Insatiable (Inferno Games #3)

7. At Least In Lust They Could Fuck Like Bunnies…And Eat

7

AT LEAST IN LUST THEY COULD FUCK LIKE BUNNIES…AND EAT

JULIETTE

E ight hours, thirty-seven minutes and twelve seconds since I was informed that I wouldn’t be eating anything for the foreseeable future and I’m slowly going crazy. Ok, not so slowly. I’m sitting in the canteen, or what was a canteen in the other circles. I messaged Rowena and Quinn five minutes ago to meet me down here.

Rowena gets here first. “Don’t bother complaining about food to me. I know we’re friends, but if I even think about food, I’m going to throw up.”

“I’m having hallucinations,” I admit, finally dragging my eyes from the giant floating ice creams and chocolate cakes. Rowena follows my line of sight over her shoulder. “That’s the big screen. They are showing food to mess with us. You’re totally fine.”

“Fine?” I grit out, frustration evident in my voice. “I’ve tried every diet there is—keto, Atkins, intermittent fasting, Weight Watchers. You name it, I’ve done it. And you know what happened after each of these diets?”

“I’m guessing it didn’t result in you wearing a couple of dress sizes smaller?” she responds with a hint of sarcasm.

“No,” I snap. “After just three days on each of them, I was ready to murder the first person who dared look my way and ended up binge-eating chocolate cake. Every diet I tried only made me go up a dress size. And now, the chocolate cakes are floating past my eyes. I can even smell the damn things. I wonder if I lick the screen, I’ll be able to taste them.”

“Hey,” Quinn says as she sits next to Rowena, and I immediately realize my mistake. I should have sat where they are sitting, so I wouldn’t be forced to watch the cakes. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve spent the whole day with my head in the toilet,” Ro explains, “and Juliette is about to murder someone.”

“Anyone in particular, or can we nominate someone?” Quinn quips sullenly.

“You can have Felix,” Rowena snaps, a venomous edge in her voice. “You can cannibalize him after you’ve murdered him if you like. At least I won’t have to see his face again if you eat him.”

“I’d rather eat mouse droppings, thanks,” I shoot back, a grimace twisting my lips. “Oh fuck. That’s going to be one of the trials, isn’t it? We’re going to have to eat one of the other contestants.” I shrug, trying to shake off the rising dread. “I’d probably do it gladly by the time the first trial starts. Just not Felix,” I add quickly. For starters, he’s a prize douchebag, but mostly because Ro obviously has some bizarre hang-up on him, and who knows where that’s going to lead.

I glance at my friends, and my heart sinks at the misery etched on their faces. Quinn’s eyes are puffy and red, as if she’s spent the entire day crying, while Rowena’s skin has turned a sickly gray.

“Fuck Dade, who I’m assuming you’re also offering up as a sacrifice and fuck Felix.” I turn to Ro. “How are you throwing up? We’ve not eaten for over twenty-four hours.”

Ro shrugs. “It’s like magic. I think it might stop and then I’m rushing to the toilet again. Did you get morning sickness with your kids?”

It was such a long time ago that I was pregnant. I have grandkids now. “I did a bit, but that’s because I ate. You know. Food!” I rub my eyes. “Let’s change the subject. Quinn. What has His gorgeousness done now?”

Quinn looks around and lowers her voice. “He’s refusing to go down to the demon level anymore. Says he’s scared I’ll get hurt.”

Ro shrugs. “At least he gives a shit.” She sits back in her seat and folds her arms, a grimace on her face. “Why are we talking about men… again!? We’re like a group of complete losers that can only ever talk about men and how crap they are.”

“Talking of crap men…” I nod towards George, who’s just appeared from one of the elevators with a huge grin on his face and a giant cupcake in his hand. He nods cheerfully at a couple of skeletal people who nod back pitifully. Their eyes never leave the cupcake as he walks past shoveling the whole thing in his face, leaving pink buttercream smeared around his mouth. If he wasn’t so repugnant, I’d fantasize about licking it off him.

“So we know it’s possible to actually murder people in here.” I say nodding toward George who’s licking his lips, depriving me of even that pathetic fantasy. “Look at Lucia and whatshisface that died in the Purgatory. We just have to rip his head off, right? He might be built like a brick shithouse, but I’m fucking hungry and I know I can take him. I’m actually out of my seat before Rowena casually puts her hand on my arm to stop me.

“You kill the leader of the games and we’re all stuck in here forever. Do you really want that? Imagine it. You’ll never see a cupcake ever again.”

The thought doesn’t even bear thinking about so I sit down, cross my arms and pout instead. “I hate when you’re right.”

“Let’s go and explore downstairs,” Quinn suggests. “Who knows, that might be where George came from. I’m sure there was a cupcake store on the entertainment level in Purgatory.”

My mind wanders. There was a cupcake store there. It was like heaven. I stand up and follow Ro and Quinn. “Why did we leave Purgatory again? It was heaven compared to this.

Ro presses the call elevator button and turns to face me. “We left because Quinn joined the games to find Jenny and we wanted to support her,”

“Hey, don’t blame me!” Quinn retorts. “You both joined through your own volition. If I remember rightly, you were trying to get away from Barclay and you were trying to impress Hades.”

Damn. Now she’s right. “And look how that turned out.”

“It turned out amazing,” Ro said, linking her arms in mine as we step into the elevator. “Because despite everything being a gigantic pile of diseased dog poop, we’re all still together.”

I grimace. “I know that was your version of a rousing speech, but next time, wait until I have a cupcake in my mouth before you try to rouse me, eh?”

The elevator doors open. We step in and go down a level. Just like Purgatory and Lust, they open out into a kind of underground courtyard with the classrooms and the entrance to the Earthery to the right, Infernos nightclub ahead and a parade of shops to the left. It becomes apparent very quickly that people don’t come down here often like they did in the other circles. We’re the only three here except for the people that I can see standing bored behind the counters in the stores.

“Is it me, or is this more depressing than upstairs?” I say, guiding my eyes along the storefronts, inwardly praying for a food store of some kind. Anything. I’d even eat a salad at this point and I really freaking hate salad. “Forget it. There are no food shops. Let’s head into Infernos and get drunk. Maybe I can cope with the next few weeks if I’m inebriated the whole time.”

A small spark of hope ignites within me as we walk into a dimly lit place that looks oddly familiar. The bar is empty, save for a demon bartender wiping glasses behind the counter. It’s early, and the place has an eerie calm.

I sidle up to the bar, letting out a long breath of relief as I park my ass on one of the bar-height stools. I wave the barman over, eager for a taste of normalcy.

“Three Dragonfire whiskies, here we come!” I announce with a whoop, glancing at Rowena with a teasing grin. “Make that two Dragonfire whiskies and one virgin-whatever-you-have.”

“It’s been a long time since you were a virgin, ey?” I don’t even bother to look toward the dark corner to know who is talking. I’d know that voice anywhere. It used to haunt me in my dreams. Now it only serves to annoy me. Tomas. No wonder he’s here. He always did like the drink. If heart disease hadn’t killed him, cirrhosis would have. Or any number of STDs.

The barman plonks down three glasses: one tall cocktail glass and two shot glasses. Ignoring my ex husband’s quip, I grin at Quinn and Rowena in anticipation. But as the barman upends a bottle into one of the shot glasses, nothing comes out. It’s only when he pushes it toward me that I realize it’s empty.

“It’s empty!” I point out, frustration bubbling up. My voice is sharper than I intend, a mix of disappointment and anger simmering beneath the surface.

“And you’re in Gluttony, the place for food addicts, alcoholics, drug addicts, and people who don’t know when to say no,” the barman retorts, his tone dripping with disdain.

“I could never say no to you, Jules,” Tomas calls out. “Do you remember that? Irresistible you were. Want to come join us?”

I glance over at the dark corner briefly to see my stupid ex sitting in one of the booths with none other than Orlin Moss.

“Didn’t you read up on this place before you came here?” continues the barman, so I look back and set my attention on him. “You’re one of those Inferno Games contestants, aren’t you? I can tell by the fact that there’s still meat on your bones.”

I can feel my cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. The barman’s words cut deeper than they should, and I clench my fists, trying to keep my composure. Quinn and Rowena exchange uneasy glances.

“We didn’t come here for a lecture,” I snap back, unable to mask the edge in my voice. “I just want a fucking drink!”

“Let’s go back upstairs,” Ro suggests, but I’m angling for a fight and I’m not sure who I want to punch more. The nightmare of a bartender for not giving me what I want, my ex husband for giving everything to every woman he ever came in contact with or Orlin Moss for just being here and being his usual pathetic self. How the fuck did he even manage to get through to this circle, anyway? Oh, that’s right. For some unfathomable reason, Orlin is a secret sex god who got more points than anyone in the last circle despite there being no one admitting to sleeping with him. I get the feeling he’d be surprised if someone pointed out he even had a cock, let alone him knowing what to do with it. “I still can’t fathom how Orlin’s still around,” I mutter, “especially as Candice, the Hell slut, and Remy didn’t make it through.”

Ro elbows me in the stomach. “Don’t slut shame just because you’re hungry. It’s gross how women are called sluts and men are called cads and studs for the same behavior. Besides, you’re hardly a vestal virgin yourself.”

“How did I not notice Remy wasn’t here?” Quinn says aloud, her eyes widening. “I dated the guy, for Christ’s sake.”

At the other side of the bar, the bartender bristles with Quinn’s choice of words.

Rowena shakes her head. “I’m going back upstairs. This is too depressing and I’ve been to some real dives in my time.”

“Me too,” Quinn adds. “I need to figure out how to change Dade’s mind because if I don’t, I’ll have to go and find Jenny by myself. Juliette. You coming?”

I look back at Tomas and Orlin. They are probably the two people I’d least like to sit next to in a bar that serves air instead of alcohol, but sitting in my room twiddling my thumbs waiting for the first trial to start seems equally as depressing. At least hating on Tomas and Orlin will pass the time.

“You two go up.” I wave them off. “I’ll stay down here for a while.”

They give me twin incredulous looks, but walk away leaving me at the bar alone. I pick up the empty shot glass in front of me because it feels like I should at least have a prop, and head over to the two men.

It’s a hard push to decide who would be the worst to sit next to in the booth, but I remember that whoever I choose to sit next to, I’ll have to stare at the other one… sober. Orlin’s bad comb over and miserable face makes my mind up for me. I slide in next to him, which leaves me with the joy of spending the evening looking at my ex husband. He’s thicker round the middle than he used to be, but he hasn’t lost the boyish grin that captivated me back when he was a boy and I was a girl. The asshole was my first kiss, my first sexual experience and my first… and only broken heart. It irks me that he’s still got it. No doubt he’s still flinging it around.

“To old times, eh Jules?” He holds up his empty glass. Reluctantly, I clink his glass with my own but draw the line at pretending to drink from my glass like he does. He always was the pretender. Orlin stares into space as usual. I’m not even sure he knows we’re here. Or he’s here. His t-shirt reads ‘Been to Hell and back—all I got was this lousy t-shirt!’ It’s surprisingly amusing for Orlin and reminds me of Maggie and Colin. They didn’t make it through to this circle either, but something tells me that they’ll be alright together. At least in Lust they can fuck like bunnies…and eat! I let out a sigh. I should have stayed there.

“Orlin, my man.” Tomas starts, “What brings you to Hell?”

He’s surely in here for chronic boringness, but I keep my mouth shut. Orlin is a man of few words, and I’m genuinely curious if he can articulate anything beyond his normal proclamations that we are all sinners. He doesn’t get the chance to answer, because just then, one of the new girls… what’s her name… Tate slides into the booth beside Tomas.

“Hi everyone. I hope you don’t mind me joining you.”

Tomas immediately turns on his charm despite the fact the girl must be half his age at least. “Of course not, Plenty of room.”

Tate is exactly Tomas’s type. All boobs and butt and skinny waist. Once upon a time I used to look just like her except without the white blonde hair. As soon as she sits, a sharp feeling of loathing overcomes me before I mentally check myself. I have nothing to be jealous of now. Tomas and I were over eons ago. He can fuck who he likes… and quite often does… or did. Judging by the way she sidles up to him and almost plants herself on his knee, they’re probably already intimately acquainted with each other. She’s young enough to be his daughter I think before I hear Rowena’s voice mentally accusing me of being a hypocrite. It didn’t count when I fucked younger men. I felt younger. I looked younger. I still look twenty four years old. Tomas doesn’t. He might not have the sad ancient wrinkliness that Orlin possesses, but he looks like the middle aged man he was when he died. I guess Lust doesn’t afford the youth that Purgatory did.

She gives me a wink then turns her attention to Tomas. “Hey Gorgeous,” she purrs, just loud enough for me to hear.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I say, sliding away from Orlin before he gets any ideas. “I think I may have to go vomit.”

I’m out the door and halfway to the elevators before Tomas catches up with me.

“Jules, come on. It wasn’t what it looked like,” he pleads, his voice full of desperation.

I stop and turn to face him, taking in his familiar features. A thousand painful memories crash down on me, suffocating me. The endless lies he’s fed me over the years flood my mind. The man can’t open his mouth without either lying or a woman’s tongue going in.

“It looked like she was about to stick her tongue in your ear,” I say, my voice icy.

“I don’t even know her!” he protests, his eyes wide with feigned innocence. “I swear to god, I have no idea what that was about. She said she was a hooker. Maybe she’s just soliciting business?”

“She called you gorgeous,” I retort, incredulous. When he doesn’t answer, I carry on. “Well, she came to the right place with you, didn’t she? How much of our money did you throw away on hookers over the years so we couldn’t afford to send the kids to university? You’re a cheat, Tomas Perez.” I say, prodding him in the chest. “You always were, and you always will be.”

I turn on my heels and march toward the elevators, slamming my palm on the call button.

“I swear I don’t know her,” he calls out after me as I step into the elevator and pray for the doors to close quickly so he can’t see the tears forming in my eyes. Tomas Perez is the only man that’s ever made me cry, and he’s had way too many of my tears in the past. Finally, the doors close. I wipe my eyes on the back of my hand and pull myself up straight. I will not let that man hurt me ever again.