that's what I'm going to do.

I start to leave but she blocks my path.

Who the hell does she think she is.

"His girlfriend, huh? Didn't know he had it in him to get a girl but here we are," she says like she has a personal connection with Kai. But that's not possible. Kai doesn't have any female friends. 

Well—

Of course there is Joanne—Kill and Glyn's daughter—but I can see that the woman in front of me is not Joanne. Not in the slightest.

Joanne's hair is much longer. The woman in front of me seems to have fairly short hair. And she's tall. Oh, so tall.

I'm not short by any means. At 5'11 I'm taller than most girls my age. But she has to be at least 6'2. If not 6'3.

"Who the hell are you?" I ask again, since I realize she didn't answer my question the first time I asked.

She just smirks and keeps looking at me. No, she's looking through me. Like I'm made of glass. 

Is she zoned out?

"Hey, I'm talking to you, Miss Can't-Be-Bothered."

"Sorry, I got distracted by how ridiculously hot you look. You honestly can't expect me to focus," she laughs—in my face. 

How dare she.

"You still didn't tell me who you are."

"Vera Volkov," she says and I nearly fall on my ass.

"Volkov? As in Kai Volkov and Jeremy Volkov?"

"You're just so smart aren't you, Лужок," she says sarcastically before she sighs and continues. "Kai is my brother."

Brother.

Brother.

It can't be.

"Brother?" I ask surprised, like I just swallowed a disk. Kai doesn't have a sister. I would know. After all, I have a marvelous hacker. Also known as Mallory King—my best friend and my cousin. Nonetheless she gets me every detail I need about Kai so he can't possibly have a sister.

Right?

"Yeah, brother—you know? The male person you share parents with?"

"I know what a brother is, asshole," I answer her with my warmest fake smile.

"Spill," she tells me like she can tell there's something bothering me. 

I have so many questions.

Why did Kai never mention anything?

Where did she even come from?

What was she doing all this time?

How long had she been watching me for?

But I ask none of them.

"Why are you watching me?" I ask instead of the thousand other questions that I have at this moment.

"Because you're quite fascinating and I have a proposal for you."

I shove all of my previous questions to the background.

"What kind of proposal?"

"You protect Kai under any and every circumstance and in return I will owe you a favor of any kind."

"What is in it for you and why can't you just hire anyone else to protect Kai?" I don't question the part that Kai needs protection. He's an idiot who makes worse life decisions than the dude who thought, 'Yeah, I could beat that bear in a wrestling competition.'

The part I am still confused about lingers in the air—what is in it for her and why me?

"Yes or no? I won't answer your questions before you answer mine."

"Pass," if she really needs my help she could offer me something I really need. "I don't need favors."

"I thought you might say that," she says, pulling her phone out of her pocket and showing me a video of a girl with the brightest green eyes I have ever seen. The girl is being held at gunpoint. Fuck if I care.

"And you're showing this to me because?"

Then Vera zooms in and I see the face of the girl.

Sofia.

My sister.

She must see the realization in my eyes because she puts the phone back into her pants.

"Agree to the offer or she dies," she says in the calmest tone like killing little girls comes naturally to her. And it must. Because she's fucking crazy.

"Fine. For how long?" I ask, hoping—begging—for the time to not be for my whole lifetime.

"Until I say it's over."

"Give me a date."

"Fine. December 31st. This year. Deal?"

"Deal," I have a feeling I'm going to deeply regret this decision.

"Because I can trust you to keep him safe," I'm momentarily confused, but then realize she just answered my earlier question.

And just like that, she dissolves into the darkness from where she came.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Just happened.

 

________

 

"Leigh, are you ok?" Papa asks the moment I step inside the house.

He is one of the few people that can read me as soon as they see me.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Fine is not the same as ok, princess. Are you really ok?"

I really hate lying to him but I can't exactly tell him what really happened.

Oh yeah I'm not fine because of a bastard I met while being a backup—a sniper—for Kai. And now I made a deal and if I back out well I don't want to know what would happen.

"I'm great, papa."

"If you ever need to talk to someone, I'm here. I know a parent isn't the person you would want to share your... feelings with, but I'm not exactly a saint, you know? And neither is your dad, which you can clearly see."

Maybe I can tell him something? Just a little truth.

No.

If I tell him anything, I'll think it's fine to spill it all and that is not for now.

"I'm really ok," I say with my most convincing tone, but I don't think he fully believes me.

"Lotus Flower, I'm home!" Dad almost yells and marches over to papa to sit beside—on—him on the sofa. I don't dare say anything, because they're happy like this. 

In fact, I should leave.

"I'm going to my room. Good night."

"Night, Tulip," dad tells me while in the process of clinging to papa like an octopus.

"Sweet dreams, princess," papa manages to say before he's attacked with dad leaning in the kiss him.

They have the sweetest and most chaotic relationship I've ever seen.

Before I step into my own room, I pass Sofia's.

"Sofi? You ok?" I say as I knock on her door.

"Yeah, come in."

I open the door to see Sofia's face red with tears and blood coming out of her arm.

"Oh my god, Sofi. What happened?" I say, freaking out. Though I have a great idea of what happened.

"Someone kidnapped me and brought me to this cliff a-and pointed a gun at me while he filmed the whole thing," her voice breaks me. I'm going to kill Vera even if it's the last thing I do.

"Come on, let's tell papa so he can help."

"No," she whisper-screams. "I wasn't supposed to be out tonight. He can't find out. Please, sis. Don't tell him."

"Fine, I won't. But stay here while I fetch the gauze."

She nods and I leave to search for the gauze. I find it in the bathroom and enter Sofia's room once again.

When she's alright, I start to leave for my room, but I'm interrupted by Sofia.

"Thank you, sis."

"You're welcome, Sofi," I say as I leave and mutter, "I'm really sorry."

I step into my room to find an envelope on my bed.

I open it and pull out the letter and with it, a picture of some man that I don't quite recognize. I flip the picture and it reads—Zayn Price.

That's the moment I freeze.

They really found me.

Fuck.

I open the letter and read.

 

Hello, Leigh!

 

I know you must be thinking how I found you and why did I do it today. Well the answer is quite simple so I'll leave it for you to figure out. I however do have a job for you if you don't want your secrets out in the wild. Meet me in the woods. You know exactly where—I bet you're wondering how I know your secret spot. Well, that's for me to know and for you to figure out. I'll be there at exactly midnight in two months on the 13th of August or you will regret it... daughter.

 

Your dear old dad,

Zayn Price

 

They found me.

They found me.

They found me.

Fuck.