L.J. Shen.The Monster-Amazon Kindle

TheMonster
Copyright?2021byL.J.Shen

Allrightsreserved.Nopartofthispublicationmaybereproduced,distributed,ortransmittedinanyformorbyanymeans,includingphotocopying,recording,orotherelectronicormechanicalmethods,withoutpriorconsentofthepublisher,exceptinthecaseofbriefquotationembodiedincriticalreviewsandcertainothernoncommercialusepermittedbycopyrightlaw.

Resemblancetoactualpersonsandthingslivingordead,locales,oreventsisentirelycoincidental.TitlePage
Copyright
AboutThisBook
Dedication
Playlist
Epigraph
Prologue
ChapterOne
ChapterTwo
ChapterThree
ChapterFour
ChapterFive
ChapterSix
ChapterSeven
ChapterEight
ChapterNine
ChapterTen
ChapterEleven
ChapterTwelve
ChapterThirteen
ChapterFourteen
ChapterFifteen
ChapterSixteen
ChapterSeventeen
ChapterEighteen
ChapterNineteen
ChapterTwenty
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Stayconnected
AlsobyL.J.Shen
PrettyRecklessExcerpt
Prologue

“Maybewewerenevermeantforeachother.Butthatnightatthecarnival,whenyoushowedmewhoyouwere,IfiguredoutwhoIwantedtobe.”

ThemostimportantthingI’deverreadwasscribbledonthedoorofaportablerestroom,engravedintoplasticatacarnivalontheoutskirtsofBoston.
Lustlingers,lovestays.
Lustisimpatient,lovewaits.
Lustburns,lovewarms.
Lustdestroys,butlove?Lovekills.
Maybeitwasalwaysmydestinytofallinlovewithamonster.
Whenotherkidsstayedawakeatnightfearingthepointy-toothedbeasthidingintheircloset,Ilongedtoseemine.
Iwantedtofeedit,domesticateit,understandit.
SamandIwereonlyallowedtoloveeachotherinthedark.
Onceourstoryunfolded,andthetruthcametolight,Iwastheonetocutthecord.
MynameisAislingFitzpatrick,andIhaveaconfessiontomake.
SamBrennanisnottheonlymonsterinthisstory.

Tomonsterseverywhere,andtosword-yieldingPangandJan.Thankyouforstormingintomylife.“YouAreinLovewithaPsycho”—Kasabian
“Rock&RollQueen”—TheSubways
“I’mNotinLove”—KelseyLu
“GoodGirlsBadBoys”—FallinginReverse
“Wow”—ZaraLarsson
“ListenUp”—TheGossip
“TheEndoftheWorld”—SkeeterDavis

“Whatwouldanoceanbewithoutamonsterlurkinginthedark?Itwouldbelikesleepwithoutdreams.”
—WernerHerzog
Age9

Thisisthelasttimeyouevercryinyourlife,shithead.
Thatwastheonlythingthatwentthroughmyheadwhenthewomanwhogavebirthtomepunchedthedoorbellfivetimesinarow,clutchingthebackofmyshirtlikeshewasdisposingofsomepunkwho’dTP’dherhouseonherneighbor’sdoorstep.
ThedoortoUncleTroy’spenthouseswungopen.Sheshovedmepastthethreshold
“Here.Allyours.Youwin.”
IflungmyselfintothearmsofAuntSparrow,whostaggeredbackward,pullingmetoherchestinaprotectivehug.
SparrowandTroyBrennanweren’treallymyauntanduncle,butIspentalotoftimewiththem—andby‘alot’,Imeanstillnotenough.
Cat,AKAthewomanwhobirthedme,wasgivingmeaway.She’dmadeuphermindtonightwhenshe’dpassedbyme,onherwaytoherbedroom.
“Whyareyousosmall?Pam’skidisyourage,andheis,like,huge.”
“Becauseyouneverfuckingfeedme.”Iflungmyjoysticktotheside,givingherstinkeye.
“You’re,like,tenoreleven,Samuel!Makeyourselfasandwich.”
Iwasanine-year-oldandamalnourishedoneatthat.Butshewasright.Ishouldmakemyselfasandwich.Iwouldifwehadtheingredientsforit.Thereweren’tevencondimentsinourhouse,onlydrugparaphernaliaandenoughboozetofilltheCharlesRiver.
NotthatCatcared.ShewasblindwithragebecauseIstolehercocaineandsoldittosomewiseguysdownthestreetthenusedthemoneytobuyfourMcMealsandaNerfgun,whensheleftmeunattendedtonight.
GrandmaMariawastheonewhodidtheheavyliftingwhenitcametoraisingme.Shelivedwithus,workingtwojobstosupportus.Catalinawasinthebackground,likeapieceoffurniture.There,butnotreally.Welivedunderthesameroof,butshemovedoutwheneverherboyfriendswerewhippedenoughtoletherstaywiththem.Shewenttorehabcenters,anddatedmarriedmen,andsomehowhadmoneytobuyexpensivebagsandshoes.KidsatschoolkepttellingmetheirdadssaidCatknewthecurveofeverymattressatourlocalMotel6,andeventhoughIwasn’tsurewhatitmeant,Iwassureitwasn’tgood.
IonceeavesdroppedonUncleTroytellingher,“HeisnotthefuckingHamptons,Cat.Youcan’tvisithimperiodically,whentheweatherallowsit.”
Catalinahadtoldhimtoshuthistrap.ThatIwastheworstmistakeshehadevermadewhileshewashigh.
Thatday,Igotexpelled.BeattheshitoutofNeilDeMarcoforsayinghisdadandmomweregettingadivorcebecauseofmymom.
“Yourmom’saslut,andnowIhavetomovetoasmallerhouse!Ihateyou!”
I’dgivenhimadifferentreasontohatemebythetimeIwasdonewithhim,onehewouldalwaysrememberbecauseitchangedhisface.
WhenCatpickedmeup,she’dyelledatmethatshe’dfuckupmyfacelikeI’ddonetoNeil,butIwasn’tworthbreakinghernewnailsover.I’dbarelyheardher.Everythinginsidemyheadwasswollenfromthefightandfromthoughtsthatmademyheadhurt.
ButIknewshe’dbetoocheaptotakemetoUrgentCare,soIdidn’tcomplain.
“Allours?”AuntSparrownarrowedhergreeneyesatCatalina.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?TodayisnotourdaywithSam.”
AuntSparrowhadredhairandfrecklesandabodylikeascarecrow,allbonesandskin.Shewasn’tasprettyasCatalina,butIstilllovedhermore.
Catrolledhereyes,kickingtheduffelbagwithmystuff.IthitUncleTroy’sshins.
“Don’tpretendlikeyouhaven’tbeengunningforthisallalong.Youtakehimonyourfamilyvacations,hehasaroomhere,andyougotoallhissoccergames.You’dbreastfeedhimifyouhadanytits,whichsadly,youdon’t.”CatalinaswipedhereyesalongSparrow’sbody.“Youalwayswantedhim.He’llcompleteyourboringlittlefamily,withyourboringlittledaughter.Well,it’syourluckyday,becausetheassholeisofficiallyyours.”
IswallowedhardandglaredstraightaheadattheflatscreenTVbehindSparrow’sshoulder.Theirlivingroomwasamess.Thegoodkindofmess.Toysstrewneverywhere,pinkfluffyblankets,andapurple,glitterytoddlerscooter.Bravewasplayingonthescreen.ItwasSailor’sfavoritemovie.Shewasprobablyasleep.
Shehadabedtime.Rules.Aroutine.
SailorwasTroyandSparrow’stwo-year-old.Ilovedherlikeasister.WhenevershefearedamonsterwashidingunderherbedandIwasthere,she’dslipoutofhertoddlerbedandpadintomyroomandslideundermyblanket,clutchingmelikeIwasateddybear.
“Keepmethafe,Sammy.”
“Always,Sail.”
“Notinfrontofthekid.”TroysteppedtowardCat,puttingspacebetweenherandme.Mystomachgrowled,remindingmeIhadn’teatensincethoseMcMealsI’dshoveddownmythroat.
“Sam,canyougiveusaminute?”Sparrowranherfingersthroughmydustyhair.“IgotyouthatGhostofTsushimavideogame,likeyouasked.Grabasnackandplaywhilewefinishuphere.”
Itooksomebeefjerky—UncleTroytoldmeproteinwouldhelpmegrowtaller—anddisappearedintothehallway,roundingthecornerbutnotgettingintomyroom.I’dhadmyownroomheresinceIwasinfirstgrade.GrandmaMariasaiditwasbecauseTroyandSparrowlivedinagoodschooldistrict,andweneededtheirzipcodetoregister,butevenafterIgotexpelledfrommyfirstschool,Istillcamehereoften.
My“real”housewasinabadneighborhoodinSouthie,wheretennisshoeslitteredeverypowerline,andevenifyoudidn’tpickfights,you’dsureashellneedtofinishtheminordertosurvive.
Eavesdropping,IheardTroygrowl,“Whatthefuck?”fromthedoorway.Ilikedhowhesaidtheword‘fuck.’Thesoundofitgavemewhiplash,andtheskinonmyarmsturnedallfunny.“Mariahasbarelybeengoneforthreeweeks,andyou’realreadypullingshadyshit.”
GrandmaMariapassedawayinhersleeplessthanamonthago.Iwastheonewho’dfoundher.Cathadbeenoutallnight,“working.”I’dheldGramsandcrieduntilIcouldn’topenmyeyesanymore.WhenCatfinallygothome,withwhiskeybreathandsmudgedmakeup,shetoldmeitwasallmyfault.
ThatGramswastootiredofmybullshitanddecidedtobail.
“Can’tblameherforkickin’thebucket,kid.I’ddothesameifIcould!”
Ipackedmyduffelbagthatsamemorningandhiditundermybed.
I’dknownCatwasn’tgoingtokeepme.
“Firstofall,watchyourmouth.I’mstillgrieving.Ilostmymotherunexpectedly,youknow,”Catalinahuffed.
“Toughshit.Samneverhadhismothertobeginwith.”Troy’svoicemadethewallsrattle,evenwhenhespokecalmly.
“Theboyisuntamable.Dumbasabrickandasaggressiveasastraydog.Mestickingaroundain’tgonnahelp.It’sonlyamatteroftimebeforehelandsinjuvie,”mymotherspat.“He’samonster.”
Thatwashernicknameforme.Monster.
TheMonsterdidthis.
TheMonsterdidthat.
“Look,Idon’tcarewhatyouandyourperfectlittlewifethink.It’sjusttoomuchresponsibility.I’mout.Ican’tsendhimtotherapyandshitlikethat.I’mnotmadeoutofmoney.”Catalinastubbedherheelonthefloor.IheardherrummagingthroughherChanelbagforhercigarettes.Shewasn’tgonnafindthem.Ismokedhalfthepackinthebackyardwhileshewasgettinghighinherbedroom.Therestwereinmybag.
“Ifmoneyisanissue—”Sparrowstarted.
“Bitch,please,”Catcutintoherwordsviciously,spluttering.“Keepyourmoney.AndIhopeyouarenotdumbenoughtothinkyou’rebetterthanme,withallthehelpyou’regettingfromyourhusbandandharemofnanniesandtutors.Sam’sthespawnoftheDevil.Ican’tdothisalone.”
“You’renotdoingthisalone,”Troygroundout.“Wehavesharedcustodyofhim,idiot.”
Fireblazedinmychest.Ididn’tknowSparrowandTroyhadlegalcustodyoverme.Ididn’tknowwhatitmeant,butitsoundedimportant.
“EitheryoutakehimorIdrophimoffatanorphanage,”Catyawned.
Inaway,Iwasrelieved.IalwaysknewonceGramsdied,Catalinawouldgetridofme.Ispentthelastfewweeksworryingshe’dsetthehouseonfirewithmeinittogetinsurancemoneyorsomething.AtleastIwasstillalive.
Iknewmymotherdidn’tloveme.Sheneverlookedatme.Whenshedid,shetoldmeIremindedherofhim
“SameEdwardCullenhair.Samedead,grayeyes.”
Himwasmylatefather,BrockGreystone.Beforehedied,hewasemployedbyTroyBrennan.BrockGreystonewasweakandpatheticandaweasel.Arat.Everyonesaidso.Grams,Cat,Troy.
Myworstnightmarewasbecominglikehim,whichwaswhyCatalinaalwaystoldmeIwassomuchlikehim.
ThentherewasUncleTroy.Iknewhewasabadman,buthewasanhonorableone,too.
Thewiseguysdownmyblocksaidhehadbloodonhishands.
Thathethreatened,tortured,andkilledpeople.
NobodymessedwithTroy.Nobodykickedhimoutofthehouseoryelledathimortoldhimhewastheirworstmistake.Andhehadthatthingabouthim,like…likehewasmadeoutofmarble.SometimesIlookedathischestandwassurprisedtoseeitmoved.
IwantedtobehimsomuchthatwhenIthoughtaboutitmybonesbegantohurt.
Hisexistencejustseemedlouderthananyoneelse’s.
WheneverUncleTroydisappearedinthemiddleofthenight,healwayscamebackbruisedanddisheveled.He’dbringdunksandignorethefacthesmelledofgunpowderandblood.Hewouldtellusbadjokesatthetablewhileweate,andtomakesureSailorwasn’tscaredanymore,he’dtellherhesawthemonsterfamilythatlivedinherclosetmoveout
Onetimehebledalloveradonut,andSailorhadeatenitbecauseshethoughtitwasChristmasfrosting.AuntSparrowwasclosetonuclearexplosion.She’dchasedhimaroundthekitchenwithabroomstickwhileSailandIgiggled,swattingitaboutandactuallycatchinghiseartwice.Whenshefinallycaughthim(onlybecausehelether),hecapturedbothherwristsandloweredhertothefloorandkissedherhardonthemouth.IthoughtIsawsometongue,too,butthensheswattedhischestandgiggled.
Everyonewassohappyandlaughedsomuch,Sailorhadanaccident,andsheneverhadaccidentsanymore.
ButthenI’dfeltmychesttightenbecauseIknewthey’dsendmebacktoCatlaterthatafternoon.ItremindedmeIwasn’treallyapartoftheirfamily.
ItwastheonlygoodmomentIhad.I’dplayitoverandover,lyinginmybed,everytimeIheardCat’sbedspringswhineundertheweightofastranger.
“We’lltakehim,”Sparrowannouncedcoldly.“Offyougo.We’llsendyouthepaperworkassoonasourlawyerdraftsthedocuments.”
Mychestfilledwithsomethingwarmjustthen.SomethingI’dneverfeltbefore.Icouldn’tstopit.Itfeltgood.Hope?Opportunity?Icouldn’tputanameonit.
“Red,”Troybreathedhiswife’snickname.
Andjustlikethat,myinsidesturnedcoldagain.Hedidn’twanttoadoptme.Whywouldhe?Theyalreadyhadoneperfectdaughter.Sailorwascuteandfunnyandnormal.Shedidn’tgetintofights,hadn’tbeenexpelledthreetimes,anddefinitelyhadn’tbrokensixbonesinherbodydoingdangerousshitbecausepainremindedhershewasstillalive.
Iwasn’tanidiot.IknewwhereIwasheaded—thestreets.Kidslikemedidn’tgetadopted.Theygotintotrouble.
“No,”Sparrowsnappedathim.“I’vemadeupmymind.”
Nobodyspokeforamoment.Igotreallyscared.IwantedtoshakeCatandtellherhowmuchIhatedher.Thatsheshould’vediedinsteadofGrandmaMaria.Thatshedeservedtodie.Withallherdrugsandboyfriendsandrehabtrips.
Inevertoldanyonehowsheusedtogivemeshotsofrumtomakemesleep.WheneverTroyorSparrowpaidussurprisevisits,she’drubwhitepowderonmygumstowakemeup.She’dcurseunderherbreath,threateningtoburnmeifIdidn’twakeup.
IwassevenwhenIrealizedIwasanaddict.
IfIdidn’tgetthewhitepowderdaily,IshookandsweatedandscreamedintomypillowuntilIranoutofenergyandpassedout.
IwaseightwhenIkickedthehabit.
I’djustrefusedtolethergivemerumorpowder.Wentcrazyeverytimeshecamenearmewiththatstuff.Once,IbitCat’sarmsobadapartofherskinstayedinmymouth,saltyandmetallicandhardagainstmyteeth.
Shenevertriedagainafterthat.
“You’refuckingluckymywifeisstubbornashell,”Troyhissed.“We’lltakeSam,buttherewillbestipulations—andmanyofthem.”
“Shocker,”Catbitout.“Let’shearthem.”
“You’llhandhimoverandsignallthelegalpaperwork,nonegotiationsandwithoutaskingforapenny.”
“Done,”Catcackledhumorlessly.
“You’llfuckofffromBoston.Movefaraway.AndwhenIsayfar,Catalina,Imeansomewherehecan’tseeyou.Wherethememoryofhisdeadbeatmotherdoesn’tburnhot.Anotherplanetispreferable,butsincewecan’triskaliensmeetingyouandthinkingwe’reallcunts,twostatesawayminimumismyrequirement.Andifyouevercomeback—whichIsincerelyrecommendagainst—you’llgothroughmeifyouwannaseehim.Youwalkawayfromhimnow,youloseallyourmotherlyprivileges.IfIcatchyoumessingwiththiskid,mykid…”hepausedforemphasis“…Iwillgiveyoutheslow,painfuldeathyou’vebeenbeggingforalmostadecade,andIwillmakeyouwatchyourowndeathinthemirror,youvainwasteofoxygen.”
Ibelievedhim.
Iknewshedid,too.
“You’llneverseemeagain.”Cat’svoicerattled,likeherthroatwasfullofcoins.“Heisrottentothecore,Troy.That’swhyyoulovehim.Youseeyourselfinhim.Hisdarknesscallstoyou.”
ThatwaswhenIturnedintoapillarofsalt.Oratleastthat’showitfelt.Iwasafraidifsomeonetouchedme,Iwouldshatter.
IcouldbelikeTroy.
Ihaddarkness.Andviolence.Andallthethingsthatmadehimgreat.
Ihadthesamehungeranddisdainfortheworldandheartthatwasjustthat—aheart—withnothingmuchinsideit.
Icouldturnacorner.
Icouldbesomethingelse.
Icouldbesomething,period.
ThatwasapossibilityI’dneverconsideredbefore.
Catleftnotlongafter.ThenTroyandSparrowtalked.IheardTroypourhimselfadrink.TheydiscussedlawyersandwhattotellSailor.SparrowsuggestedtheysendmetoaMontessorischool,whatevertheheckthatwas.Itiptoedmywaytobed,tootiredtocareaboutmyownfuture.Mykneesknockedtogether,andIfeltthebeefjerkycrawlingupmythroat.Imadeapitstopinthebathroomandpukedmygutsout.
Orphan.Amistake.Amonster.
Ididn’tknowhowmuchtimepassedbeforetheywalkedintomyroom.
Ipretendedtobeasleep.Ididn’twanttotalk.AllIwantedtodowastolietherewithmyeyesclosed,scaredthatthey’ddecidetheydidn’twantmeafterallorthattheyweregoingtotellmesomethingIdidn’twanttohear.
IfeltmybeddipasSparrowsatonitsedge.IhadBostonCelticsgreenandwhitelinen,aPlayStation,aTV,andaBillRusselljerseyhangingonmywall.MyroomwaspaintedgreenandfullofframedpicturesofmewithTroy,Sparrow,andSailoratDisney,Universal,andinHawaii.
MyroombackinCat’shousewasjustabed,adresser,andatrashcan.
Nopaint.Nopictures.Nonothing.
Ineveraskedmyselfwhy.
WhytheBrennanstookmein.
WhyIwasapartofthisfucked-uparrangement.
“Weknowyou’reawake.”Troy’swhiskeybreathfannedmyhairovermyeyes,makingmynosetwitch.“You’dbeanidiottofallasleeponanightlikethis,andmysonisnoidiot.”
Icrackedmyeyesopen.Hissilhouettetookupmostofmyroom.Sparrowputherhandonmyback,rubbingitincircles.
Ididn’tshatter.
Ireleasedabreath.
I’mnotapillarofsaltafterall.
“Areyoumyrealpops?”Iblurtedoutbutwasn’tbraveenoughtolookathimwhenIasked.“DidyouknockCatup?”
Ishould’veaskedthislongago.Itwastheonlythingthatmadesense.“You’dnevergivemethetimeofthedayotherwise.Youcan’tletmehangoutherejustbecauseGrandmaMariaoncescrubbedyourtoilets.AmIabastard?”
“You’renotabastard,andyou’renotmine,”Troysaidpoint-blank,avertinghisgazetothewindow.TheBostonskylinestretchedoutinfrontofhim.Allthethingsheownedandruled.“Notbiologically,anyway.”
“I’maGreystone,”Iinsisted.
“No,”hehissed.“You’reaBrennan.Greystonesdon’thavetheheartgene.”
I’dneverheardaboutthatgene.Thenagain,IskippedschoolmostdaysinfavorofsmokingcigarettesoutsidebarsandsellingwhateveritwasIstolethatdaytohelppayformynextmeal.
“Iain’tperfect,”Isatup,glowering.“Soifthat’swhatyouwant,someperfectyes-kid,kickmeoutnow.”
“Wedon’twantyoutobeperfect.”Sparrowrubbedmybackfaster,harder.“Wejustwantyoutobeours.YouareSamuel.AgiftfromGod.IntheBible,SamuelwasgiftedtoHannahafteryearsofpraying.Shethoughtshewasbarren.Doyouknowwhatbarrenmeans?”
“Awomanwhocan’thavekids.”Ishuddered.Tohavekids,youfirsthadtomakethem,andIknewexactlyhowpeoplewentaboutmakingthem—IcaughtCatalinapracticingabunchoftimeswithherclients—anditwasdamngross.
Sparrownodded.“AfterSailorwasborn,thedoctorstoldmeIcouldn’tconceiveagain.Turnedout,Ididn’thaveto.Ihaveyou.Yournamemeans‘TheLordHears’inHebrew.Shma-el.Godheardmyprayersandsurpassedmyeveryexpectation.You’reexquisite,Samuel.”
Exquisite.Ha.ThatwasawordI’duseforafamouspaintingorsomeshit,notanine-year-oldexcocaineaddict,recoveringalcoholic,whowasanactivesmoker,andhalfthesizeofkidsmyage.
Mychildhoodwassuchabust,myinnocenceandInolongersharedazipcode,andifshethoughtafewhome-cookedmealsandsomebackrubsweregoingtochangeit,well,shewasinforanunpleasantsurprise.
“TellmewhyI’mhere.WhyI’mnotinanorphanage.I’moldenoughtoknow,”Idemanded,ballingmyfistsreallyhard,clenchingmyjaw.“Anddon’ttalktomeabouttheBible.TheLordmayhaveheardHannah,butHesureasshitain’tbeenlisteningtome.”
“You’reherebecauseweloveyou,”SparrowsaidatthesametimeTroyanswered,“You’reherebecauseIkilledyourfather.”
Silencedescended.Sparrowshotupfrommybed,hereyesreallywideandreallybig,staringatherhusband.Hermouthhungopenlikeafish.Troycarriedon.
“Hesaidhedeservestoknow.He’snotwrong,Red.Thetruth,Sam,isthatshortlybeforeyourfatherdied,hekidnappedSparrowwitheveryintentionofkillingher.Ihadtosavemywifeanddidsowithoutthinkingtwice.Iwantedyoutohaveafatherfigure.Apersontolookupto.Theplanwastotakeyoutobasketballgameseverynowandagain.Provideguidance,advice,andafatcollegefundtokick-startyourlife;gettingattachedwasneverinmyplans,butithappened,anyway.”Helookedmerightintheeye.“VeryearlyonIrealizedyouwerenotaproject.Youwerefamily.”
“Youkilledmyfather,”Iechoed.
IknewBrockGreystonewasdead,butCatalinaandGrandmaMariaalwayssaidithappenedinanaccident.
“Yes,”hesaidsimply.
“Whoknows?”
“You.Me.Cat.AuntSparrow.God.”
“DidGodforgiveyou?”
Troysmirked.“Hegavemeyou.”
Dependingonwhoyouasked,thatcouldbeseenasapunishment.
NowBrockwasdead,andCatwasgone.TheBrennansweremyonlyshotatsurvival,whetherIlikeditornot.
“Allright?”Troyasked.WithhisSouthieaccent,itcameoutas“Aight?”
Istaredathim,notsurewhattothinkordo.
“I’mgoingtogogetsomedunksnow.”Heleaneddowntograbmyshoulderbag,retrievingCat’spackofcigarettesfromit.Itwasclosetomidnight.Hewasdefinitelygoingtooneofhis“businesses.”
“Donutsalwaysmakeeverythingbetter,”Sparrowpointedout,carryingonwiththelie.“Besafe,honey.”
Hebentdowntokissthetopofherhead.“Always,Red.Andyou…”hetousledmyhairwithhismassivepalm“…nomorecigarettes.Thisshitcouldsendyoutoanearlygrave.”
ThatwasthemomentIdecidedIwasgoingtosmokeuntilmylungscollapsed.NotbecauseIwantedtodefyUncleTroy,butbecausedyingyoungdidn’tseemlikeabadidea.
Whenheleft,IturnedtoSparrow.Mynerveswereshot.Icouldn’ttrustmyselfnottovomitagain,butthistimeinherlap.AndInevervomited,nevercried.
“Hedidn’twanttotakeme,”Isaid.
Sheranherfingersthroughmyhair,brushingitbacktonormal.“No,hedidn’t.Butonlybecausehedidn’twantyourmothertowalkoutofyourlife.”
“Butyoudidn’tgiveashitaboutthat.Why?”
“BecauseIknownomotherisbetterthanabadmother,andeverydayyouwerewithhermademyhearthurt.”
“Gramsleft,too.”
“Shedidn’tleave,honey.Shedied.Itwasn’tuptoher.”
“Idon’tcare.Ihatewomen.Ihatethem.”
“Onedayyou’llfindsomeonewhochangesyourmind.”Sparrowsmiledprivately,likesheknewsomethingIdidn’t.Shewaswrong.
GramsdiedandleftmewithCat.
Catalmostkilledmemultipletimes.
Womenweren’treliable.Menweren’teither,butmenIcouldatleastpunchinthenuts,andmennevermadeanypromises.Ididn’thaveafatheroragrandfathertogetmadat.
“Iwillneverchangemymind,”Imuttered,fightingmyheavyeyelidsthatdemandedIpassout.
IcrashedinSparrow’sarmshoursafterTroyleft.
WhenIwokeupthenextmorning,Ifoundagoldenchainonmynightstand.
IscannedtheSaintAnthonycharmonit.Myinitialswasengravedaroundthecoin.

S.A.B.

SamuelAustinBrennan.
Yearslater,I’dlearnTroyandSparrowpetitionedtolegallychangedmynamefromGreystonetoBrennanthesamehourtheyfiledforfullcustodyofme.
IknewwhoSaintAnthonywas,thePatronSaintofalllostthings.
Iwaslost,butnowI’dbeenfound.
Nexttothenecklacewasapaperplatewithaglazeddonutandahotcupofcocoa.
IwasaBrennannow.
Bostonunderworldaristocracy.
Privileged,respected,andfearedaboveall.
Alegendinthemaking.
Iintendedtoliveuptomynamesakeatanyprice.
Iwouldneverbelostagain.
Myparentsfailed,butme?I’dprevail.
Iwouldrisefromtheashesandmakethemproud.
Wouldsoarintothesky.
ThiswasthefirsttimeIfeltthisway.
Certain.

Age17.

Theheartwasamonster.
That’swhyitwaslockedbehindourribs,inacage.
I’dknownthisallalong,fromthemomentIwasborn,buttonightIfeltit,too.
TwentyminutesaftertakingtheMassPikeoutofBoston,IfinallycametotermswiththefactthatIwaslost.
Idrovewiththewindowsrolleddown,thehumidsummerairwhippingatmywetcheeks.Thetearskeptoncoming.
Thescentofspring’sblossomslingeredinmynostrils,headyandsweet,mixingwiththecrispnessofthenight.
Sheisnevergoingtosmellspringblossomsagain.
Tosmilelopsidedly,likesheisholdingthesecretsoftheuniversebetweenherlips.
Topressadressagainstmychestandshimmyhershouldersexcitedly,exclaimingit’s,“Tresyou!”
Why’dyouhavetodothis,B?
Ihateyou,Ihateyou,Ihateyou.
Inthedistance,neonlightsflashedfromstripedyellowandredtents.TherewasagiantsigninthemiddleofaglitteringFerriswheel.
AquilaFair.
Drown.
Ineededtodrown.
Inlightsandsmellsandnoises,withsimplelivesthatweren’tmine.
Itookasharpturnright.
IparkedamongtheSUVs,beat-upvehicles,andsportscars,stumblingoutoftheVolvoinmyblackhoodie,cut-offshorts,andsneakers.TheDaisyDukesweremydoing.Itookscissorstoanoldpairofjeansandcutthemoffsothatthecurveofmyasswasvisibleevenfromspace.MyattireusuallyresembledthatofKateMiddleton.Prim,proper,andprincess-like.Buttonight,Iwantedtopissherofffordyingonme.Togiveherthemiddlefingerfornotstickingaround.
“Americangirlsshowskinlikemendon’tknowwhatawaitsundertheirgarments.You,moncheri,willmakeamanearneveryinchofyou,anddressappropriatelyanddemurely,youhear?”
Myfeetcarriedmeforward,themouthwateringfragranceofcottoncandy,butteredpopcorn,andcandyappletricklingintomysystem.
Shedidn’tlikeitwhenIatejunkfood.
SaidAmericanswereinthehabitofeatingthemselvesintotype2diabetes.ShehadalotofideasaboutAmericans,allofthemborderingonxenophobic,andIusedtospendhalfmytimearguingthemeritsofAmericawithher.
Tentsthatofferedliveshows,vendors,andasmallarcadesurroundedtherides,servingasaborder.Theding-ding-dingofmachines,pepperedwiththemechanicalnoisesfromtherides,reverberatedinmyemptystomach.TheFerriswheelsittinginthecenterwasbathedinanoceanoflights.
IboughtmyselfpinkcottoncandyandaDietCokeandwalkedaround.
Therewerecouplesmakingout,laughing,fighting.Clustersofteenagersyellingandhooting.Parentsscreaming.Childrenrunning.Iwasirrationally,maddeninglyangrywithallofthem.
Forbeingalive.
Fornotgrievingwithme.
Fortakingforgrantedtherarityoftheirpreciouscondition:alive,healthy,andwell.
Itossedtheremainderofcottoncandyintoatrashcanandlookedaround,decidingwhatridetogoonfirst.Fromthecornerofmyeye,Inoticedagiantsign.
TheCreepShow:AHauntedMansionExperience
Hauntedmansionsweremyplayground.
Ilivedinone,afterall—myhouseheldthesecretsofsevengenerationsofFitzpatricks—andI’dalwaysbeendrawntoghostsandmonsters.
Itookmyplaceinline,shiftingfromfoottofootasIcheckedmyphone.Mymotherandbrotherswerealllookingforme.
Cillian:Whereareyou,Aisling?Callmebackimmediately.
Hunter:Yo,sis.Youokay?Soundslikeyouwereinvolvedinsomeheavyshit.SendinghugzfromCali.
Mother:Iheardwhathappened.Quiteterrible,dear.Pleasecomehomesowecandiscussthis.Sodreadfulthatyousawthis.
Mother:YouknowhowbadmyanxietygetswhenIcan’tgetholdofyou.Youneedtocomebackhome,Ash.
Mother:Oh,Aisling,whatamItodo?Youdidn’tevenmakemyherbalteabeforeyouleft.I’mawreckoverhere!
Thatwasmymother.Self-centeredevenwhenitwasmyworldimplodingintominisculepieces.Alwaysworriedforherownwell-beingbeforemine.
Ituckedmyphonebackinmypocketandcranedmynecktolookatthecartsastheyslidbackfromthejawsofanevil,laughingclown.Muffledscreamsbledfromtheinsideoftheride.Thepeoplewhocameoutsteppedoutofthecartswithwobblyknees,buzzingwithexcitement.
WhenIwasfinallyputinoneofthewagons—itlookedlikearicketypodwithredpaintsmearedalloverittosymbolizeblood—Iwasalone,eventhoughtherewasenoughspacefortwopeople.
Iknewnothingwouldhappentomeonafairride.
Still,Ifeltlost,fragile,andunbearablylonelytonight.Likesomeonehadpeeledawaymyskininonegoandleftmetocarrymybonesandveinsandmusclesinamessyheap.
I’djustlostmybestfriend.Theonlyonethatcounted.
Igrabbedontotheshirtsleeveoftheguymanningtheride,tugging.
“Iwanttogetoff.”
Hegavemeaslowonce-over,hisgazelingeringasecondtoolongonmybarethighs.
“Hell,sugar,I’dliketogetyouoff,too.Butyou’llhavetowaittilltheendofmyshift.Ineedthemoney,”heslurred,soundingstoned.
IclutchedontohisHurleyhoodiesleeve,throwingfourteenyearsofetiquettelessonsoutthewindowinonemomentofdesperation.“No!Iwanttogetofftheride.Unlessyoucanputsomeoneinthecartwithme?”Hopetrickledintomyvoice.
“Bro,it’s,like,arideanyonefourfeetorovercangeton.”Heshookmytouchoff,frowning.“You’llmakeitoutalive.”
“Iknow.It’snotthatI’mscared.Ijust—”
“Look…”heraisedahandtostopmystreamofwords“…ifIdon’tpressthatredbuttonoverthereeverythreeminutes,Ilosemyjob.Yougettingoutorsuckingitup?”
Iwasabouttoanswerthatitwasfine,thatIwasjustbeingsilly,whensomeonesteppedforward,cuttingtheentirelinebehindthem.
“She’llsuckitup,SirSmokes-a-Lot.”
Acurtainofunshedtearsblockedmyvision,andIknewifIblinkeditaway,everyonewouldseeIwascrying.IwassoembarrassedIwantedtodie.BlurryStonerGuypushedthemetalrailopenobediently,mutteringaquickhellotothestrangerapproachingus,duckinghisheaddown.
Thepersonslidintomycart,pullingthemetalbaragainstourwaists,flickingacigarettesideways,anumbrellaofsmokecocooningustogether.
Iwipedmyeyes,mouthingamortifiedthankyou.WhenIlookedup,ourgazescollided,andmyinsidescrushedlikeaglassceilingshatteredbyasupernova.
Him.
Ididn’tknowhim,butIdreamedofhim.
I’ddreamedofthismaneverynightsinceIwasnine.
SinceI’dstartedreadingkissingbooksunderthecoversaboutbraveknightsandtheprincesseswholovedthem.
Beautifulandprincely,witheyesthatcouldseethroughyoursoul.
Helookedtobeinhisearlytwenties.Withtawny,wind-swepthairtousledinuntidysexiness.Hiseyesweretwosilvermoons—thekindthatchangecolorindifferentlights.Hisskinglowed,likehe’dbeendippedingold,andhewassotallhiskneespokedoutofthecart.HeworeablackV-neckthatclungontohismuscularchestandbicepsandblackjeansrippedattheknees.
ASaintAnthonycharmwaswrappedaroundhisneck,heldbyatatteredleatherstring.
“I—I’mAisling.”Istuckmyhandouttohim.Ourcartjerkedforwardandwhinedastwogirlsmyagejumpedintothepodbehindus,gossipinghotlyaboutagirlnamedEmmabellewhousedtogotoschoolwiththemandapparentlyhadsexwithhalfthefootballteamthensuckedofftheotherhalf.
Heignoredmyoutstretchedhand.Iswallowed,withdrawingmyhandanddumpingitinmylap.
“Badnight?”Hiseyeslingeredonmypuffyeyes.
“Theworst.”Ididn’tevenhavethegoodmannerstosmilepolitely.
“Ihighlydoubtthat.”
“Oh,I’llbetyouanythingmynightisgoingworsethananyoneelse’sinthiscarnival.”
Heofferedmeanarchedeyebrow,showingmehishandsomenesshadadevilishqualitytoit,thekindIsuspectedveryfewwomencouldresist.
“Iwouldn’tbetwithme.”
“Oh?Why’sthat?”
“Ialwayswin.”
“There’safirsttimeforeverything,”Imurmured,startingtothinkhewasalittletooconfidentformyliking.“IbetyouanythingI’mhavingtheworstnightoutofallthepeopleinthiscarnival.”
“Isthatright?Anything?”
“Withinreason.”Istraightenedmyback,rememberingmyself.Shealwaystoldmetobehaveacertainway.Ifshewasaghosthoveringabovemerightnow,shewouldnotappreciatemyattire.TheleastIcoulddowasnotlosemyvirginitytothishandsomestrangerinastupidbet.
“I’mguessingyou’rethesensibleone.”Hetwistedhislighterbetweenhislongfingers,backandforth,amovementIfoundoddlysoothing.
“One,outof…?”
“Yoursiblings.”
“HowdoyouknowIhavesiblingsatall?”Ifeltmyeyebrowsriseinsurprise.
Hestaredatmeboldly,hiseyessayingthingsnostrangerhadanybusinesstellingme.Itwasliketheworldwashis,andsinceIwasapartofit,hecouldhaveme,too.Suddenly,Irealizedwhateverwashappeningherewasveryoddandatleastsomewhatdangerous.
Iwantedtostripforthisman,andI’dneverwantedtostripforanyman,foranyreason,especiallynotromanticreasons—andIdidn’tmeanjustmyclothes.
Iwantedtomakehimexplodelikeapi?ata,clawingintohisgut,unearthingeverysinglequality,trait,andbadhabitthathehad.Whowashe?Whatwashisstory?Whydidhetalktome?
“Youthinkyou’renothingspecial,”hesaidsoftly.
“Dopeoplethinkthey’respecial?”
“Thosewhoaren’tdo.”
“I’mguessingyou’rethetroublemakeroutofyoursiblings.”Ituckedmyhairbehindmyears.Hesmirked,andIfeltitinmybones.Thewaytheairheatedupjustbecausehewascontent.
“Bingo.”
“Youmust’vebeenahelliongrowingup.”Icockedmyheadsideways,asifadifferentanglewouldshowmeapictureofhimwhenhewasnineorten.
“Iwassuchatroublemaker,mymotherthrewmeoutwhenIwasnine.”
“Oh,I’msorry,”Ipipedup.
“I’mnot.Idodgedabullet.”
“Andyourdad?”
“Hedidn’t.”Themanretrievedacigarettepackhekeptinhisrolled-upshirtsleeve,a-laJackNicholsoninOneFlewOvertheCuckoo’sNest.Hecuppedhispalmoverhismouthandlitanothercancerstick.InoticedStonerGuysawanddidn’tsayaword.“HewasshotwhenIwasakid.”
“Deservingly?”Iheardmyselfask.
“Verymuchso.”HotStrangersuckedonhiscigarette,theorangeemberflaringlikethatthingbehindmyribcage.“How’boutyourfolks?”
“Bothalive.”
“Butsomeoneelseisn’t.Otherwise,youwouldn’tbecrying.”Heexhaledaspiralofsmokeskyward.Webothwatchedasthegraymistaboveusevaporated.
“Ilostsomeonetonight,”Iadmitted.
“Who?”
“Nooffense,butthat’snoneofyourbusiness.”
“Nonetaken,butjustfortherecord…”hetiltedmychinupwiththehandholdinghiscigarette“…everythinginSuffolkCountyismyfuckingbusiness,sweetheart,andrightnow,you’rewithincountylimits,sothinkagain.”
Anoddfeelingwashedoverme.Fear,desire,andkinshipbattledinsideme.Hewasdirectandaggressive,afighter.Asunlikelyasitsounded,IknewheandIwerecrackedinthesameplace,eventhoughwe’dbothbeenbrokenindifferentways.
Ourcartbegantomove,slicingthroughablackvinylcurtain.Agiant,plasticzombieleanedforwardfromaveilofgreensmoke,laughinglowlyintomyear.
“Themonster’sgonnagetya.”
Therewerebeaststwirling,screamingzombiesthatspatwaterinourfaces,andafamilyofcorpseshavingdinner.Ababy’sredeyesshotlasersatus.
Thetrainofcartsascendedtothetop,slowandsteady.Peopleallaroundussqueakedinexcitement.
“Doyoueverfeellost?”Iwhispered.
Thestrangerlacedhisfingerswithmineonthescratchedplasticbenchbeneathus.Hishandwaswarm,dry,andcalloused.Minewascold,soft,andsweaty.Ididn’tpullaway,evenwhendangerbeganhummingaroundme,thickeningtheair,deprivingmefromoxygen.
Playwithmonsters,butdon’tbesurprisedwhenyougetbeaten.
“No.Ihadtofindmyselfatayoungage.”
“Luckyyou.”
“Iwouldn’tusethatwordtodescribeme.”Hechuckled.
“NotIrish,then?”Icouldn’thelpbutprobe.
Hedidn’tlookIrish—hewastootall,toobroad,tootan—buthehadthatSouthieaccentmostblue-collarIrishmensported.
“Dependsonhowyoulookatit,”heanswered.“Backtothesubjectathand—yourbeinglost.”
“Yes,right.”Iclearedmythroat,thinkingaboutheragain.“Idon’tthinkI’lleverfindmyself.Idon’thavemanyfriends.Infact,Ionlyhadonereallytruefriend,andshediedtoday.”
“Thereisnothingtofind.Lifeisnotaboutfindingyourself.It’saboutcreatingyourself.There’ssomethingliberatingaboutknowingyourownbones,allthethingsyouarecapableof.Beingunapologeticallyyourselfmakesyouinvincible.”Hisvoiceseepedintome,hittingroots.Ourfingerstightenedtogether.Ourcartjerkedhereandtherewhilezombiessentarmsflyinginourdirection,tryingtocatchus.Peoplearoundusgiggledandscreamed.
Hehadn’tsaidhewassorryformylosslikeeveryoneelsehad.“Andwhoareyou?”Ibreathed.
“I’mamonster.”
“No,really,”Iprotested.
“It’strue.Ithriveinthedark.Myjobistoimplementfear,andIamsomepeople’snightmare.Likeallmonsters,IalwaystakewhatIwant.”
Wereachedthehighestpoint.Thepeak.
“AndwhatIwantrightnow,Aisling,istokissyou.”
Thecartjerkedback,screeched,thentippeddown,fallingatanincreasingspeed.
Thestrangermuffledmyscreamwithhismouth.Hishot,saltylipssealedminepossessively.Allmyinhibitions,fears,andanxietyevaporated.Hetastedofcigarettes,mintgum,andsex.Likeaman.Iletgooftherails,clutchingthethinfabricofhisblackshirt,drawinghimclose,drowninginwhatwewereinthatmoment.Amonsterdevouringaprincess,withnoknightinsighttosaveher.
Hetiltedhisheadandcuppedmycheek,hisotherhandcradlingthebackofmyhead.Histongueproddedmymouthopen,touchingmine—gentlyatfirst—beforeIletourkissdeepen.Ourtonguestwistedtogether,dancing,teasing,searching.Mystomachdipped,andmyanxietydissolved.
Theworldfeltdifferent.Brighter.Bigger.
Warmthpooledbetweenmylegs,andmygroinrockedforwardonitsownaccord.Ifeltachinglyempty.IsqueezedmythighstogetherjustasIfeltalashoffreshaironmyface.
Theridewasover.
Wewerebackout.
Hebrokeourkiss,drawingback,hisfaceexpressionless.Terrifyinglycalm.
Thegirlsinthecartbehindusmumbled“holyshit”and“thatwashot”and“yeah,it’sdefinitelyhim,Tiff.”
Himwho?
“Firstkiss,huh?”Hewipedasmudgeofsalivafromthecornerofmymouthwithhisthumb,coldamusementdancinginhiseyes.LikeIwasatoy.Somethinglaughable,replaceable.“You’llgetthehangofit.”
Thegirlsbehindusgiggled.MysoulfiredupitsimaginarylaptopandopenedZillowinsearchofasuitableplacetoburymyselffromshame.
“Areyouseriouslynotgoingtotellmeyourname?”Myvoicecameouthoarse.Iclearedmythroat.“Imagineifyoureallyweremyfirstkiss.Icouldbescarredforlife.Youmighttraumatizeme.I’dneverbeabletotrustanothermanagain.”
StonerGuyflungthemetalbaropen,stridingdownthelineofcarts.“Time’sup.Everybodyout.”
Thestrangersmoothedmyhairawayfrommyface.
“You’llsurvive,”hecroaked.
“Don’tbesosure.”
“Don’tunderestimateme.Iknowawholefuckinglotaboutpeople.Besides,Ialreadytoldyou,mynameisMonster.”
“Now,thatmightbeyournickname—”Istarted.
“Nicknamesaremoretellingthanbirthnames.”
Ihappenedtoagree.Myfathercalledmyolderbrother,Cillian,MoOrga,whichmeant“mygolden”inIrishGaelic,andmymiddlebrother,Hunter,CeannBeag,whichmeant“littleone.”
Henevernicknamedmeanything.
Mynamemeantvision,adream.Perhapsthat’sallIwastomyfather.Somethingthatwasn’treal,tangible,orimportant.Iwasmeanttobeanidea.Aprettyvesselforhimtoparadeandexhibit.
Alittledaughter,pretty,prim,andproper,withoutthepressureofbreedingmeforsomebigrole.Totakeoverhiscompanyoneday.Togivehimmaleheirstocontinuehislegacy.Iwasmymother’sgiftfromhim,andIplayedmyrole,dotingoverher,fulfillinghereverywhim,andfillingthehourshewasawayonbusinesswithshoppingtrips,doingeachother’shair,andmore.
NowIwasplanningtogotomedschoolsowhenIgraduated,Icouldalsotakecareofherphysically.JaneFitzpatrickalwaysdiddetestvisitingherdoctors.Shesaidtheywerejudgingher,misunderstandingher.
Icouldn’twaitforthedayI’dbequalifiedtoreplaceherphysicianandcheckanotherboxintheimpossiblewishlistmyparentshadsetoutforme.
“I’mnotafraidofmonsters.”Isquaredmyshoulders.
Pleasedwithmyanswer,heflickedmychin.“Maybeyou’reoneofus.Youjustsaidyourselfyoudon’tknowwhoyouare.”
Itriedtogoafterhim.Iwasn’ttooproudtofollowhimaround,askhimwhathemeant.Buthewasquicker,slidingoutofthecartquickly,andwiththeferalgraceofatiger,hewalkedaway.
Hedisappearedinthethrongofswirlinglightsandbodies,evaporatingintothinair,asmonstersdid.
Icameheretodrown.
Now,Icouldhardlybreathe.
Threehourslater,Iwasstillbuzzingwithadrenalineandpain.Itriedalltherides.Atetoomuchcandy.Drankrootbeeronabenchandpeople-watched.Thedistractiondidnotdullthepain.IcontinuedtoplaythemomentIfoundoutshewasdeadoverandoveragaininmyheadlikeIwastryingtopunishmyselffor…what?Notstoppingit?Notgettingtheresooner?
TherewasnothingIcouldhavedonetopreventit.
Wasn’tthere?Sheaskedyouforhelp.Younevergaveittoher.
IlookedforMonsterallnight,evenwhenIdidn’tmeanto.Myeyeswandered,scanningthelinesandcouplesandthrongsofpeople.IwonderedifI’dmadehimupinmyhead.Everythingaboutourencounterseemedunreal.
WhenItookarestroombreakattheportabletoilets,Inoticedthebackofthedoorwasfreshlyengravedwithwords.Wordsthatseemedintimatelydirectedtomyeyes.
Lustlingers,lovestays.
Lustisimpatient,lovewaits.
Lustburns,lovewarms.
Lustdestroys,butlove?Lovekills.
S.A.B.
Whentheclockhitmidnight,Igaveup.Iwasn’tgoingtofindhim.
Myphonewasblowingup,andIknewmyparentsweregoingtosendasearchunitifIdidn’tcomebackhome.
Amissingseventeen-year-oldgirlwasanon-issueifithadonlybeeneighthourssinceyou’dlastseenher.
Amissingseventeen-year-oldoilheiresswhosedaddywasoneoftherichestmenintheworldsurewas,though,andIhadnodoubtmyfamilywouldraisearuckus
IwasaFitzpatrick,andFitzpatricksshouldalwaysbeprotected.
Iglancedatmyphoneagain.
Mother:Iamgettingincreasinglyworried.Justtextme,please.Iunderstandthatyouareupset,butyouareupsettingusallbydisappearinglikethis!Icannotgetanysleep.YouknowhowmuchIneedmysleep.
Mother:Yourfatherwillbeblamingmeforthisentireordeal.Idohopethispleasesyou,Aisling.Gettingmeintotrouble.
Oh,Merde.Putalidonit,Mother.
Hunter:Dawillhaveaheartattack,sis.Justsayin’(morehugzfromCali).
Cillian:Stopbeingsoemotional.Shewasthehiredhelp.
Da:Iamsorryforyourloss,Ash.Pleasecomehome.
LeavescrunchedbeneathmyfeetasImademywaytoMom’sVolvoXC90.Iwasabouttoswingthedooropen,getinside,andgunitbacktoAveburyCourtManor,ourhouse.ThatwaswhenIheardit.Acrunchthathadnothingtodowithmyfeet.Myheadsnappedupinthedarkness.Towardtheedgeoftheparkinglot,aboutthreecarsdownfrommyvehicle,wasacornernestledbetweenathicklineoftreesleadingtothewoodsbythehighway.Secludedanddark.
“No,no,no.Please.IknowIfuckedup,butIpromise,I’llstop.”
Someonewailed.Aman.
Isquinted,duckingbetweenmycarandanImpala,peekingatthetwofiguresunderathickmassofleaves.Oneofthemwasstanding,holdingagun.Theotherwasonhisknees,infrontofthestandingfigure,likehewasprayingtoamercilessgod.MaybeitwasthefactI’dalreadywitnessedonedeathtonight,buteventhoughmyadrenalinekickedin,Icouldn’tmusterthehysteriaIprobablyoughttofeelrightnow.
“Lyingwillgetyounowhere,”thestandingmanclippedharshly.
“WhatmakesyouthinkI’m—”
“Yourlipsaremoving,”thestandingmankickedthemanonhiskneeswiththetipofhisshoe,elicitingananimalisticwail.“Itoldyoutherewon’tbeathirdtime.”
“ButI—”
“Onelastwish,Mason,”themantsked,andmybloodrancoldbecauseIrecognizedthatvoice.Iwouldrecognizeitanywhere,Irealized,fromtonightuntiltheverylastdayofmylife.
ItwasthevoiceofMonster.
Mymonster.
Themanwhogavememyfirstkiss.
Theguyonhiskneeswastrembling,tryingtocontainhisfrightenedtears.Heshookhisheadthenfinally,blurtedout,“IfNikkiasks,tellheritwasdrug-related.Idon’twanthertoknowthetruth.She’ssufferedenough.”
“Iwill.Goodbye.”
Withthat,Monsterusedthegunpressedtotheman’sforeheadandpoppedofftwobullets.Fromthedullthuds,Igatheredtherewasasilenceronthegun.Islappedahandovermymouth,mufflingahorrifiedscreamthatrippedoutofmythroat.
He’dkilledaman.
He’dkilledamanoutintheopen.
Andhehadn’tevenblinked
Mylegsshook,andIfelltotheground,theconcretebitingintomyknees.Iscrambledformykeysinmyhoodie,mykneeshotwithfreshbloodoozingoutofthemfrommyfall.
Run,Merde.Run.
IunlockedtheVolvoandglidedintothedriver’sseat,franticallywipingthetearsandsweatfrommyfacetoclearmyvision,bitingonmylowerliptosuppressascream.
Thisnightisnothappening.It’sjustafigmentofyourimagination.
Aslamonthewindowbesidememademejumpsohighmyheadhitthecar’sroof.ItwistedmywholebodyandsawitwasMonster.Hemust’vecaughtsightofme,orworse…heardmyscream.Withshakingfingers,Istartedthecar,blindedbytears.TheMonsterjammedsomethingintothesideofthedoorcasually,unlockingitwithterrifyingease,preventingmefromthrowingthecarintoreverse.
Heparkedhishandsonthecar’sroof,hisbicepsbulgingfromhisshortsleeves,lookingblaséandindifferent.
“You’rehavingonehellofanight,aren’tyou,littleAisling.”Thedeadlycalminhisvoicemadeeverythingsomuchworse.
“Ididn’tseeanything,”Iexclaimed,jerkingback,likehewasgoingtostrikeme.
Tomysurprise,hestartedlaughing.Wholeheartedly.Agutturalnoisethatsoundedweirdcomingfromhim,likehewasn’tusedtolaughing.
“NowyoubelievethatI’mamonster?”Heleanedforward,hislipshoveringclosetomine.Mybloodturnedtoice,andyet,forthelifeofme,Icouldn’tpullawaythistime.Itmustbetheshock,Itoldmyself.Thiswasafight-or-flightsituation,butmytraitorousbodywentforsecretoptionnumberthree:freeze.
No.Thiswasn’tjustfear.Therewassomethingelsethrownintothemix.Somethinghotandpungent.SomethingIdidn’twanttoknowaboutmyself.
Knowyourbones.
Thisbeastjustputtwobulletsinsomeone’shead,andyethereIwas,mybodyhumming,sizzling,beggingtobetouchedbyhim.
“Areyouactuallygoingtoletmekissyou?”Hefurrowedhisbrows,hislipspracticallymovingovermine.Iwasspellbound.Speechless.Ihadtomove.
Move,Merde.Move.
Finally,Imanagedtoshakemyheadno.
Hetuggedmylowerlipbetweenhisteeth,suckingonitteasinglythenswipinghistongueovertheinsideofit.
“You’reabeautifulliar,Aisling.”Hislowtenorvibratedinmystomach.“Guessyoufoundyourself,then.You’reamonster,too.”Hekissedmeagain,withlipsandteeth,beforefinallypullingaway.
“Tellanyoneaboutthis,andIwillfindyou,andIwillkillyou,too.Now,Isuggestyourun.Farandfast.I’mgivingyouatwo-minuteheadstartbeforecomingafteryourass.”
Withthat,heturnedaroundandambledaway,thestreetlampscatchinghissilhouetteandmakinghimlooklikethecomplexvillainyousecretlyrootforinafilmnoir,slidingintoacarparkedarowfrommine.
Slow.Steady.Lethal.
Iflooredit,neverlookingback.
Drivingsofast,thecarwhinedanddiedassoonasIgothome.
ShortlyaftertheAquilaFair,mybrotherHuntercamebackfromCaliforniaforgood.
Golden,tan,andblonderthanever.HemovedintoapenthousedowntownwithagirlnamedSailor,who’dbeenhiredashisbabysitter.I’dseenherafewtimes,whenhermotherusedtocookforusonspecialoccasions.
Dalikedtoruleallofuswithanironfist,andHunterwasbyfarthehardesttotame.
AfewdaysafterHunterandSailormovedintogether,I’dvisitedhimathispenthouse.Sailorwasout,andhewastakingoneofhisextraslongshowers,whichIsuspectedinvolvedalotofself-pleasuring,seeingashewasn’tallowedtodateanyonesincemovingbacktoBoston.
Igavemyselfatouraroundthelivingroom,whichlookedlikeithadbeenstagedbyaprofessionalbeforebeingputonthemarketforsale.Everythingwastooneat,tooshiny,toomoderntolooklivable.Theonlyhintthatpeopleactuallylivedherewasarowofpicturessittingonthemantelbythefloor-to-ceilingwindow.Evenbeforeapproachingthem,IknewtheywereputtherebySailor,notHunter.
Hunterneverdidconsiderhimselftohaveatruefamily,andseeingashe’dlivedawayfromthehousesinceagesix,Icouldn’texactlyblamehim.
Mycuriositygotthebetterofme,andIwalkedovertothemantel.Thefirstpicturewasoftheyoungredheadedwoman,whichIrecognizedasSailor,herfaceyouthfulandfulloffreckles,huggingamiddle-aged,dark-hairedmanandanolderreplicaofherself,whomIrecognizedasSparrow.
Thesecondpicturewasoftheredheadedgirlatapartywithtwoblondewomenherage.Theywerealllaughing,wearinggoofyneonsunglasses.
IrecognizedthemasthePenrosesisters.Theywereonthelocalnewstheotherday,forshovelingsnowoutsideseniorcitizens’houses.
Thethird…
ThethirdwasapictureofSailorandtheMonster.
Mymonster.
Theguyfromthecarnival.
Hestaredintothecamera,lookinggrimandserious,whileshelookedathimlikehewasthemoon.Herspotoflightintheendlessdarkness.
“Yup.That’sher.Myball-bustingroommate,”Iheardavoicebehindmeandjumpedbackwithagasp,slappingahandovermychest,afraidmyheartwouldaccidentallyleapout.
IturnedaroundquicklyandofferedHunterapolitesmile.Wewerestillmoreacquaintancesthansiblings.
“Shelooksbeautiful.”
Heshrugged,saunteringdeeperintothelivingroomwithatowelwrappedaroundhiswaistandnothingelse,hisblondhairdrippingwater.“She’sokay.”
“I’mguessingthoseareherparents.”Ipointedatthefirstpicture,playinginnocent.Henodded.
“Andthesetwo?”ImovedtothePenrosesisters,playingdumb.Myheartpoundedinmychest.Ididn’tknowwhy,butIhadafeelingaboutthesegirls.Thisgroup.Iwantedtobeapartofthem.
“PersephoneandEmmabelle.Herbestfriends.They’resisters.AnotherbucketlistdreamIcan’tfulfillbecauseSailorisonmycase.”
“Whatdoyoumean?Whatdoyouwanttodotothem?”
“Iwanttodothem.”Herolledhiseyes,lookingatmelikeIwasacompletemoron.
“Andwhoisthisguy?”Iaskednonchalantly,pointingatMonster.Thiswasit.Mybigmomenttofindouthisname.Ididn’tknowwhatIwasgoingtodoifIfoundouthewasherboyfriend.HowcouldItellmybrotherthathewaslivingwithawomanwhowasdatingamurderer?
Butno.Thatwasn’tthethingthatbotheredmethemostabouttheideaofSailorandMonsterbeingtogether.Itwasthefactthathehadagirlfriend.Thathehadmovedon.Ofcoursehewould.Allwesharedwasakissandathemeparkride
IthoughtIwasgoingtobesick.
“That’sSamBrennan.”Hunterranhisfingersthroughhishair,pushingitback.“Herbrother.Well,adoptivebrother,Iguess.Herparentsadoptedhimwhenshewasbarelyatoddler.ArealpieceofworkandthecurrentnumberonemobsterinBoston.AllthegangsandmafiafamiliesontheEastCoasthaveabountyonhishead.Hischancesofreachinganoldagearebelowzero.”
TheMonsterwasamobster.
Nosurprisesthere.
Butnowhehadaname,anidentity,acontext.
Thingswereabouttobecomeverycomplicated.
Aisling18,Sam26.

“Forheaven’ssake,Aisling,whatareyoudoing?They’rehere.Hurryup!”Motherchidedme,herheelsclickingonthemarblefloorbehindme.Mymother’sdelicatefingerswrappedaroundmywrist,tuggingme.
“Comeon,youknowIdon’tdosmalltalkverywell.You’llneedtosavemefrommingling.Especiallywiththematriarch.Sheworksforaliving.YouknowIdon’tdowellwiththemiddleclass.”
Ifollowedhertothefoyer,aboulderthesizeofConnecticutsettlinginthepitofmystomach.
TodaywasthedaymyparentsdecidedtoinviteSailor’sfamilyfordinner.MotherwantedtogettoknowtheBrennans.Well,thatwashermainexcuse.Really,shejustwantedtoforceHuntertovisither.
EventhoughHunterwasagainstthearrangement,I’dmetSailorplentyoftimessincetheymovedintogether.Webecamefastfriendsafterapeculiarcharityballwe’dbothattended,inwhichsheintroducedmetoPersephoneandEmmabelle.
Shewasfunny,quick-witted,andloyal.ButnomatterhowmuchItried,Icouldn’tgethertotalkaboutSam.Shewascrazyprotectiveofhim,andeverytimeIaskedaboutherfamily,shechangedthesubject.
Thebutlersswungthedoubledoorsopen.TheBrennansstoodontheotherside.Mrs.Brennan,withtangerinehairandsharpemeraldeyes,heldasteamingdishinherhand.
Sam’seagleeyessnappedtomine.Theunpleasantcurlofhislipswarnedmenottoactlikewe’dpreviouslymet.Seeingeachotherwasn’tasurprisetoeitherofus.IhadnodoubtSamknewhissisterlivedwithmybrother.
Heneverbotheredtoseekmeout.
Myfather,oblivioustomygiganticinternalmeltdown,conductedtheintroductions.
“Andthisismydaughter,Aisling.”Athair—fatherinGaelic—wavedhishandinmydirection,likeIwasadecorativeornament.GeraldFitzpatrickwasaplumpmanwithafacethecolorofashrimp,beadyeyes,andthreechins.
Samofferedmehalfanod,barelyglancingmyway.
“Pleasuretomeetyou,”Isaidsteely.Samignoredme.
MybrotherCillianstoodtallandimposingyetstilllookedsmallincomparisontoSam.
“Don’tevenlookather,Mr.Brennan.Aislingisprimerib.Notahotdogandthereforenotonyourmenu.”
“Cillian,forshame.”Motherclutchedherpearls,likeshehadn’tsharedhisopinion.Samgrinned,takinghisphoneoutandcheckingsomething,likeourpresencearoundhimdidn’tevenregister.
CillianwalkedovertoTroy,Sam’sdad.
“MayIofferyouandyourwifeatourofAveburyCourtManor?”
Themansizedhimup.MyguesswasourmansioninterestedTroyBrennanjustatadlessthanthestateoftheweatherinGambia.
“Youmay,butI’llpass,”Troydrawled,“onthegroundsthatyou’reacun—”
“We’dloveatour!”Sparrowelbowedherhusband’sside.
Samtuckedhisphonebackinhispocket,indifferenttotheawkwardness.Judgingbytheintroductionsalone,tonightwasgoingtobelongandpainful.
“Aisling,gowiththemwhileIcheckonthecook.Seeiftheyneedanything,”Motherinstructed,andIknewwhatitmeant.
KeepthemcompanysoIdon’thaveto.SoIcanfixmyselfadrinkandhideinmyroomalittlelonger.
IfellintostepbehindTroy,Sparrow,Cillian,andSam.Hiscasualjeansandteewerereplacedwithgrayslacksandablackbutton-downshirt.Hishairwascroppedclosertohisscalp.Hisshouldersweresobroadtheyblockedhalfthehallway.
Weweretheonlytwopeoplewhodidn’tengageinsmalltalk,althoughbothTroyandCillianseemedpainfullyboredwithSparrow’ssourdoughbreadrecipe,whichincludedlettingthedough“rest”inthesun,feedingit,talkingtoit,andgenerallytreatingitlikeaTamagotchi.
Weascendedthestairstothesecondfloor.Myhousewasterrible.Soullessandglitzy,likeanendlesshotellobby.Limestoneandgoldaccentswinkedfromeverydirection;dramaticcurtainsandfountainsattackedyoureyeballsnomatterwhereyoulooked.Ifnouveaurichehadaface,itwouldbeAveburyCourtManor.
CillianshowedtheBrennanstheleftwing,alsoknownasthefamilyhall,filingthroughourroomsasherecitedourfamily’shistorylikeweweretheKennedys
Samslowedhisstridegradually.Atfirst,Ididn’tthinkitwasintentional,butsoon,wewerewalkingatthesamepace,eightfeetawayfromtherest.
Hewasthefirsttospeak.
“Sufferingfromajockitch?”
Igaveanunwaveringsmilethatdidnothingtocalmmynervesbutdidn’tanswer.Hispresencealonehadmefeelingdisoriented,excited,andmanic.
“You’reawfullyslow,”hecontinued.Hishuskyvoicetrickledintomysystem,likesweetvenom.
“You’reawfullyrude.”
Istaredaheadatourfamilies’backs.CillianwasstandinginfrontofaportraitofCormacFitzpatrick,thefirst-generationFitzpatrickwhoarrivedinBostonaftertheGreatFamine.TroyandSparrowlookedaboutreadytoflingthemselvesouttheFrenchwindows.
“Foundyourselfyet?”heinquired.
Notevenclose.
Ifeltmycheeksreddeningundermymakeup.“Ihadabadnightthatnight.”
“Thatdoesn’tanswermyquestion.”Hechuckled.
Cillianshotusafrown.“Hurryup.Andremember,Brennan,I’mwatchingyou.”
Samsmiledatmybrother,whowasonlyafewyearsolderthanhim.“Likewhatyousee,Fitzpatrick?”
“Notevenremotely.”Cilliannarrowedhiseyes.
“Awordtothewise:Idon’tlikebeingtoldwhattodo,butfortherightprice,Icanbemotivatedintodoingjustaboutanything.”
“Andyou’reproudofthat?”Cilliandrawled.
“Immensely.You’llbeliningupformyservicestheminuteDaddyisn’tabletopullyououtofwhateverbullshityougetyourselfinto.”
“Don’tholdyourbreath,”Cillianmuttered.
Samslowedhispace.Itdidn’tsurprisemeSamdidn’tcareaboutCillian’swarnings.
“Mybrotherisacharacter,”Isaiddefensively.
“That’sjustanicewayofcallingsomeoneanasshole.Sailortellsmeyou’regoingtomedschool.”
Inoddedcurtly.
“Why?”
“Iwanttohelppeople.”
“No,youdon’t.”
Weofficiallylostourfamilies.CillianwastoobusyshowingSparrowandTroythelibrary,ourfamily’sprideandjoy.Samsteppedunderalittlealcovewithawindowoverlookingourvineyard,snatchingmywristandtuggingmewithhimoutofsight.
Igasped,diggingmynailsintomypalms,half-crescentsofanxietyandanticipationdentingmyskin.
“Youkeptyourmouthshut.”Helookedatmelikehewantedtotouchme.
Iknewwhathemeant.Ineverwenttothepolice.Neversaidanythingaboutthemanhekilled.
“I’mtrustworthy.”
“Mostpeoplearen’t,”hesaid.
“I’mnotmostpeople.”
“I’mstartingtoseethat.Listencarefullynow.Yourdaddyisaveryrichandimportantman,andI’maveryambitiousandaverybadman.Iwanthisbusiness,andnothingisgoingtostandinmyway,leastofallyou.Sostaythefuckawayfrommeanddon’tgivemethosepuppyeyes,beggingtobefuckedrightthereinfrontofyourentireimmediatefamily,likeyouaredoingrightnow.Youhavenoideawhatyou’reaskingfor.Menlikemeeatgirlslikeyouforbreakfast.Andnotinapleasurableway.Yougotthat?”
Idid.Thegamewasoverbeforeithadevenstarted.Samwasamonster,andIwasaprincessstuckinanivorytower,boundtobesavedbysomeoneelse.Hisadversary,probably.
Inodded,eventhoughmyheadhurtandthebackofmynoseandeyespinchedwithtears.
“Yes.But…”
Heraisedaneyebrow,waitingformore.Ididn’tknowwhattosay.
“Yes?”hehissed,finally.
“Onelastkiss,”Imurmured.“Iwon’ttell.YouknowI’dnevertell.”
Heseemedtoconsiderthis,beforetiltinghisheaddowntowardmine.
“Onekiss,”hewhispered,hisbodybrushingmine.“Onelastmeasly,stupidkiss.Anddon’tyoudarecomebackformoreagain.”
Mylipsfellopen.
Hegavemealustful,devastatingkiss.Itwasboldanddemandingandsexy,anditcreatedadamp,coldspotinmypanties.Hesuckedmylowerlipintohismouth,andIwhimpered,bitinghimdesperatelyinresponse,notsurewhatIwasdoingbutdoingitanyway.Myhandsfoundhishair,touslingit.Histonguestrokedmine.Iwantedtofeelitbetweenmylegs,andbrushedmybreastsagainsthischest,chasingthefriction.
Helaughedintomymouth.
“You’referal.”
“Iknow,”Igrumbled.“I’msorry.”
“Don’tbe.Ifuckingloveit.”
Love.Thewayhesaidthatwordmademytoescurlinsidemypumps.
Hegrabbedmebymybuttcheeksandhoistedmesothatmythighsencircledhisleg.Hisfingersdugintomyfleshashegroundmeupanddownhismuscularthigh,givingmemuchmorethanthefrictionIwasafter.Eachmovementmademyclitscrapeagainstthefabricofmypanties.Itwaslikehewasrubbingtwotwigstogethertocreatefire,andthefirewasaclimax,climbingupmyspinefrommytoes.
“IfeellikeI’m…I’m…”Itriedtoarticulatewhatitwas,butIcouldn’t.Itfeltlikefloatingandcrashingatthesametime.Iwasquivering.Iwantedhimtodomoreofthethingsheknewhowtodothatwouldmakemefeelthisway.
“Empty?”hehissedintomymouth,histonguewrestlingmine.
“Yes.That’sit.Ifeelsoempty.”
“IwishIcouldfillyouwithmyfatcock.”
“Oh,”Icriedasherubbedmeagainsthimfasterandharder,andeverythinginsidemeclenched,mymusclesbunching.
“God…I’m…Imean,amI…?”
TherewasnothingIhatedmorethannotknowing.Ikneweverythingtherewastolearnfromtextbooksandwebminers.ButIdidn’tknowthis.Itmademefeellikeakid.Likeacliché.
Helaughedwhenithappened.Whenawaveofwarmpleasuredescendedonmybody,littleearthquakeseverywhere.
“Ithinkyoudid.”Hekissedmedeeper,hishandseverywhereonme,histhumbslidingupmytorso,rubbingatmynippleunderthefabricofmydress.
“Huh,”Isighedintohismouth,“Lapetitemort.”
Hetorehislipsfrommine,frowningatme.
“Saywhat,now?”
“Lapetitemort,”Irepeated.“Abriefunconsciousness.Alittledeath,inFrench.That’swhattheycallthatbeatafteranorgasm,sometimes.”
MyFrenchgovernesshadtoldmethat.Sam’seyestwinkledwithsomuchdelight,mychestflaredwithpride.Hissmileswerelikehumanhandprints.Eachonewasjustdifferentenoughtobecompletelyunique.
“You,AislingFitzpatrick,arealovelytorture.”
Hebrokeourkiss.Everythingwasblurry,andmypantieswerereally,reallywet.
Ipressedmyfingertipstomylips.“Ohgosh,whatdidwedo?”
Hislipswereswollenandbruised,butotherwise,helookedcoolandcollected.
“Iassumethatwasrhetorical,soI’llspareyoutheanswer.”Hewasalreadyfishingforthecigarettepackinhisbackpocket.
“Doyouhaveagirlfriend?”Iblurtedout.
Hechuckled,acigaretteclaspedbetweenhisstraightwhiteteeth.“Don’tworryaboutmyhavinggirlfriends.Ineverwill.”
“Whynot?”
“Becausenowomanisworthit,leastofallonethatisthespawnofamanI’dliketobleeddryofhismoney.”
Helituphiscigarette.Hisgothic,wintrygrayeyesfeltlikeicecubesrollingdownmyskin.
“Youknow,Iwouldnevertellifwehookedup.”Iswallowedmypride.EvenIdidn’tknowwhyIwantedhimsobadly.IjustknewIdid.HemademefeellikeIwasinaparalleluniversewheneverweweretogether.
“Ijusttoldyouthiswasourlastkiss.”
“Butwhy?”Iinsisted.
“BecauseIwantyourfather’sbusiness.”
“Iwon’ttell.”
“You’renotworththerisk.”Heshrugged,puffingawayonhiscigarette.
“Therewillbenorisk,”Isaid.Avoiceinsidemewarnedmethatthatwasenough.Itwasher
Hedoesn’twantyou,moncheri.Turnaroundandwalkaway.
ButIdidn’t.
SoSamlookeddownatme,frowning.
“Evenwithouttherisk,you’renotworthit.Youaretooyoung,tooinnocent,andfartoosweetforme.Nowdoyourself-respectafavorandwalkaway.”
Butitwastoolate.
Mypridetooksuchabeating,Ihadtoretaliate,eventhoughIhadabsolutelynotoolstodoso.
“Ifeelsorryforyou,”Isaid,feelingincrediblyun-sorryforhim,butincrediblysorryformyself.
“Youdo?”Hesmirked,humoringme.“Why?”
“Becauseyou’reahalf-literate,barelyeducateddropout.Youprobablydon’tevenknowthemultiplicationtable.That’swhyyoudowhatyoudo.Youdon’thaveachoice.”
“You’recallingmedumb?”Hissmilewidened,hiseyessparklingwithmischief
“Youaredumb.”Itippedmychinup.“Butit’sokay.You’rehotandoozethatlook-at-me-I’m-dangerousvibe,soI’msureyou’llfindsomeone.”
“Don’tforgetrich.”Hesnappedhisfingers.
“Notbymystandards,”Ismiledcoldly.Holyhell,itwaslikemymothertookovermymouth.“Justtrynottomakeconversation.You’renotverygoodatit.”
“Basedonyoudryhumpingmyleglikeabitchinheatfivesecondsago,I’msureI’llbeabletokeepthementertainedsomeotherway.”
Hiswordswerecrass,buthisnonchalantsmiledissolvedintoagrimmaskofcoldness.
“You…you…you…”
“I’m…I’m…I’m…what?”Heclappedmymouthshutbytappinghisfingertomychin,smirking.“Right?”
BeforeIcouldanswer,Samvanished.
Heignoredmefortherestoftheevening.
Fourhourslater,Icrawledbacktomyroom,stillinadazefromdinner.
Samhadimpressedeveryonewithhisdrywit,sharpmind,andthataurathatsurroundedhim.Theonethatpromisedaswiftyetpainfuldeathifyoucrossedhim.
Ifoundmyfinitemathematicstextbook—theoneI’dleftopenonmyQueenAnnedeskbecauseI’dbeenstuckonthesameproblemforaninfiniteamountoftime—glaringbackatme.
Igroanedandreachedforit,abouttocloseit.
“I’lltrysolvingyoutomorrow.Ihavebiggerproblemstoworkoutnow.”
LikehowIcannotstopobsessingoverBoston’smostnotoriousmobster.
Myhandstoppedovertheslick,chromepage.Iblinked.Theproblemwassolved,onlynotinmyhandwriting.
Infact,alltheproblemsonthepageweresolved.Everysingleoneofthem.
Howdidhe…?
“Areyoucallingmedumb?”
Yes,Idid.ButSamwasn’tdumb.Basedonthispagealone,hewasclosertoamathgenius.
Angrywithhim,andwithmyself,andwiththeworld,Islammedthemathbookshutwithathud.Anotefloateddowntothefloorfromit.Ipickeditup.

Wasthat,like,hard?

He’dquotedLegallyBlonde.
Andservedmemyownassintheprocess.
Ouch.
PresentDay.
Age27.

I’min.
Thethoughtmomentarilyderailedmefromeverythingelseteeminginmyhead.Thenoise,thepain,thesecondguesses.
IdescendedthestairstoBadlands,themostpopularnightclubinBoston.
I’dbeencategoricallybannedfromBadlands.I’devenbeenturnedawayatthedooronce,asthebouncerdrawled,“Bossshowedyourpicturearound,jailbait.Saidhe’llfireanyonewho’sdumbenoughtoletyouin.”
Iwastwenty-sixthen,butthatlittlefactdidn’tdeterhim.FromthemomentSamBrennanpurchasedthisclubtwoyearsago,usingitasahubforallhisbadseedydealing,herefusedtoletmesetfootinit,eventhoughmybrothershadbeenvisitinghereonaweeklybasis.
“Ican’tbelievetheydidn’tIDyou,bitch.Sam’sgonnashitsomanybricks,he’llbeabletobuildareplicaoftheEmpireStateBuilding!”Emmabelle—Belleforshort—hi-fivedme,whisper-shoutingasweshoulderedpasthipsters,brushingalongpsychedelicartdecowallpaperandneonfauxtaxidermy.
Bellewasmyonlypartnerincrimewhenitcametogoingoutonthetown,seeingasbothourotherfriends—Sailor,andEmmabelle’sbabysister,Persephone—werenewmothers,andthereforemoreinterestedincatchingpowernapsandexchangingbreastfeedingtipsthandowningdrinksatabar.
BellewasalsotheownerofMadameMayhem,anotoriouslysordidclubdowntown,andalwaysenjoyedsniffingaroundthecompetition,soconvincinghertocomeheretodaywasnoissue.
BadlandswasdarkerandsmallerthanI’dimaginedit.Drippingdecadence.Wereachedtheendofthestairway.Inoticedthattheclubwasnomorethanafewvelvetcouches,asmalldancefloorandalongbarmadeoutofblackwood.Abovethebar,small,vintagetelevisionswerelinedup,allofthemplayingthesameblack-and-whitemovie:Dr.Strangelove
“Fool’sGold”byTheStoneRosesplayedinthebackground,shakingthefloorbeneathmyknee-highleatherheels.
Partygoersincostumessniffedcocaineoffthebar,andtherewasacoupleatthefarcorneroftheclubhavingfull-blownsexonthecouch.Thegirl,dressedastheQueenofHearts,bouncedupanddownontheguywhilesittingonhislap,herdresscoveringtheirdirtydeed.
ThisclubwasSampersonified.Darkandwretchedyetoddlybeautiful.
Ismoothedahandovermyoutfit.ItwasHalloween.Agreatexcusetocovermytrueidentity.IwentforJuliaRobertsinPrettyWomanandputonashort,blondewig,completewithsunglasses,scarlet-redlipstick,andblueminiskirt,andcroppedwhitetop.
Bellehadcoveredherblondehairwitharavenwig,a-laUmaThurmaninPulpFiction.Sheblewonane-cigarettetheatrically,lookingaroundforhernextvictim.“Anyway,Sam’sanassholeforblacklistingyouinthefirstplace.”
“Sam’sanassholeformanyreasons,noneofthemhaveanythingtodowithblacklistingme,butbanningmefromhisclubfornoapparentreasonjustshowshowmuchofatyrantheis,”Imurmured.
Ididn’tspeakillofSamoften—oranyoneelse,forthatmatter—butwhenIdid,itwastoBelle,becauseIknewshewouldn’tjudgeme.
“DoyouthinkhediditbecauseyouareHunterandKill’ssister?”Belleasked.
“No,IthinkhediditbecauseIremindhimofallthethingshewantstoforget,”Isaidhonestlybutdidn’telaborate.
Thecarnival.
Thatkiss.
Ourconversation.
Samneverthoughthe’dseemeagain.Iwasn’tinhisplans,andwhateverwasn’tinhisplanshadtogo.Thatwaswhyhetreatedmeashehad—withindifferencedippedincruelty.Lookingpastmewheneverwewereinthesameroom.NeveracknowledginganythingIsaidordid.
BothBelleandIperchedonhighstoolsatthebar.Imotionedforthebartendertogetustwoginandtonics,doingmyabsolutebestnottoslumpand/orcryintosomeoneelse’sdrink.
Attwenty-seven,I’donlybeentobarsahandfuloftimes.I’dbeentoobusywithmedschooluntilasecondagotoreallydiveintotheclubscene,andnowIhadaresidency.Orsopeoplethought.Buttonight,Iwantedtodosomethingreckless,dangerous,andstupid.ToremindmyselfIwasalive.
Tonight,IwantedtoseekSamBrennanout,eventhoughIknewIshouldn’t.
Becausetonight,likethatothernight,Iwatchedsomeonedie.
Andwheneverdeathwasclose,sowasmyneedtocurlintothesoulofamonsterandhidefromtheworld.
Tomakematterscomplicated,IsawSamallthetime.
Atdinners,charityevents,andparties.
Hehadbeenworkingformyfamilyforalmostadecadenow.
Somehow,I’dlettheworsthappen.Icontinuedlovinghimfromafar,likethesunlovedthemoon.Coexisting,butdistantly.Eternallystar-crossed,butnevercloseenoughforcomfort.
We’dspokenverylittletoeachothersincethatevening,eventhoughourfamilieshadgrownclosetooneanotherthroughHunterandSailor.Seeinghimwasalwaysabittersweetcocktailofelationandpain.
I’dlearnedtogethighonbothfeelings.
“ForgetaboutSamtonight.”Bellesuckedonherstraw,inhalingtheginandtoniclikegettingtrashedwasanOlympiccompetition.Underhercostume,shewastheclosestthingtoMargotRobbieI’dseenup-close.Felineblueeyes,sunshineblondehair,delicatelyarchedbrows,andasinfullyfullbottomlip.
“Youhaven’tgoneoutoncesinceyoustartedyourresidencyatBrighamandWomen’sHospital.Thatwasoversixmonthsago.Findyourselfahookup.Havefun.Youearnedit,Doc.”
“Idon’tdohookups,”Ipointedout,crushingthelimewithmystrawinmydrinklikeitwrongedmesomehow.
“Timetochangethat.ItmakesnosensethatanOB-GYNintraining—awomanwholiterallytakescareofeveryoneelse’svagina—doesnotcareforherown.Youcan’tpineforanunrequitedpenis.Thereareplentyoffishinthesea.”
“Well,Isincerelyhopeyoudon’tgetmercurypoisoning,Belle,becauseyouseemtoenjoysamplingsaidfishabittoomuch.”Itookageneroussipofmydrink,knowingIsoundedprudishandregrettingmyremarkimmediately.
Bellethrewherheadbackandlaughed,farfromoffended.
“Oh,Ash,youareahoot.That’sthethingmostpeopledon’tknowaboutyou.Underneaththepolishedexterior,theAmericanPrincesslongsforthemonstertostealher,notfortheprincetosaveher.You’rekindofadangerouscreature,whenyouwanttobe.”
Thedrinkskeptoncoming,andtheindiemusicwasgoodandloud.Beforelong,Bellepulledmetothedancefloor,wherewegroundagainsteachothertothesoundofTheShins,TwoDoorCinemaClub,andInterpol.
TendrilsofmyblondewigstucktomyfaceandlipglossasIsweatedawaythememoriesoftoday’sshiftattheclinic,andIbeltedoutthewordsto“Runnin’withtheDevil”byVanHalenwithadrunk,elatedcrowd,onceagainusingnoiseandlightstodrownmysorrows.
Ms.B.
Needles.
Death.
Mother.
Despair.
Atsomepoint,Bellezeroedinonamanasshealwaysdid.
EmmabellePenrosewasaself-proclaimednon-monogamouswoman.Whileshewasn’tpredatory,shewasdefinitelynotlookingforaseriousrelationshipandlovednothingmorethanindulginginone-nightstands.Monogamousrelationshipswereaforeignconcepttoher,likeabidetorbrownsauce.Shewasawareitwassomethingotherpeopleenjoyed,butwasnevertemptedtotryitoutherself.Butintheraretimesshe’dpickedalover,beitawomanoraman,shewasfiercelydevotedtothemandmadethemfeellikethecenteroftheworld.
Whichwasprobablywhyshebrokemoreheartsthanshecouldcount.
Hervictimtonightwasatall,dark,andhandsometypedressedasZorro.
Theymethalfway,strikingupaconversationwhileIself-consciouslydancedbymyselfbeforeretreatingbacktothebar.
Shereappearedbymysidetenminuteslater.
“We’regoingtotheFourSeasons.He’sgotafriendinmanagementwhocanhookusupwithapresidentialsuite.Doesn’thegiveAntonioBanderasarunforhismoney?”Bellesankherteethintoherlowerlip,watchinghimfromacrosstheroomasheretrievedboththeircoatsfromthecloakroom,sendinghernervousglancestomakesureshedidn’trunawayorchangehermind.
Ileanedmyforearmsagainstthebar,smiling.“Definitely,butthecostume’sabitcheesy,no?”
“CheesierthanDomino’spizza.Luckily,I’mspendingonenightwithhim,notalifetime.”Bellewinked,smackingakissonmyforehead.
“HappyHalloween,Doc.Makesureyoudon’tleaveherealoneandtextmeifyouneedanything,yeah?”
Sheleftwithoutwaitingforananswer.
IentertainedtheideaofcallinganUberandgoinghome,butthenwhatwasthepoint?Myparentswerestillout,attendingoneoftheircharitydinners,whichwasthereasonIwashereinthefirstplace;normally,whenmymotherwashome,sheinsistedwespendtimetogether.Mybrotherswerewiththeirrespectivewivesandchildren.
I’dbegoingbacktoapointlessandexcessivelylargemanortodwellinmyownthoughts,darkmemories,andregrets.
Isignaledthebartendertogetmeanotherginandtonic,downedit,andgotbackonthedancefloor,dancingbymyself.
Tenminuteslater,aguyinaGhostbusteruniformbegandancinginmyvicinity,drawingclosertomeashedid.Helookedyoung.Youngerthanmyowntwenty-sevenyears.College-agedandblond,hisfacepinkfromthebiteoftheBostoncold.Wedancedaroundeachotherforawhilebeforeheyelledinmyear,“I’mChris.”
Ileanedforwardtoanswerhim,eventhoughIknewtherewasnowayChrisandIweregoinghometogether.Forbetterorworse,Iwasn’tthetypetogohomewitharandom.Iwasn’tanunbyanystretchoftheimagination,andIwasn’tdumbenoughtosavemyselfforSam,butIcouldalsocountontwofingersthemenI’dsleptwithinmylifetimeandknewtheiraddresses,fullnames,phonenumber,and—embarrassingly—collegegrades.
“Ash,”Ianswered,keepingitvague.
AshcouldmeanAshleyorAshlynn.
Aislingwasn’taverycommonname,andeveryoneknewtheFitzpatricksinBoston
“Youlookhotasfuck,Ash.”Helickedhislips,undressingmewithhiseyes.
“Thanks.”Ismiledgrimly,mentallyputtingmyclothesbackon.
“CanIbuyyouadrink?”
IwasawareIwastreadingintotipsyterritory,butIwasstillfarfromdrunk.Inodded.“Anythingbottledworks.I’llopenitmyself.”
“Youdon’thaveabottleopener.”
“Ihaveteeth,”Ireplied.
Literally.Figuratively.
Hearchedabrow,grinning.
“Righton.”
Chrisbroughtmeabeer.Wedancedsomemore.When“HeadsWillRoll”bytheYeahYeahYeahsstarted,Chrisshiftedbehindmeandbegangrindingagainstmyass.Hewashard,andIwasoverit.Overeverything,really.Especiallytoday.
Iwasn’tgoingtoseeSamtonight.Hewasn’there.Mywholeplanwasabust,anditwastimetocutmylossesandlickmywoundsbackhome,whereIcouldatleastdrownmysorrowsinmorealcoholwithoutriskinggettingraped.
“It’sbeenfun,Chris.Thanks.Haveagoodnight.”Igrabbedmysmallclutchandturnedtowardthestairway,butChrishadotherideas.Hesnatchedmebythearm,pullingmebacktothebusydancefloor,hisrancidvodkabreathwaftingtowardmyface.
“Notsoquick,PrettyWoman.Where’smythankyouforthebeer?”
Ah-ha
Hewasoneofthosementhatthoughtbuyingagirlonedrinkgotthemadirectticketintotheirpanties.Ireachedintomyclutch,pluckedacrispten-dollarbillandthrewitinhisdirection,smirkingasitfloatedbetweenus,sailingdownlikeafeatherallthewaytothestickyfloor.
“Here.Buyyourselfsomethingnice.Maybethecommonsensenottosexuallyharasswomen.”
Iswiveledonmyheelagain.Hesnatchedmyarmagain.Thistime,heyankedmecloser,mybodyslammingagainsthis.Myheartbegantostrumerraticallyashisfingersdugintomyflesh,leavingringsofbruises.
“Nuhuh.Ihavesomethingelseinmindforpayment.”
“ThenIsuggestyourethinkit,becauseI’mnotthattypeofgirl.”
“Isthatwhyyou’redressedlikeawhore?”Heraisedachallengingbrow.“Sparemethespeech,Ashley.Webothwanteachother,andit’sgoingtohappen.”
Ilookedup,tryingtoshakehimoff.Hetightenedhisgriponmyarm.IopenedmymouthtowarnhimIwasgoingtoscream,whenoutofnowhere,ChriswasjerkedbackwardandpickedupbythecollarofhisGhostbustercostumelikeacub.
Itookastepback,knockingoveranotherpersononthedancefloor,lettingoutasurprisedyelp.
SamBrennan.
TheMonsterhimselfwashere,adarkhorseholdingChrisintheair,withabounceroneithersideofhim.Thecollegeguyflailed,helplesslyclutchingtothecollarofhiscostumetopreventhimselffromchoking.
Heshowedup.
“Getridofhim,butnotbeforebreakingafewbones,”Samordereddryly,dumpingChrisonthefloorinapileoflimbsandmoans,likehewasabagoftrash.
“Oh,man,”Chriswhinedasthetwoburlyguysgrabbedeachofhisarms,yankinghimtowardthestairway.“Sorry.Ididn’tknowshewasaVIP.C’mon,Brennan.Please!”
“Shutup,”Samquipped.
“AmIbannedfromtheclub?”Chriswhined.
Samfrownedathimcoldly.“Bythetimemymenfinishwithyou,you’llbeluckynottopissbloodfortherestofyourlife.Takehimout.”Hepointedatthedoorupthestairs,andthebouncersimmediatelyfollowedhisorder.
Samtookasteptowardme.Itookanotherstepback,mykneesknockingtogetherinamixtureoffearanddesire.
I’dbeencaughtred-handedathisclub,dressedlikealegendaryhookerfromthenineties.Lovely.Hewasdefinitelygoingtobeservingmemyownass.Maybeeventellmybrothersandfatheraboutthis.
Isqueezedmyeyesshut,gettingreadyforaverbalbeating.
“Followme,”heraspedsoftly.
“I’msorry!I…”
Wait,what?
Whywasn’thetossingmeouttothestreetrightalongwithChris?
Ilookedaround,internallycursingBelleforbailingonme.ShewascrazyenoughtogetintoafistfightwithSam.Andsomehowwin.
Sampressedhishandonthesmallofmyback,usheringmetowardthebarthenpasttwobodyguardsblockinganarrow,dimlylithallway.Everycellinmybodyprickledwithalarm.Wepassedbyfourdoors—twooneachsideofthecorridor—allofthemopen.Thecardrooms.UndergroundbettingvenuesSamoperated,masqueradingasBadlandsnightclub.EveryoneknewBadlandswasnotorious,butonlyaselectfewwereprivytothetruereasonitwasfamous.
Apparently,onlytherichestandmostrespectedmeninNewEnglandcouldsecureamembershiptoSam’slittlegentlemanclub—andonlyiftheywerevouchedforbyoneofhisfewtrustedcontacts.
Icaughtaglimpseoftherooms.Brown,oaky,andsmoky,themeninsideclutchedcigarsbetweentheirteeth,drinkingexpensivescotch,laughingandplacingbets.
Silently,wewentupthestairstowardadoorthatobviouslyledtohisoffice.Heopenedtheblackwoodendoorandcloseditbehindus,leaningagainsthisdesk.
Ilookedaround,blinkingawaytheharshnesscomingfromthefluorescentlight,drinkinginmoredetailsabouthislife.Nothingabouttheroomscreamedmoneyorpower.Itlookedlikejustanyotherofficeofanightclubowner.Samwasn’taflashyman.Meaning,helookedthepartwhenitcametobeingrich,buthewasn’tdesperatetoshowoffhiswealth.
Wewerenowtogether—alone—withnoonetostophimwhenhe’dgrindmybodyupandturnmeintomeatballsfordefyinghiswordsandshowinguphere.
MyheartbeatsofastIthoughtIwasgoingtopuke.
“Look,I—”Itriedtoexplainmypresenceattheclub,butheraisedhishandtocutmeoff.
“Whathappenedtoyoutonightisnotarepresentationofmycluborthepeopleinsideit.Iknowthingscangetrowdyinhere,butsexualharassmentiswherewedrawtheline.I’dliketoofferyouahundred-dollarvoucherforyourtroubles,Miss…Roberts.”Hiseyesscannedme,thoughtherewasnodesireorwantinhisexpression.
IbitdownonmyliptopreventmymouthfromgapinginshockwhenIfigureditout.
Samdidn’trecognizeme.
HehadnoideawhoIwas.
Howwouldhe?Withmybleachblondewig,costume,fullfaceofmakeup,andsunglasses.
Myheartlurched,urgingmetotakeadvantageofthesituation.Theopportunitywasoverwhelming.TohaveSamwithoutreallyhavingSam.
IknewBoston’sfavoritemonsterwasnotoriousforsleepingwitheverywillingwoman.Whynotme?
Becauseitisimmoral,corrupt,andunfair,avoiceinsidemechided,inaslightFrenchaccent,heraccent.Nottomention,youdeserveamanwhowouldbegforyou,notviceversa.
Yeah,shestillhauntedme.Adecadeafterherdeath.
ButSamdidn’thaveanymorals.Whynotplaybyhisrules?
“WhosaidIdidn’twanttheattention?”Itiltedmychinup,adoptingasmokier,raspiertonethanmyown.
Samarchedathick,darkeyebrow,lazilyperchedonhisdesk,strongarmsfoldedacrosshismassivechest.
“Yourbodylanguagedid,foronething.Somereadbooks,Ireadpeople.Youtriedtuggingyourarmfree,theinternationalsignalforget-the-fuck-away.Inoticedyouonthemonitor.”Heflickedhischintowardthescreenonhisdesk,inwhichblackandwhitefootageoftheclubfromeveryangledancedacrossmultipleframes.
Iletlooseablood-redsmile.
“You’reright.Hewasn’tmytype.Butthatdoesn’tmeanIdidn’tcomeheretogetsomeaction.”
“Isthatso?”heasked,disinterested.
“Yes.”MyvoicebarelyshookwhenthosewordsIfoundatthecarnivalontherestroomwallcametomind.
Lustlingers,lovestays.
Lustisimpatient,lovewaits.
Lustburns,lovewarms.
Lustdestroys,butlove?Lovekills.
S.A.B.
SamuelAustinBrennan.
WasIanidiottothinkitwashim?Thatthesewordswereonceuponatimedirectedatme?
“Bettergetoutthereandtryyourluck,then.”Hisvoicewaslikeafreezingcoldshowerdousingmyadvances.
“Ormaybewecouldhelpeachother.”Iplayedwithatendrilofbleachedhair,carefulnottotugtoohardonthewigandblowmyowncover.
Sam’ssmilewaswryandskeptic.“WhosaidI’montheprowl?”
“Yourbloodtype.”
“Youknowmybloodtype?”
“Hot-blooded,”Iexplained.
“Hotorcold,youcan’thandleme,sweetheart.”
“Tryme.”
Hisgazeglideddownmybodyslowly,asiftryingtodecideifIwasworthunzippinghispants.Itrembled,awarehecouldfindoutwhoIwasanysecond.
Themorewespoke,themoremyvoicebecameunsteady.Shrill.Aisling-like.Heseemedtobeconsideringthis,strokinghischin.
“Turnaround,”heinstructed.
Idid,painfullyawarehewascheckingoutmyass.Itwasagoodass.FouryogaclassesaweekwithMother,despitemybusyscheduleasafirst-yearresident.Butthatwasthethingwithunrequitedlove:youalwaysdeemedyourselfunworthyofthesubjectofyouradmiration.
“Liftyourskirtforme.”Hissteelvoicecutthroughtheairbehindme.Ididasheasked,eventhoughIknewhewouldfindsomethingunexpected.
Mywhitecottonunderwear,sensibleandasizetoobig.Practicalforawomanwhoworescrubsalldayandcompletelyoutofcharacter.
Iheardhimchuckle.Myheartsank.
“Getoutofhere.”
Ispunmyheadaround,myskirtstillbunchedupmywaist,myassinhisdirection.
“Iknowmenlikeyou,”Ihissedseductively.
“Therearenomenlikeme.”
“Icanmakeitgoodforyou,”Iinsisted.
“Doubtthat.”Hetiltedhisheadsideways,laughingquietly.“Out.”
Brazenly,Ipushedmypantiesaside,toshowhimmostofmybehind,whileplayingwithmyself.Thesoundofmyarousalmeetingmyfingersfilledtheair,makingitknownthatIwasverymuchreadytobetaken.
“Please…”Iletmyheadfallsideways,bitingdownonmylowerlipasIprovidedhimagoodangletowatchmemasturbate.
Hesaidnothing.
Smallmercies.Heisgivingyouanotherchance.Don’tblowit.
Iturnedaroundbeforehechangedhismind,swaggeringtowardhimonmythigh-high,high-heeledleatherboots,knowingitwasnowornever.SamBrennanwouldnevergiveAislingFitzpatrickachance,buttothisstrangerhestillmight.WhenIwascloseenoughtotouchhim,Isankdowntomyknees,lookingupathimthroughmybig,darksunglasses.
“MayI?”Iasked,placingahandoverhisgroin.
Helookeddownatme,histhunderstormeyestwinklingplayfully.
“Makeitfuckinggood,Roberts.Idon’tfuckrookies.”
Iloweredthezipperofhisslacks.Inthedecadesincethecarnival,SamBrennanhadsuccessfullygraduatedfromaguytoaman.He’dditchedtherippeddarkjeansandsoftteesinfavorofArmanislacksandblackdressshirts,andnowsmelledlikethedecillionairesIknewandbrushedshoulderswith,wearingacologneIwasprettysurebothmybrothersfavored,andcostagrandapop.TheonlythingtoremainofhisyoungerselfwastheSt.AnthonycharmengravedwithhisinitialsS.A.B.hangingaroundhisneckandthosetauntingeyesthatcouldlookintopeople’ssouls.
Iloweredhisblackdesignerbriefs,myfingersbrushingthroughthetrimmeddarkhairofhisgroin.Hiscocksprangout.Hardasarock.Thickandlong—frighteninglybig—withapurpleveinrunningalongtheshaft.
Asfarascockswent,itwasbeautiful.MymouthwateredandIlickedmylips.
Insteadofgoingstraighttobusiness,Itiltedmyheadcarefully,keepingmywigintact,andgatheredhisballsintomymouth,suckingonthemgently.
Hehissed,droppinghisheadback,notexpectingthemove.Iranonefingeraroundhisshaft,teasinghimasIpumpedandsuckedonhistesticles,inhalingthemusky,earthyscentofhisprivates.
“Motherfucker,”hegroaned.“That’ssomemove.”
Stiflingasmile,Isucked,teased,andlicked,almostentirelyignoringhiscockthatkeptjerkingandgrowingmoreswollenandbig,demandingmyattention.Afterafewminutes,Samgrabbedthebackofmywig,jerkingmetothemainevent—thestaroftheshow.Igasped,slappinghishandawayimmediatelyinabidtokeepmywigon.
Hefrowneddownatme,momentarilytakenaback.
“Gotanythingagainstdicks?”
“Notatall.”Myvoicewasbreathless,pathetic.“Sorry.It’sjustthatmyhairisamessunderthewig,andIdon’twantyoutoseeit.”
Araven,blue-blackmessyouwillrecognizeimmediately.
“Areyouundertheimpressionwe’reabouttohaveourfuckingweddingphotostaken?”Pleasuretwirledinhisgrey-huedeyes.“Whothefuckcares?”
“No,you’reright,ofcoursenot.”
Sillygirl,Ms.B’ssongtuttedinmyhead.Sosubmissiveandeasy.
“Whilewe’reatit,whydon’tyoutakeoffthesunglasses?”Hecockedaneyebrow.“MakesmefeellikeI’mgettingheadfromStevieWonder.”
Becauseyou’llseemyeyesandrecognizethem,too.
Myeyeswerethekindofblueyoudidn’tseeeveryday.Fathersaidtheywereonlymatchedbytheoceanintheirblueness.
Igrabbedhisshaftanddeep-throatedhim,makinghimnearlyroarwithpleasure.
“Nicediversion,Roberts.Faster.”
Ibeganpumpinginandout,stillamazedthatSamBrennan’scockwasinmymouth.
Myfascination—no,obsession—withhimknewnobounds,somethingevenIcouldn’tdeny.Butitwasharmless,too.Wewerebothsingle,ofage,andconstantlyinthesamevicinity.Hechangedmylifeinwaysandshapeditintosomethingdifferentanddeeper.GivinghimgoodheadwastheleastIcoulddotopayhimbackforputtingmeonthepathIwastoday.
“Allright,let’sseewhatyourcuntorassismadeof.Onyourfeet,PrettyWoman.”
Irosetomyfullheight,euphoriaswirlingthroughmelikeastorm.Hegrabbedthebackofmyheadandkissedme.Alazy,hornykiss.Fulloftongueandteethandintent.Nothinglikethekisswe’dsharedonthathauntedrideallthoseyearsago.Itdidn’tunfoldslowlylikeawell-craftedbook.
Sampulledawayfrommesuddenly,frowningatme.
“What?”Iasked,pantinghard,myunderwearalreadysoaked.Iclutchedthecollarofhisdressshirt,rubbingmycoveredtitsagainsthischestshamelessly,alreadyonthebrinkoforgasm.“What,what?”
“Ginger,”hehissedcoolly.“Andhoney.”
“Ginger?”Iblinkedfranticallybehindmyshades.“Whatdoyoumean?”
“There’sonlyonewomanIknowwhosmellsofgingerandhoney.”
Me.
Itwasme.
MeandmystupidFrench-importedshampooMs.Bgotmeaddictedto.
Withoutwarning,Samtorethesunglassesfrommyface,yankingthewigoffatthesametime.Mylong,tar-blackhairfelldownmyshouldersinthickwaves,allthewaytomybutt.Myblueeyeswidenedathim.
Soscrewed—andnotinthewayIwashopingfor.
Icoughed,probablychokingonadesperateapologythatmybodyrefusedtospitout.Iknewhewasn’tgoingtohurtme—notphysically,anyway—butIhadnodoubthewasgoingtopunishme.
RevengewasSamBrennan’sfavoritelanguage,andhespokeitfluently.
“Fitzpatrick,”hegrowledlikeabeast.
“Sam,I—”Ishookmyhead.Merde!“Please.Justonetime.”
“Sparemethebullshit.I’lldealwithyoulater.First,I’llgiveyouwhatyou’vebeenbeggingforforoveradecadeandremindyouwhyyou…”hebitmyliphard
“…do…”hegrabbedmypantiesthroughmyskirt,tearingtheminonepracticedmovement—Ithoughtitwasimpressive,especiallyastheyweren’texactlysnug“…not…”heshovedtwofingersintomeinonego“…fuck…”hefannedhisfingersopeninsideofme,stretchingmesoIbecameunbearablyfull—Ishudderedviolentlywithneedandpleasure,mykneesweak—Ipushedtowardhim,bucklingmyhips,shamelesslybeggingformore“…withme.”
Hebaredhisteeth,kissingmehardagainashefingeredmemercilessly.Hungrily.Violently.Passionately.Itwasadifferentkiss.Akissofpent-uplust.Thekindthathadbuiltupforyearsfromstolenglancesandalmosts.Ifeltthekissineveryboneinmybody,inthecellsonmyskin.
Ourmouthsmovedtogether,andIpushedmygroinforward,signalinghimtothrustdeeperwithhisfingers,mynailssinkingintohismuscledshouldersthroughhisshirt.
Hewithdrewfrominsidemeandroughlygrabbedmyass,hoistingmylegsoverhiswaist.Hecarriedmetoanearbypooltable,whereheperchedmeontheoakedge,hiserectcockpokingmybelly.Samreachedforhisbackpocket,pullingacondomandrippingthewrapperopenwithhisstraightwhiteteeth.
“Areyouavirgin,Aisling?”heasked,hisindexfingerbrushingmynakedpussynowthatmydestroyedunderwearwerediscardedsomewhereonhisofficefloor.
EventhoughIknewthequestionwasn’tunwarranted—I’dneverdatedanyoneseriously,neverbroughtamanhomefortheholidaysortoofficialdinners,andwastheshyest,nerdiestpersonhewasprobablyacquaintedwith—thequestionleftahot,stingingsensationonmypride.Likehe’dslappedmysoul.
“Woulditmatter?”Isnatchedthecondomfromhim,rollingitoverhiscockwithshakyfingers.IwasgoingtogivethismanthefuckofhislifeifitwasthelastthingIdid.Ruinanyotherpussyforhim.
“Notinthefuckingslightest.”
“ThenIsuggestyoufindoutforyourself.”Myeyesleveledwithhis,andforamoment,hisgraypupilsrenderedmespeechless.
I’dmetmen.Manybeautiful,successful,richmen.Buttheywereallthesame.Theirposture,mildmanners,andsofthandsrobbedthemoftheauthenticmasculinitySamoozedwithouteventrying.
Hewascarnal,raw,anddangerous,andtherewasnooneelselikehim.
Heknewit.Iknewit.
Samsmiledhiscrooked,badguysmile.
“Sofuckingsmug.Ifyouwanttobetaken,you’llbetakentheSamBrennanway.Noregrets.Norepeats.Andnofuckingtellingyourparents,kiddo.”
Withthat,heturnedmearoundsomybackwastohim,dippedhishandbetweenmythighs,andborrowedmywetness,coatingmyrectumwithmyjuices.
Myeyeswidenedwithsurprise.I’dneverhadanalsexbefore.Sampushedafingerintomytightholewhilethrustingintomypussyatthesametime.
Withone,deep,fiercethrust,hewasinsideme.
Ifeltfull,sofullwithSam’sfingerinmyassandhiscockinmypussy.Iletoutamoan.Mypuckerednipplesbecamesosensitive,thefrictionfrommybraalonetippedmeclosetotheedge.Ithrewmyheadbackandgrunted.
Don’tcomeonthefourththrust.Atleasthavethegoodgracetopretendyouarenotputtyinhishands.
“Notavirgin,then.”Hestartedmovinginsideme,holdingmywaistinplacewithonehand,playingwithmyrectumwiththeother.Thefrictionbetweenmeandthepooltablehescrewedmeagainstcausedmyclittotingle.Isqueezedaroundhimeachthrust,anglingmybodyjustrightfordeeperpenetration,whileIsneakedmyhandbetweenus,kneadinghisballs.
I’donlybeenwithtwomenbeforeSam—bothofthemI’dmetatuniversity—andbothwereacalculatedwarm-upinmyquesttogetreadyforthegrandevent,AKASam.Evenmysexlifewasdesignedandplannedtomakehimmine.
I’ddatedthetwoHarvardprodigiesIknewwereexpertsinthesexfieldandcoaxedthemintoteachingmealltheirdirtytricks.Itooknotes,morphingfromashy,fumblingnewbietoanymphinbed.
I’dbitandlickedandteasedandtickledwherenecessary.
Suckedandpushedandsqueezed.
Notforthem—forhim
ButIhadn’tanticipatedhimmakingmefeelthisgood.Itwasatotalmind-fuck.
WhenSamslidanotherfingerintomysnughole,Ibeganmoaningmoreloudly,clutchingthepooltabledesperately,losingcontrolofmylegs,almostcavingintothepleasure.Herodemehard,andwhenIfeltthefirstspasmofanorgasmtinglingfrominsideme,hepulledout,takinghiscockinhishandfrombehindmeandplacingitbetweenmyasscheeks,myanuscoatedwithmyjuices.
“Well,well,littleAislingFitzpatrickisallgrownup,andsheknowshowtofucklikeapornstar.”Samlaughedcallously,tryingtominimizethismoment,todismisswhatwashappeninghere.
Him.
Me.
Forbiddenandwrongandstill,againstallodds,happening.
Heeasedintomeslowly,mindfully,andeventhoughithurtmorethanIwaswillingtoadmit,Isoldieredthroughthepain,slidingtherestofhimintomebypushingmybutttowardhim,untilhefilledmetothebrim.
Therewasintensesilence,whichIusedtofamiliarizemyselfwiththefeelingofbeingfullofhimfrombehind.Ifelthimshudderingagainstmybackwithpleasure.
“Yourpussymightbeused,butthisassholehasneverbeenfucked.Icantell.”
Ididn’tsayanythingbecauseitwastrue,andthetruthhurtmorethanhiminsideofmebecauseitwasapainfulreminderofhowpatheticallyinloveIwaswithhim.Heleanedforward,stillinsideme,andbrushedmyhairawayfrommyshoulder,hislipsfindingmyear.
“Youhadtoleavemeafirsttotake,didn’tyou,AislingFitzpatrick?Youpoor,romanticsoul.”
Withthat,hepulledoutthenthrustintomeagaininonego.Icriedinpain,holdingthepooltabletighter,butafterthefirstfewrollsofhiships,thepainmorphedintopleasure.Especiallywhenherepositionedmeslightlyhigheronthetablesomyclitwasagainteasedbythefuzzypooltable.Myfingerswerestillplayingwithhim,rubbingagainstthesensitivespotbetweenhisballsandasscheeks.
Mywholebodywasonfire,andIclenchedmyasscheeks,allmymusclesquiveringasmyreleasebegantowashovermeagaininforcefulwaves.
“I’mcoming,”Icriedout.
Samgroaned,givingafewjerkythrusts.Wecametogether.
Myvisionwasspotty,andeverythingshiftedoutoffocus.Icouldfeelmyselfmilkingtheorgasmoutofhim,howhardhewasinsideme.
Iletmyupperbodygolimpagainstthepooltable,closingmyeyes,awarethatmyskirtwasstillpusheduparoundmywaistashecarefullyslidoutofmefrombehind.Everyinchofhimcomingoutwasexcruciating,andIsuspectedtherewerealotofinchesofhim.
Withmycheekstillplasteredtothegreenfurofthepooltable,IheardSamshiftingaroundtheroom,movingaround.Slowly,Ishimmiedmyskirtdownmythighssothatatleastmybare,bruisedbuttwasn’tonfulldisplay.
“Getthefuckup,iceprincess.Mygrandvintagebilliardtableisnotmeantforsleep.”
Iturnedaround,deliberatelyclimbingonthetableandloungingthere,myforearmsdiggingtoitssurface,makingmyselfcomfortable.IfIwasgoodenoughtobescrewedagainstsaidbilliardtable,Iwasalsogoodenoughtositonit.
“Asknicely,”Isaid,inmycold,upper-crusttone—theoneIknewhehatedsomuch.“AndImight.”
“Ineverdoanythingnicely.Youshouldknowbynow.Where’dyoulearnallyourlittlebedtricks?”Samsatbehindhisdesk,bucklinghisbelt,hisreptilianairconcealinganysignwe’djustscrewedeachother’sbrainsout.
Helitacigarette,puffingaswirlofsmokeinmydirection.
“Youmean,fuck?”Ihoppedoffthepooltable,smilingasIpickedupmywigandsunglasses.“Don’tforgetIspentsevenyearsamongpeoplewhosesolepurposeinlifewasstudyingthehumanbody.Ihadsomeprettygoodtimeexploringallthewaystomakeapersonscreaminpleasure…andpain.Youhaven’tseenthehalfofit.”Irearrangedmyskirtandwig,forcingmyselftoheadtothedoor.NotbecauseIwantedtobutbecauseIhadtopretendIatleasthadashredofdignitystillleftinsideme.
Itwasawell-knownfactthatAislingFitzpatrickhadbeenheadoverheelsinlovewithSamuelBrennansincethedaywe’dmet.TherewasnoneedtoshowerSamwithundividedattentionanddesperatelovedeclarations.Wehadagreathookup.Nowtheballwasinhiscourt.
Iwantedanythinghewaswillingtogiveme.
Afling,arelationship,andeverythinginbetween,justaslongashe’dhaveme.
Pathetic?Maybe.ButIwasn’thurtinganyone.Noonebutmyself.
AndSam?Asscaryashewas,IknewhewouldneverlayahandonmeinwaysIdidn’twanthimto.Hewasdangerous,yes,butnottomylife.Onlymysanity.
“That’smorethanIwantedtoknowaboutyou,kid,”Samsaidaroundhislitcigarette,frowningatthemonitoronhisdeskashewatchedwhatwasgoingonattheclub.
“Whatareyoudoingthesedays,anyway?Pediatrician,right?”Hehuffed.
“OB-GYN.BrighamandWomen’sHospital,”Ianswered,smoothingmyskirtovermythighs,takinganothersteptowardthedoor.
Stopme.Tellmetostay.Askformynumber.
“Youreallythoughtyoucouldseducemebydressingup?”heaskedoutofnowhere.
“Idid,didn’tI?”Isaidhaughtilythenrolledmyeyes.“Honestly?Idressedlikethistogetin,nottoseduceyou.”
“Whydidyouwanttogetin?”Hiseyeswerestillonthescreen.
“BecauseBadlandsisthehottestplaceinBoston.”
“Youdon’tcareaboutthehottestplacesinBoston,”hepointedout.
“OfcourseIdo,”Isaidstonily,internallywonderingifhe’dconsideredme,mylikesanddislikes.“Sometimesevengoodgirlswanttobebad.”
“Whichiswhyyouwerebannedfromthisestablishmentinthefirstplace,”hedeadpanned.
“That’sunfair.”
“FairandIdon’tevensharethesamefuckingplanet.WhichpartofmycharactermadeyouthinkIcareaboutbeingfair?”
Betweenextortion,murder,andmoneylaundering,Samdidn’texactlyhaveanysparetimetojointheLeagueofJusticeasCaptainNiceGuy.Still,callinghimunfairseemed…well,unfair.Hedidthrowoutaguywhohadassaultedme,afterall.
“I’mbannedfromyourestablishmentbecauseyouknowifIgettooclose,you’dactuallyhavetopayattentiontome,andeverytimewe’retogether,magichappens,”Icountered,challenginghim.
Leave,moncheri.Youarenotdoingyourselfanyfavors,Ms.B’svoiceurgedinmyhead.
Samsatback,finallyrippinghisgazefromthescreentolookatme.
“TheonlymagicwesharedtodaywasthatImadeyourassholeaboutaninchwiderforlife.Regardlessofthat,youpulledadirtymove,MissFitzpatrick.”
“Wemonstersdowhatwehavetodo.YouknowthatbetterthanIdo.”Ishrugged.
“You’renomonster,”hehissed.
“YouhavenoideawhoorwhatIam.”
“Whatwasyourobjective?Onefuck?”heseethed.
“One?No.Afew?Sure,dependingonyourattitude,”Irepliednoncommittedly,startingforthedoor.
Hecoulddenymeallhewanted,butwhenwewereonthatpooltable,he’dlookedatmelikehedidatthecarnival.Withahungerthattoldmehewasgoingtodevourmeandleavenothingforthemanwhocameafterhim.
“Aisling,”hebarkedwhenmyhandfoundthedoorhandle,abouttopushitopenandleave.
Istoppedbutdidn’tturnaround,myheartriotinginmychest.
“Ifwefuck—andthat’sanif,notawhen—that’sallwe’llbedoing.Everysinglethingyouwerebornandbredtoachieve—arespectablehusband,children,afamily,aLabradortocompleteyourChristmasphoto—Irejectedbeforeyouwereevenborn.Itwillbejustthat.Fucking.Andnoonecouldeverknowaboutourarrangement,forobviousreasons.”
Webothknewwhattheobviousreasonswere,andneitherofusdaredtoutterthemaloud.
Hewasofferingmesomething.Astart.Iknewtherestwouldbehard-earned.SamBrennanwasabrokenman,butnotbeyondrepair.IbelievedthatwithmyentireheartevenandmaybebecauseofthethingsI’dwitnessedhimdoovertheyears
Hehadgottenmyfamilyoutoftroublecountlesstimes,savedmyolderbrotherfromlosingthefamilycompany,anddotedonmefromafar.
Hemaynothaveknownitabouthimself,buthedidhaveamoralcode,andrules,andhardlimits.
IwasgoingtomakehimseehimselfthewayIsawhim.Thenmaybe,justmaybe,hecouldseemeforwhoIwas.Awomanworthyofhisattention.
Fornow,Iwaswillingtotakewhathewaswillingtooffer,evenifitwasjustcarnal,angrysex.
Oui.Youofficiallylostyourmind,moncheri.
“Whatdoyouhaveinmind?”Iproppedashoulderonhisdoorframe,exhibitingthenonchalanceofagedgoatcheese.
Samrubbedathisjaw,thoroughlyannoyedwiththeentiresituation.
“Well,wecan’tfuckaroundinyourplacesinceyoustilllivewithyourparents—whatthehellisthatallabout,anyway?—andIneverletanyoneintomyapartment,soIguessyoucanmeetmeheretomorrow.Sametime.”
“Whynotthere?”Ishotout.
“Huh?”Helookedupfromhisscreen,alreadydonewiththeconversation.
“Whydon’tyouletanyoneintoyourapartment?”
“BecauseIhateeveryone,”hesaidinhumanlyslowly,lookingatmeliketheanswerwascrystalclearandIwasaperfectidiot.“Whythefuckelse?”
“Sonoone’severbeeninyourapartment?”
“Myparentsvisitedonceortwice.Sailorknowstheaddressbutisnotallowedtocomethere.Whydoyoustilllivewithyourparents?”Hethrewtheexplosivequestionatmyfeet.Ihitchedoneshoulderup,feigningcalmness.
“Idon’tseethepointofpayingforaplacewhenIbasicallyliveatthehospital.”
“Don’tactlikelivinginyourownapartmentwouldrequireyoutowashamug.You’retoorichtodoshityourself,andyouandIbothknowthat.WhyareyoustillhidingbehindMommyandDaddy?”herepeatedsternly.
Thetruthwascomplex,surprising,andworstofall…unbelievable.Hewouldneverbuyit.EvenifItoldhim.WhichIdidnotconsiderdoingsincethetruthwasembarrassing.Iwasapuppet.Apawninmyparents’game.Nothingtobeproudof.
Ishookmyhead.
“DoesthatmeanI’mnolongerbannedfromBadlands?”Iasked.
“Oh,you’restillbanned,missy.Idon’twanttoseeyoupartyingwiththeselosers.Oneofthebouncerswillshowyouthroughthebackdoorwhenyougetheretomorrow,butyou’renotallowedatthebaroranyofthecardrooms.”
“Seeyoutomorrow,Monster.”
“Nix,”henoddedhisgoodbye.
IallbutmadeitbackhomeinatornadoandGoogledhisnicknameforme,elatedandterrifiedandpleasedandjoyous.
Nix:Awaterbeing,half-human,half-fish,thatlivesinagorgeousunderwaterpalaceandmingleswithhumansbyassumingavarietyofattractivephysicalforms(usuallyasafairmaiden).
Nixwasafemalemonster.
Samstillthoughtofusasthesame.
Dark,unpredictablecreatures,lurkinginplainsight.
Nowthatheletmein,Iwasgoingtodestroyeverysingleoneofhiswallsandfinallymakehimmine.
TenhoursafterbeingballsdeepinsideAislingFitzpatrick,IgotacallthatCatalinaGreystone,AKAMotherDearest,hadfinally(anduneventfully)kickedthebucket.
“Justthoughty’allshouldknow.Whatwiththefactthatthey’regonnaknockthewholethangdownnextweek.Notthattheproperty’sworthadime,mindyou.ButIthought,whynotlethersonknow?”Cat’sneighbor,Mrs.Masterson,munchedonsomethingcrunchyinmyearviaaparticularlyannoyingphonecall.
BecauseIdon’tcare,Iwastemptedtoreply.
Catalina’sdeathwasnewtomebutnotsomethingIwasinterestedinfindingoutmoreabout.
Shecaughtmeatmypersonaltrainer’s,flippingatrucktirethatweighedalmostasmuchasIdid.Iputheronspeaker,tossingthephoneonthefoamfloorasIcontinuedflipping.
“How’dyougetmynumber?”Igrumbled,notmentioningthespecialcodeitrequiredtogetthroughtomyline.
“Yourdaddygaveittome.Troysomethin’.”
SoTroyknewshewasdead,too.Iwassurprisedhedidn’tshowupatmydoorthismorningwithabottleofchampagne.
“Well,Iappreciatetheheads-up,butIcan’timaginethere’sanythinginthishouseofvaluetome.”
Otherthanmyfuckinglong-lostchildhoodandmemoriesofdrugandalcoholabuse
CathadtriedreconnectingwithmeovertheyearssincedroppingmeoffattheBrennans’withnothingbutaduffelbagandbadmemories,butthetruthofthematterwas,I’drathergetfuckedbyacactus—raw—thanexchangeawordwithher.
Hell,I’dmarrythegoddamncactusifitmeantneverseeingherwretchedface.
Fortunately,beingthegarbagehumanthatshewas,Cathadn’tgonethroughextremelengthstotrytoreachout.Shesentmelettersperiodicallyandtriedtocalleverynowandagain,especiallywhenshehadmoneytroubles,which—cuethesurpriseact—wasfuckingalways.
Asifgivingafuckwasonthemenuforme.Bytheaddressontheletters(thatwentstraightintothetrash—unlessitwaswintertime,inwhichcasestraightintothefireplace),IfiguredshespentthelasthalfdecadeontheoutskirtsofAtlanta,suckingsoggycocktofundherdruganddesignerbagproblems.
OneespeciallyslownightatBadlandsIevenGoogle-mappedheraddressandwasn’tsurprisedtoseeshelivedinaplaceIwouldn’tevenstoremyshoes.Aricketywoodenthinganywolfcouldblowoverandknockdown.
IfIcaredenoughforrevenge,I’dhavegonetheretodoexactlythat.Madeherhomeless.Asithappened,notenoughtimehadpassedformetothinkofherasanafterthought,letaloneanenemy.
“Aren’tyougonnaaskhowshepassedaway?”Thewomanontheotherlinecontinuednagging.Mytrainer,Mitchell,amanwholookedlikearock(nottobeconfusedwithTheRock),handedmeafreshtowel,offeringmeawhat-the-helllook.
Hewasn’tusedtomegivingstrangersthetimeofday.
“Airbikeandropesnext.You’vegotsixtysecondstorecover,Monster,”hemouthed,offeringmeafistpumpIrefusedtoreciprocateonthegroundsIwasn’tfuckingfive,beforescurryingbehindablackcurtaintoallowmesomeprivacy
“Hello?Youstillthere?”theSouthernwomanontheotherlinedemanded,hernasalvoicegrating.
Ipickedupthephonefromthefloor.
“Listen,Mrs.Masterson,Iappreciateyourmotherlyconcern,buttosayCatandIweren’tclosewouldbetheunderstatementofthefuckingcentury.There’snothingIneedfromherplace.I’mabusyman.Idon’thavetimetogodowntoGeorgia.”
ButIhadeveryfuckingintentionofgoingdownonAislingtonight,andthatwasaproblem.Apleasantshiverprickledmyskin.WhowouldhavethoughtlittleNixhaditinher?Tocon,deceive,andweaselherwayintomyclub—intomypants—andgivemethefuckofalifetime?
Notme,thatwasforsure,butIwashappytogiveherareplayandfinallygetheroutofmysystem.Seeallthetricksshepickedupinmedschoolandmarthatpale,milkyskinofherswithmynailsandteeth.Shewasswan-like.Elegantandaristocratic.Anditmadefuckinghersomuchmorepleasingthanmyusualflavorofpointylongnails,botoxedlips,andassimplants.
Therewassomethingsimplynotasexcitingaboutbeingburiedinawomanthathadalreadyseenmoredicksthanaurologist.Experiencedornot,Icouldtellbytheiceprincess’touchshedidn’tgiveitoutsoeasily.
Shecouldn’thave.
Shewashopelesslyfuckingobsessedwithme.
Andfuck,forthefirsttimeinadecade,thatlittlefactmademeproudratherthanannoyed.
“Drugs.Shehadanoverdose.That’showshepassedaway,”Mrs.Mastersoncontinued,unconcernedwithmylackofinterestintheconversation.“Poorthang.GirlScoutsfoundher.Cametotrytosellhersomecookies.Wouldyoubelieve?Theylookedthroughthewindow.Sawherlyingonthefloorandcalled9-1-1.Poorchildren.Nooneoughttoseesomethin’likethat,letalonekiddies.Theysayshe’dbeenlikethatfordays.Maybeaweek.Noonecametocheckonher.Herphonelogsaidnooneevencalled.Shewasalonelywoman,yourmother.”
Iwashardlysurprised.CatwasaboutaslovableasanSSsoldierandjustaboutasendearing.Whenshewasyounger,shehadherlookstosaveher.Onceherbeautyhadfaded,shebecamejustanotherhaggardjunkie,andlifetendedtobeharderonthosepeople.
“Look,Iknowyoutwoweren’texactlythickasthieves…”theoldwomanontheotherlinesighed“…still,son,youshouldbehere.”
“I’mnot—”
“Boy,Idon’tknowhowtobeclearerthanIam.There’ssomethingofhersyoushouldsee,”shecutmeoffbriskly.“Let’sleaveitatthat,shallwe?Shetoldmeyouwerearichman.Thatmeansyoucanaffordtotakethetimeoffworkandgetyourassdownhere,mister.IknowI’mold,butIain’tstupid.Idon’tmeanyoushouldcomeheretopickupsomeWalmartchinaorfamilyalbums.Therearesomethingsyouneedtosee.”
Istartedtohateherlessdespitemyself.“Likewhat?”
“Iain’ttellin’.”
“You’reaninfuriatingwoman,Mrs.Masterson.Hasanyoneevertoldyouthat?”
“Allthedamntime.”Shecackled,andIcouldtellbyhercoughshewasaheavysmokerlikeme.“So,isthatayes,littleGreystone?”
“Brennan,”Icorrected,clenchingmyjaw,staringataninvisiblespotonthewall.ThesamewallIlookedatdayinanddayoutwhenIdidmyhundredchin-upsfivetimesaweek.
ShouldIorshouldn’tIentertainmyfucked-up,morbidcuriosityaboutCat’slifeorwhateverwasleftofit?
Theanswerwassimple.No.Shewasacompletestrangeratthispoint.Twenty-sixyearshadpassedsinceI’dlastseenher.Andstill,likeaflytoapileofshit,somethingcompelledmetogetacloserlookatthemessshe’dcreatedforherself.That,pairedwiththeideaofrelishingCat’sfailureatthemostbasichumanthing—survival—wassomethingIwantedafront-rowseatto.
“I’llbetherebytomorrowmorning.”
“Smartmove,boy.”
Ihungupandcalledmytravelagent,givinghimthedetails.Iheardhimtypingawayonhiskeyboard.
“There’sactuallyaflightgoingoutofBostonLoganAirportinafewhours.Bettercatchthatone,’causethere’sthunderstormsrollingintomorrowandtherecouldbedelays.”
“Bookit,”Iordered.
IwasgoingtostandAislingFitzpatrickup,butthatwasn’taproblem.IftherewasonethingIknewforcertain,itwasthatNix—littlemonster—wouldneverturnmedown.
Shewouldbetherenextweek.Andtheweekafterthat.
Tobeused,abused,anddevoured.
She’dalwaysbeenmine.
ThatwaswhatmadehersodangerousandwhyIstayedthefuckawayalltheseyears.Thefactthatshewasatmydisposal.Justonehornymistakeawayfromcalamity.Anunconditionalwomanwasnothingforeigntome,buttheyusuallywantedsomething.Mymoney,mypower,theglowofbeingunderthedarkwingsofBoston’sundergroundking.
Aisling,however,Icouldn’tfigureout.Shehadmoremoneythansheknewhowtocount.Shewasmoreofthereformingtypethanthewomenwhowantedthebadboy,andhermotivesalwaysseemeddisturbinglygenuine.
Ididn’tknowwhatheranglewas,anditdidn’tmatter.
Herfamilywasmybiggestclient,andIwasn’tgoingtofuckupmyjobforanywoman,notevenoneassweetasher.
Mitchellsaunteredbackin.Hisbeefybodyinthatsmallgymtopgavetheappearanceoftryingtostuffmyfatcockintoanormal-sizedcondom.
“Ready?”Heraisedhisfistforanotherpump.
Iignoredit,onceagain,saunteringtowardtheropes.
“Always.”
Hourslater,IwasstandinginCat’slivingroomorwhateverthefuckyouwantedtocallthesmall,dingyratholesheusedtooccupy.
Mrs.Mastersongavemethekey,butnotbeforefeedingmeaquestionableapplepieandsweetenedicedteathattastedsuspiciouslylikethestore-boughtCostcobrand.
Cat’shousewasaboutthesizeofmyspareroombackinBoston.Mostofherfurniturewashand-me-downsandcrapyou’ddragfromastreetcorner’scurb.Herbathroomcabinethadenoughprescriptiondrugstorestockafuckingpharmacy.Thehouseexhibitedalltheusualsignsofashittylife:plasticbagsfullofuselessthingsstrewneverywhere,outstandingbillspinnedtoaboard,half-fullbeercansscatteredabout,andabunchofusedcondomsinherbedroom’strashcan
Shediedahooker.Itprobablyshouldhavesaddenedme,butitdidn’t.ShelostallpityprivilegeswhenshemademeanalcoholicandcocaineuserbeforeIknewhowtowipemyownassproperly.
Irolledupmysleevesandgottoworkimmediately,peelingwallpapertoseeiftherewassomethinginterestinghidingbehindit,siftingthroughthehoarder-typegarbage,andopeningeverycabinetanddrawerinthedamnplace.Iflippedthehouseupsidedown,evenyankedouttheleakingfaucetfromitsplace,butforthelifeofmeIcouldn’tfindthatthingMrs.Mastersonwastalkingaboutthatwouldmakeitworthmywhiletovisit.
Iknewaskingtheoldhagwaspointless.She’djustshovemorehalf-frozenapplepiedownmythroatandtellmeCatwantedmetofinditformyself.
YoucouldalwayscountonCattomakethingsharderforme,evenfromthefuckinggrave.
Usually,Iwasgoodatextractinginformationinnot-so-niceways,butevenIhadmylimits,andIdrewthematphysicallyattackingeighty-five-year-oldwomenwhowerehalfdeafandpossiblyfullyblind.
IdecidedtocallSparrow,whomIconsideredmydefactomother.True,shehadn’tpushedmeoutofhervagina,butshesureasshitwastheretogetmeoutoftroublewhileIwasatschool.Shefedme,foughtmybattles,andcelebratedmywins.
Shelovedmemorefiercelythananymotherwouldherchild,butthedamagehadbeendone.Mysoulwasbroken,myeyeswereopen,andmyheartwasfrozen.
“What’sup,Sam?”Sparrowaskedontheotherline.Icouldpracticallyimagineherrollingdoughinthekitchen,redhairsnakingeverywherelikemedusa,anapronwithawittyphrasewrappedaroundherwaist—whichwasstillboyishandslender.
“Sparrow.I’matCat’splaceinGeorgia.Shediedofanoverdose.”
“Troysaid,”sheansweredquietly,andIcouldsenseshewasabouttolaunchintohercondolences,soItalkedfast.
“Ithinkthere’ssomethinghereIshouldsee,butI’mnotsurewheretofindit.”
Iwasgoodatraidingplaces,butIusuallyfoundweaponsunderthemattressesandbetweencracks.Cat’ssecrets,wherevertheywere,weren’tanywhereobvious
ThegoodthingaboutSparrowwasthatshethoughtlikeacriminal.Maybebecauseshemarriedone.Soinsteadofaskingnaggingquestions,shesaid,“Checkthenightstanddrawersorthelittlenooksinhercloset.That’swherewomenusuallystashtheirsecrets.”
“Done,andalsodulynoted.Nothing.”
“Rippedthecarpetsandfloorup?”
“Everyinchofthem,”Ianswered,flickingbooksofftheshelfbyherbedroomwindow.Allfourofthem.“Anyotherideas?”
“Arethereanypictureshangingthere?”
Ilookedaround,abouttosayno,whenIfoundone.
Catalwayshadonepicturehangingupeverywhereshelived.
Itwasinthebathroom,ofallplaces.AlonesolepictureofTroyBrennan,myadoptivefatherandCat’sex.CatalinaGreystonehadnevergottenoverTroyBrennan,andIcouldn’tblameher.NooneelsecouldmeasureuptothemansofearedandlovedhisnamewaswhisperedonthestreetsofBoston.
“One,”Isaiddistractedly,refrainingfromaddingwhowasinthepicture.
“Ripit.It’llbebehindit,”Sparrowsaidwithconviction.
“ThisiswhyIdon’ttrustwomen.”
“That’sokay.Wedon’ttrustmenrightback.Ohand,Sam?”sheaskedbeforeIhungup.
Herewego.
“Mmm?”Icasuallyflickedthepicturetothefloor.Sureenough,therewasasquare-shapedholeinthewallbehindit.Justbigenoughformetoshovemyhandinto.
“I’msorryforyourloss.AndIknowyoudon’tseeitasaloss,Ido,butIcannotfindjoyinknowingthewomanwhocreatedyouhaspassedaway.Becauseattheendoftheday—shegavemeyou.AndIloveyousoverymuch,son.”
Anunpleasantshudderranthroughme.Sparrowwasn’ttheemotionaltype,butshesureasshithadherbiannuallittlespeechesthatmademewanttovomit.
IhungupandpulledtheshoeboxCathadstashedinsidethathole,rippingitopen.
Theicearoundmyfrozenheartcracked,justaninch.
Letters.
Twohoursafterfindingtheletters,Iwasstillsittingonthefloor,lookinglikeGulliverinaBarbiehouse—thejunkie,whoreedition—readingthroughthemagainandagainanda-motherfucking-gain,digestingwhatI’djustlearned.
Apparently,CatalinamadeMrs.Mastersonpromiseshe’dmakesureI’dfindtheseletters,andshehadadamngoodreasonforit.
Myestrangedmotherwantedmetoknowherlifestory.Atleastapartofit.Questionwas—why?
EvenasIreadthelettersforthehundredthtime,Istillcouldn’tfigureoutifshewantedsympathy,revenge,ortogiveanexplanationforherbehavior.
Alltwenty-threeletterswereaddressedtoGeraldFitzpatrick,thenCEOoftheoilcompanyRoyalPipelinesandthemanIcurrentlyworkedforonretainerasafixer.
Coincidentally,hewasalsothefatherofHunterFitzpatrick,mysisterSailor’shusband,andAislingFitzpatrick,thewomanIhadfuckedhoursago.IcouldstillfeelhersweetwarmthwrappedaroundmycockwheneverIthoughtaboutit.Ipushedthememoryawaybitterly.
WhatI’dreadinthoseletterschangedtheentirecourseofmylife.

MydearestGerald,
Thankyouforbringingnewhopeintomylife.FormakingmeseethatthereismorethanwhatIwasleftwithafterBrockpassedaway.
Theword‘mistress’ringslicentiousandcheap,doesn’tit?Itdoesn’tdojusticetowhatIamtoyou,mydear.TohowIfeelaboutyou.
Iknowyou’llneverleaveJaneforme.I’mnotstupid.I’velearnedtolivewiththeburdenofbeingtheotherwoman.AllIaskisforapartofyourheart.Itcouldbesmall.Afractionofwhatyougavetoher.
Couldyouoffermeachunkofthatorganthatbeatsinsideyourchest?
Thankyouforinspiringmetobecomeabetterperson,abettermother,abetterlover.
Yoursforever,
—Cat.

MydearestGerald,
Wearehavingababy!Canyoubelieveit?Isurecan’t.
I’msoexcited.Iknowitwasn’tinyourplan.TrustmewhenIsayitwasn’tinmine,either.NotwhenSamispracticallyalittleboy.Apre-teen.Look,Gerald,IknowyouandIhaven’tbeentogetherforverylong,andhereIthoughtthediaper-changingdayswerebehindme,butIreallythinkit’sasign.Iguesslifehasitswayofshowingusourpaths.
Iincludedourpregnancytest.WouldyouliketocomewithmetomyfirstOB-GYNappointment?Nopressure,butIwouldlovethat.
Oh,andbytheway,Iwouldabsolutelyadoreitifyoucouldbringmesomeprenatalvitaminsfromthestorenexttimeweseeeachother.Gottakeepthelittleonehealthyandstrong!
Yoursforever,
—Cat.

DearGerald,
IdidnotappreciateittodaywhenyoubreezedpastmewhenIcametoseeyouatyouroffice.Youmaybedonewithme,thatmuchyouhavemadeabundantlyclear,butyouaredefinitelyNOTdonewiththebabygrowinginsideofme.Iamnotgettingridofhim(YES,HIM)foranypriceintheworld,muchlesstheamountyouhaveofferedmetohaveanabortion.
Youcanignoremeallyouwant.Forweeks,formonths,foreternity.Attheendoftheday,thisbabyiscomingoutofme,anditisyours.Youaregoingtohavetofacethisreality,onedayortheother.
Callmeback.Youknowmynumber.
Yourssometimes,
—Cat.

Gerald,
IwantyoutoknowIwillneverforgiveyouforwhatyoudidtome.Tous.
Youareakiller.Amurderer.Ihadason.Jacob.Hewasinsideme.Iwaspregnant.Hekickedandrolledandalwaysmovedinpleasurewheneverhelistenedtohisbigbother’svoice.
Hewasyourchild.
Iunderstandthatthisposedacomplicationtoyourperfectlife.ButitwasstilltheonethingIlookedforwardtoandmademepushthroughmybleaklife.
Ialsounderstandyouownanoilcompany,thatyoualreadyhaveheirs,thatthebattleoveryourwill,whenyoudie,isgoingtobeaviciousone.
BUTHEWASYOURSON.
Hewasyoursonandyouyankedhimoutofmybodycruelly.Youhitme.Youthrewmearound.Youpriedhimoutofme.Youbeatmesobadly,youleftnoroomfordoubtwhatwasgoingtohappennext.
Ihadamiscarriageafterwhatwentdownbetweenusyesterday.Thatwasyourplan,wasn’tit?Tobeathimoutofme?Well,itworked.
IbledandbledandbleduntilIhadtoruntothehospital,wheretheytoldmeIlosthim.
Iwasfivemonthspregnant,Gerald.WhichmeantIhadtogothroughastillbirth.DidyouknowIwasthreemonthssober?HadbeensinceIfoundoutwewerepregnant.
Iwantedtogivethisbabyanew,freshstart.ToraiseJacobandSamueltogether,andgivethemtheopportunitytofulfilltheirpotential.Toturnoveranewleaf.
Toatoneforallmysins.
Nowallofthatisgone.Iambacktosquareone,confusedandlostasever.
Andyou,ofcourse,arestillnotanswering.Yougotwhatyouwanted.MycompletedestructionsoIwon’tbeathreattoyouanymore.
AsI’mwritingthistoyou,I’vefoundthebagofcrackyouleftatmydoorstep.Iknowitwasyouwhoaskedthedrugstobedelivered.YoualwayslovedmemorewhenIwashigh,evenifitmeantIwasn’tthereforSam.
FuckSam,right?Ifpushcomestoshove,wecanalwaysgivehimalittlesomethingtosubduehim,too.Thatwasyouridea.Todrughimsohewouldbequiet.Sowecouldtalkonthephone.Well,itstoppedworkingoncehewasoldenoughtofightback,andweallknowhowthatturnedout.He’dalmostbitmyskinoffthelasttimeItriedtodrughim.
Don’tworry,Gerald,I’lltakethedrugs.I’llfalldowntherabbithole.I’llbecomeauselessbody,anemptycontainerthat’sonlygoodforonething—givingyoupleasure.
Andagain,thecyclegoes.
Drugs.Alcohol.Rehab.Rockbottom.Repeat.
Thisisallyourfault,andiftheyevertakeSamawayfromme,Ihopeyouknowit’llbeonyourconscience.
Forevernotyours,
—Cat.

Gerald,
AsIsaidonourphonecallyesterday,Iamnotgoingtoleaveyoualoneuntilyoupaymeformysilence.
Youmadememiscarryourunbornson.Themediaisgoingtoknowwhoyoureallyareandwhatyou’recapableofunlessyoupayup.
Andno,Iamdefinitelynotgoingtotakeyourmeasly50kandmoveaway,especiallyasyouandIbothknowthat’llmeanhavingtoleaveSambehind.NowayamIgoingtobeabletoraisehimonmyown,andit’snotlikeTroyandSparrowaregoingtoletmetakehimawayanyway.
300kwillallowusafreshstart.Agoodrehabcenter.Anapartmentinadecentschooldistrict.Dotherightthing,Gerald.IhavepeopleIknowinCaliforniawhocouldhelpme.Payupandmakethisnightmaredisappear.
Withhate,
—Cat.

Gerald,
Fine.150kitis.
WhenIpointedout300kwouldmeanIcouldtakeSamwithme,youlaughedinmyfaceandsaidtheboywasn’tyourproblem.It’sonyouthatIleftmysonbehind,notme.
Youhaveplansforhim,don’tyou?Yousaidsoyourself.Broken,impressionablemenfromthewrongsideofthetracksmakegoodsoldiers.Therichthriveonthepoor.Well,thinkagain,becauseTroyBrennantookhimunderhiswing,andifthereisonepersoninBostonwhoisstrongerthanyou,it’sTroy.ItrusthewouldprotectSamfromyou,althoughIdon’tentirelytrustyounottogetyourclawsonSamanyway.Usehimanddrainhimofanythinggoodandworthyhepossesses,likeyoudidtome.
Idon’tknowhowfar150kisgoingtogetme,butIknowit’snotgoingtobefarenoughawayfromyou.
Iwillneverforgiveyou.
Forthrowingmebackintothearmsofdrugs.
FormakingmemiscarryJacob.
FormakingmeleaveSam.
Youareamonster,Gerald.Andmonstersareborntobeslayed.
Youtoremyfamilyapart,andoneday,thesamewillbedonetoyou.
SamuelhasTroynow,andTroyistheonemanyoucannotpusharound.
Forthelasttime,
—Cat.

Idroppedthelastofthelettersonthefloor,rakingmyfingersthroughmyhair.
Apparently,CatandGeraldhadhadanaffair.Notonlythat,butthataffairhadresultedinachild.AnunbornsonnamedJacob.GeraldobjectedtoJacob’sbirthsobadlythatwhenherealizedCatwaskeepinghim,he’ddecidedtobeathimoutofher.
Hegotherhookedbackondrugsthenpaidherofftomoveawayandleavemebehind.
TherewereholesthesizeofthefuckingWhiteHouseinthisstory.
Foronething,thewomanintheletterssoundednothinglikeCat.Catalinawascynical,ill-tempered,andaboutasmotherlyasastuddeddildo.EithersheputononehellofanOscar-worthyactforGerryFitzpatrickorshereallyhadbeenonthebrinkofchanging.Mybetwasontheformer.
Idoubtedhewastheonewhohadtoldhertodrugme.Thetimelinedidn’taddup.Therewasnowaythey’dbeenloversforthatlong.
Otherthanthat,itseemedlegit.Thedetailslinedup.
Catdidhaveaspellofsobrietyafewmonthspriortoskippingtown,followedbyafew,erraticweeksofbingingondrugsandspiralingdownhill.
IalsohadthemisfortuneofknowingGeraldpersonally,soIhappenedtobeprivytothefacthewasanotoriousadultererwho’dyettofindonepussyhedidn’twanttostickhiscockin.
Ididn’tknowhimtobeviolent,butIdidn’tknowhimtobenonviolenteither.Thecircumstantialevidenceagainsthimwassubstantial,andIdidn’tputitpasthimtocommitacrimeofpassionifheneededtosavehisownskin.
HeandJaneFitzpatrickwereamatchmadeinupperclasshell.Theybothcamefromrichfamilies,wereofthesameculturalbackground,andhadalottogainbymarryingoneanother.Theyalsohadanotherthingincommon:theywerebothintolerable—tothepointofnotbeingabletostandeachother.
Overtheyears,theoldmanhadcheatedonhiswifemoredaysthanIcouldcount.Itwasn’tfarfetchedtobelievethatCat,whosefavoriteflavorofdickwasmarried,hadmanagedtolandherselfafatwalletforaloverinGeraldFitzpatrick.
TheletterswerealladdressedtoGerald’sthenbachelorpad,anothertelltalesignthattheyweregenuine.IknewalloftheFitzpatricks’propertieslikethepalmofmyhand,andtheaddressCatalinahadsenttheletterstobeforetheybouncedbackwasthesameaddressGeraldhadusedtomeethismistresses,beforegiftingthepropertytoSailorandHunterasaweddinggift.
Therewerealsopicturesattachedtotheletters.
PolaroidsofCatperchedinGerald’slap,kissinghischeek.Picturesoftheminexoticlocations.Onvacations.Birthdays.Andapregnancytestsooldthetwopinklineswerefaintandweak.
Notonlydidallthefactslineupimmaculately,butIremembered
Rememberedherbriefperiodofsoberness.
RememberedthedayCatcamehomelookinglikeatrainwreck,bleedingandbruised.
Herbrokenness,sopathetic,sowhole,evenIcouldn’thateherinthatmoment.
Howshecrawledinsideherbed,ballingupandcryinguncontrollably,shakinglikealeaf,andIfoundmyselfhelpless,tornbetweenhelpingherandhatingherforyetagainfailingtofeedme.
Howinthemiddleofthenightshehadskulkedtomygrandmother’sbedside—GrandmaMariaandIhadsharedaroomthesizeofacloset—andcroaked,“Callanambulance.Ihavetogettothehospital.Now.”
Thebetrayalwasoverwhelming.
GeraldknewIwasCatalina’sbiologicalsonallalong,andhestillusedmyservices.
Accordingtoher,he’dbeendistantlygroomingmeforthejobIwasdoingtoday
Hehaddrivenmymothertodrugsandalcohol.
Impregnatedherthenbeathertoapointofmiscarriage.
Thenmadeherleaveme.
Icould’vehadadifferentlife.
Abetterlife.
Hedeprivedmeofafair,secondchanceandwasn’tevenmanenoughtocomecleanaboutitwhenourpathscrossedagain.
GeraldFitzpatrickrobbedmeoutofafuture,myfamily,myunbornbrother.
Forthat,hewasgoingtopay.
Withhisblood.
Withhistears.
Withhisgoddamnmiserablefuckinglife.
I’dbeenBoston’sfixermyentireadultlife.SinceTroyhaddecidedtoretirefromthegigwhenIturnedtwenty-twoandturnedtomorelucrativeandlegalbusinesses.I’dalwaysvieweditashisbirthdaygifttome.Itookoverthefamilybusiness,tacklingeachproblemtherichandinfluentialpeopleofBostoncametomewith,nomatterhowwildlyunorthodoxitwas.
Bytwenty-two,I’dbrokenenoughbonesandcrushedenoughskullstobefearedandrespectedeverywhereIwent,bothbythecriminalsandthelaw.
TroywasplayinghousewithSparrow,runningtheirrestaurantsandstayingawayfromtheheatbythetimemynamehittheFBI’smostwantedlist.HeknewIwasdifferent—afewshadesdarkerwithanappetiteforblood—andhadlonggivenupontamingme.
Mywholelife,I’dfixedthingsforotherpeople.
Itwastimetoallowmyselftheluxuryofone,uncalculateddestruction.
KilleverythingGeraldFitzpatricklovedandcherished,justashedidtome.
Karmaneverlostanaddress.
AndIwasgoingtomakesurehiswouldarriveinatimelyfuckingmanner.
CatalinaGreystone’stombstonewasblack.
Ironywasabitch,butitsurehadadecentsenseofhumor.
Ididn’tknowhoworwhyCathadbeenburiedinacemeteryinAtlantabuthadaninklingmyadoptivemotherhadeverythingtodowithit.
Sparrowwasapracticalyetinconvenientlysentimentalperson.Eventhoughshewasn’treligious,theveinofCatholicvirtueranthickandfullinherbody.
Shecouldn’tbearknowingCatalinawouldgetcrematedthenthrownintoatrashcanwhennooneclaimedherashes.Sparrowcouldn’tchancetheslightunlikelyscenarioinwhichI’deverwanttogovisithergrave.
IspentthenextcoupledaysinmyhotelroominAtlanta,ignoringphonecalls,takingdiscreetmeetingswithlocalgangleadersanddruglords,andplottingmyrevengeonGerald.Ondaythree,IcheckedoutandwenttoCatalina’stombstone.Mrs.MastersoncalledtoletmeknowtheyalreadyputthestoneupandaskedifIwantedtogoseeitwithher.Ideclinedpolitely—therewasonlysomuchshittyapplepieandidleconversationamancouldtolerate—butIstilldecidedtomakeapitstopatthecemeterybeforeheadingtotheairportandbacktoBoston,mostlytoensurethebitchwassixfeetunderandverymuchdead.
ThemossyearthsankbeneathmyloafersasIburiedmyfistsinsidethepocketsofmyblackpeacoat,strollingtowardthetombstone—smooth,fresh,andshiny,amemorialtomybrokenchildhood.
IstoppedwhenIreachedit,smirkinggrimlywhenInoticedSparrowhadomittedtheword‘mother’fromCat’sshortlistoftitles.Guessitwaspettyo’clockwhensheplacedtheorderforit.
Theairwasbitinglycold,unusuallysoforGeorgia,thewindlashingagainstmyface.Ilitacigarettebetweennumbfingers,smirkingarounditasIusedthetipofmyloafertosmearasmudgeofmudovertheglossystone,dirtyingitupalittle.
“Goodriddance,sweetheart.”
Icroucheddown,touchingthegravestonewiththehandthatheldmycigarette,marvelingathowbriefhumanlifewas.Onecenturyatbestwashardlyenoughtimetoenjoywhatthisplanethadtooffer.
“Youknow,Cat,Ithoughtaboutkillingyouoftenenough.Everyothermonth,maybe.Thereissomethingpoeticintakingalifefromthepersonwhogaveyouone,”Itsked,surprisedtodiscoverIwasn’tashappyasIthoughtI’dbeaboutherfinallybeinggone.“Butthenitallboileddowntothesamething:killingapersonistakingarisk.Youwereneverworththerisk.That’syourlifestoryinanutshell,isn’tit,Catalina?Nevermorethananafterthought.Somanylovers,andfakefriends,andfiancés,andevenahusband,yetnoonehasevervisitedyourgrave.Onlyaneighty-five-year-oldneighborwhowouldfindStalinlovable.Iguessit’sgoodbye.”Istoodup,takingonelastdragfrommycigarette,flickingitoverthetombstonethenspittingonthelitembertosnuffitout.
Iturnedaroundwithoutlookingback.
Anotheronebitesthedust.
“Donotletthisspinoutofcontrol,”TroywarnedthefollowingdaywhileweweresittinginmyofficeinBadlands,enjoyingahottoddy—heavyonthewhiskey—andtheblissfulsoundofmyworkersrunningaroundinthehallway,fulfillingmyorders.
HerifledthroughthestackofcalllogsbetweenCatalinaandGeraldfromdecadesagothatIhandedhimafewminutesbefore.Hisfingerswerestilltintedbluefromtheoutdoorcold,hispalefacetingedpinkbyBoston’swinter’sbite.
“Howdidyouevenfindthisprehistoricpieceofevidence?”
“I’maveryresourcefulman,”Idrawled.
“Noshit.”
ThefirstthingIdidwhenIgottoBostonwasdigdeeperintotheCat/Geraldaffairandfindoutmoreabouttheirrelationship.Fromthecallsthey’dmadetoeachother,thetwohadbegunbumpinguglieswhenIwasfouryearsoldandendedonthecuspofherleavingwhenIwasnine.
ItwasunbelievableandyetcompletelylogicalthatthefirstandonlytimeCatalinahadsaidthetruthwasalsothetimesheconfessedtosomethingasappallingasanaffairwiththemanwhopaidmethirtymilliondollarsannuallytomakehisproblemsgoaway—andtonevertouchhisdaughter.
Catalinawasafuckingheadache,evenafterherdeath,butGeraldwastherealvillainofthestorybecausehisdrugwasn’tcrackcocaine.Itwaspussy,andheshouldhaveknownbetter.
“RememberyoursisterismarriedtoGerald’sson.We’refamily.”Troysmoothedahandoverhisblazer,hisexpressionloadedwithhostility.Everythingabouthimwascockedandreadytodetonatelikealoadedpistol.
Wesatacrossfromeachother,meandmyadoptivefather,lookinglikeamirrorimageofoneanother.SameblackArmanislacks,tailor-madeforourgiganticsize.SameSicilianhandmadeloafers.Sameblackdressshirt—ornavyblue,ordarkgray,butneverwhite;palecolorswerehighlyimpracticalwhenpartofyourjobdescriptionwasdrawingbloodbythegallons.
Evenourmannerismwascomparable.Hehadanoralfixationhesoothedwithatoothpickthathestucktothesideofhismouth,andIusedcigarettes.
Butwhatitboileddowntowasthis:TroyandIweren’tblood-related.
Hehadfrosty,alabasterblueeyes.Mineweregray,likeBrockGreystone’s.
Hishairwasjet-black,pepperedwithgrayatthetemplesandhiswidow’speak.Minewastoffee-brown.
Hewaspale.Iwastan.
Hewasbuiltlikearugbyplayer.Iwasbuiltlikearugbyfield
Andhewasbornintomoney,whileI’dhadtoadapttoit.
Thephrase‘eattherich’alwaysamusedme.I’dlearnedfromayoungagethatitistherichwhoeatyou.Thatwaswhypeoplehatedthemsomuch.
Ifyoucan’tbeatthem,jointhem.
Iwasnevergoingtobepooragain,whichwaswhytouchingAislingFitzpatrickwasunwise.TheFitzpatricksmademericher.AwholefuckinglotricherthanIwaswhenIstartedoutwiththisgig,breakinglegsforcongressmenandstashingmistressesonexoticislands.
“ThisisnotgoingtotouchSailor,Hunter,Rooney,orXander,”Iassuredhim,referringtomysister,herhusband,andherchildren.IflippedmyZippobackandforthbetweenmyfingers,losinginterestintheconversation.
“Hunter’sgonnablowagasket,”Troynoted.
“Hunter’stoobusycreatinghisownfamilytogiveafuckabouttheonewhoturnedtheirbackonhimwhenhewasinboardingschool,”Isnapped,baringmyteeth.
Itwasn’tliketheFitzpatrickswerewinninganyBradyBunchawardsanytimesoon.Ifanything,theygavetheLannistersarunfortheirmoney.
“I’mnotgoingtosparethefeelingsofeverymotherfuckerI’veeverhadabeerwith.Hunter’llsurvive.Geraldhasearnedmywrath.”
“AsfarasI’mconcerned,Geraldcangetyourwrath,too.Ihavenodoginthisfight,Sam.”Troy’snostrilsflared,andIcouldtellhewasmeasuringhiswordscarefully.He’doftentimestriedtodiffusesituationsI’dstormedinto,mainlybecauseheknewthepotentialofmyexplodingwashightoalmostfuckingcertain.Ilikedbreakingthingsandwatchingthemshatter.Callmenostalgic,butchaosremindedmeofmychildhood.AndIwasalwaysreadyforabloodbath.
“Ijustwanttomakesureyoudon’tdoanythingtooimpulsive.Iknowyou,son.You’vealwaysbeentrigger-happy.”
“NotashappyasI’dliketobe.”IdroppedtheZippo,fingeringmySt.Anthonycharmtiedtomyneckbyaleatherstring.“Whichbringsustothenexttopic.IcaughttheRussianssmugglingahundredandthirtypoundsofhashishintooneoftheirdelis.WhateverVasilyMikhailovsold—anditwasnotfuckingpastrami—hedidn’thandoveracutfromtheearnings.”
SoIcuthisface.Aneyeforaneyeandallthat.
PerhapscuttingtheBratvaboss’facewasn’tthemostcalculatedthingI’deverdone,butitsurebroughtmepleasuretoseehimscreaminginpainashewrithedbeneathme.
Troysnarled.“Don’tgetmestartedabouttheRussians.Youhadnobusinesstakingovertheirterritoryinthefirstplace.BacktoGeraldFitzpatrick.”Hespunhisindexfingerintheair,rewindingthetopic.“Iwantyoutositonthisinformationuntilweconfirmit.Iknowitlooksbad—”
“It’sairtight,”Ilashedout.“Ihaveproof.Hardfacts.”Islappedthepapersbetweenus.
NoteverythingCathadsaidwastrue,butmostofitwas.EnoughtowarrantmyneedtowringGeralddry.Theguymurderedmybabybrother.Myonlybiologicalfamilyinthisworld.Brockwasgone.Catwasgone.Icouldhavehadsomething.Icouldhavehadapersontotakecareof.
“Andstill…”heslammedhisfistoverthedeskbetweenus“…youknowsomethinghethinksyoudon’tknow.Youhavetheupperhandnow.Operatewithinthescopeofyourrole,butdon’tturnthisintotheRedfuckingWedding.Iknowyou,Sam.Youenjoydeliveringslowdeathsmuchmorethanfastkillings.Torturehim,butdon’tfinishhimcompletely.”
Hehadapoint.WhygotoGeraldwiththisinformationandgivehimtheopportunitytodefendhimselfwhenIcouldmilkitoutofhimthegoodold-fashionedway,bymakinghislifealivinghell?
Ifrevengeandpunishmentwereformsofart,myworkwouldbeallovertheLouvre.IcouldpluckGerald’ssouloutwithafuckingspoonandfeastonit,allwithoutupsettingmysisterandhergigolo-lookinghusband.
“Fine,”Idrawled,lounginglazilyonmyleatherchair.“IsupposeIcouldtorturehimalittle.ButIwillgoforthethroateventually.”
“Eventuallyisstillatleastafewmonthsaway,andIhopeIcanstumbleacrosssomeinformationthatwillmakeyouchangeyourmindbetweennowandthen.”Troystoodup,buttoninghisblazer,hisgazecoldandyetsomehowapproving.
Morethanhehatedthathe’dcreatedamonster,heloathedthathelovedit.
Myruthlessness,roughedges,andappetiteforbloodcamefromhim.
Isurpassedhiminalloftheabove.
Troywasanhonorablemafiabossinhisownbackwardway.Hewaswell-versedindestructionbutonlyinflicteditonthosewhohadcrossedhim.
Me,Iwascorrupttothebone.Nothingwasbeneathme.Well,otherthanrape,pedophilia,beatingwomenandchildren…youknow,theusualsubhumancrap.
Anyadultmanwasfairgame,andiftheywrongedmetheyweredone.
Itgavemeacertainadvantage.
“Yougood?”Hestoppedbythedoor,frowningatme.
Ilitacigarette.“Whythefuckwouldn’tIbe?”
“Cat—”
“Was,likehernamesake,justanotherpussy.Idon’tconsiderherdeathaneventworthmentioning.TheawfulapplepieIhadtoendurefromhernaggingneighbornextdoorcausedmemorediscomfortthanknowingshehadbeenlefttorotinherapartmentforaweekbeforepeoplefoundout.”
“Arright…”Hiseyesflickedtomine,stillsearchingforaflashofemotion.“Don’tgettoowildwithyourrevengeplotagainstGerald,ah?Remember,thematterisstillunderinvestigation.”
NopointinmentioningI’dalreadydugagravewithhisnameonitintheforestwhereTroykilledBrock.
Icould’vehadabrother.
Icould’vehadanunconditionalsomeone.
“Sure.”Ismiled.
Sure.

Flippingthroughamedicalchart,Ismiledtightlyasmyphonedancedinsidethefrontpocketofmyscrubs.Iignoredthevibrationagainstmythigh.
“Thetestscameback,Mrs.Martinez,andIthoughtwecouldgothroughthemtogetherandtalkaboutwhattheymeanforyouandwhatIrecommendyoudonext.”Iregardedthewomansittinginfrontofmeinmyoffice.
Sheblinkedsteadily,backstraight,fingerslacedtogetheronmydesk,bracingherselfformore.Outside,snowcamedowninsidewayssheets.Youcouldbarelymakeitoutthroughthenarrow,thick-glassedwindowsliningthewalls.
Ifelltotheseatinfrontofher.Myphonebuzzedagain.
“Well.Okay.Let’ssee,shallwe?”Istartedflippingthroughhercharts,myeyesburningwithemotionasItookinherbloodtests.“Whatdowehavehere?Itsaysherethat…oh,excuseme.Justonemoment.”Iliftedmyforefinger,pluckingmyphoneoutofmyscrubs’pocket,internallygroaning.Someonebetterhaddied.MyfamilyknewnottointerruptmewhileIwasatwork.
IhadthreemissedcallsfromHunter.
OnefromMother.
Worstofall,atextmessagefromHunter.
Yearsago,whenwewereallstillyoungsters,thrownintodifferentacademicestablishmentsandinternshipsaroundtheworld,mytwosiblingsandImadeapact.Sincewehadbeenraisedtobelieveourphonesmightbetrackedbecauseofwhowewere,wecouldn’tsimplywritesomethingasstraightforwardas“Quick,therewasanexplosioninoneofourrefineries,Da’sfault.”Sowedecidedthatifsomethingwastrulyurgent,we’dtexteachotherasecretcode:Clover
AnironictakeontheIrishbeliefthatafour-leafcloverbroughtgoodluck.Hunter’stextwasinallcapitals.
Hunter:CLOVERCLOVERMOTHERFUCKINGCLOVERRRRRR.
“Ihavetotakethis.I’msorry.”Ishotupfrommyseat,hurryingoutoftheoffice,hustlingontothemainclinic’sfloor,myphonegluedtomyear.Hunteransweredbeforethedialtonestarted.
“Ash.Youhavetocomehome.It’sDa.”
“Isheokay?Ishehurt?”Isuckedinabreath,realizingIwasalreadyclutchingthekeytomysensiblePriusinmyhand,leavingMrs.MartinezandmyresponsibilitiesbehindasIdartedoutthedoor.
“Physically?Heisfine.Fornow,anyway.There’snowayofknowingwhatMomisgonnadotohisassinthenextfewhours.Listen,Ash,there’sascandal.SomeoneleakedsomephotosandtextmessagesofDawith…uh…”Hestopped,andIcouldtellhewastryingtofindtherightwordsthatwouldinflictaslittlepainonmeaspossible.
ThatwasHunter.Brutallybeautifulandheart-shatteringlysoft.
“Justspititout,Hunt.IknowMomandDadaren’tgivingRomeoandJulietarunfortheirmoney.I’velivedundertheirroofmywholelife,forgoodness’sake.”Islippedintomycar,flooringitonmywaytoAveburyCourtManor.“What’dhedo?”
“It’sasexscandal,”heblurtedout.“Notshocking,Iknow,butthistimetherearesomeprettygraphicpicturesontheinternet.Dacalledmeassoonastheysurfaced.Devonisworkingtotakethemdownaswespeak.”
DevonWhitehallwasthefamilylawyerandoneofmyfather’sclosestallies.ABritisharistocratwithamysteriouspast.Hunter,thenatural-borncharmeramongusthree,wasinchargeofeverythingPRandmediarelatedatRoyalPipelines,myfamily’soilcompany.ItmadesensehewasthefirstphonecallDamade.
“Wow.”Itriedtodisguisethehurtinmyvoice,mainlybecauseIknewIwasn’ttheonewhoshouldbehurt.Motherwasthewrongedone.Myeyesburnedwithunshedtears.
Merde,Motherisgoingtohaveaheartattack.
“That’s…ironic,”Imanagedtocoughout.
“Yathink?”Hunterdeadpanned,snorting.
Onceuponaverylongtime,DaorAthair(meaningfatherinGaelic),aswechildrenreferredtohim,haddraggedHunterfromhisschoolinCaliforniaallthewaybacktoBostonbecauseasextapeofHunterhadhittheinternet.Itmadetheroundsandprovidedsomeveryunfavorableheadlinesforthefamily.AthairwenttoextremelengthstopunishHunterforthenationalembarrassmenthe’dcausedtheFitzpatrickclan.Sothiswasdefinitelyironyatitsbest…andworst
Notthatwedidn’tknowmyfathercheatedonmymother,buthealwayskeptitunderwrapsandnever,everletitleak.Hehadthereputationofaflawlessfamilyman,andwhoevermanagedtobringhimdownmustbegloatingrightnow.
“Whereareyou?HowisMother?”ItooksharpturnsandstoleyellowlightswheneverIcould,ignoringthepersistentsnowflakesfallingdownfromtheskyasIzippedmywaythroughtheBackBay.
“I’mjustgettingintoAveburyCourtrightnow.Sailandthekidsarewithme.Cillian,Persy,andSamarealreadythere.Momis…”Hunterpaused,drawingabreath.“Idon’tknowhowsheis,Ash.Shehasn’tpickedupthephone.Hurry.You’retheonlyonewhocouldevergetthroughtoher.”
I’mtheonlywhomakestheeffort,Ithoughtbitterly.
“Allright,loveyou.”
“Loveyou,too,sis.”
Withthat,hehungup.
Mykneebouncedagainstthesteeringwheeltheentiredrivehome.
Mother.Fragile,vulnerableJaneFitzpatrick.
Whodrownedhersorrowinshoppingsprees,criedeverytimeIoptedtogooutwithfriendsandnotstaywithher,andalwayshadaready-maderequestonthetipofherlipstomakemeserveherinsomeway.
Growingup,I’dthoughtIwasjustlikeher.
Meek,shy,andelegant.I’dtriedsohardtobecomewhatpeopleexpectedmetobe.ThefragilenessofJaneFitzpatrick,fromherbonystructuretoherdaintybeauty,drewalotofadmirersandtheenvyandireofwomenovertheyears.Butastimepassed,IrealizedIwasstrongerthanmymother,muchstronger,andmoreindependent,too.
WhichimpliedIlookedlikemymombuthadthesamecharacteristicsasmydad.
ThatwassomethingIwastoogrossedouttoexplorerightthismoment.
JaneFitzpatrickslippedinandoutofdepressionlikeitwasherfavoritegown,andmyfather,althoughhewasnowretiredanddabbledwiththefamilybusinessonlyacouplehoursaday,didverylittletotrytohelpher.
WhichwaswhyI’ddecidedtostayathomeaslongasIcouldbeforeI’deventuallygetmarriedandstartmyownfamily.
Peoplealwayssilentlyjudgedmeformydecisiontoremainhome.
TheyalwaysassumedIstayedbecauseIwantedtobecoddled.
NoonehadsuspectedIstayedbecauseIwastheonedoingthecoddling.
ButIdidjustthat,flippingthetablesandbecomingherparent.HerfirstrealdepressionhappenedwhenIwaseighteen;Ihadn’tslept,spendingallmytimefillingherbaths,brushingherhair,givingherdailypeptalks,andtakinghertodoctors.
Sincethen,I’dhelpednurseherthroughherupsanddownsthreemoretimes.Sohavingmyfathersocarelesslyruinallmyworkfeltlikeastabintheback.
Iparkedinfrontofthehousewithascreechthenthrewthedoubledoorstoourmansionopen,ignoringthepitter-patterofmyheartatthesightofSam’sPorsche,whichwasparkednexttoCillian’sAstonMartinandHunter’sG-ClassMercedes.
Findingeveryonewashardlyatask.Ifollowedtheshrieksandhystericalcriesofmymother,allthewayfromthefoyertotheseconddiningroom.Herwailsbouncedacrossthehighceilings,ricochetingagainstmarblestatuesandfamilypaintings.
IcametoahaltwhenIreachedthediningarea.MotherandAthairwerestandingatthecenter,thegardensandheavyburgundydrapestheirbackdropastheyengagedinascreamingmatchfromHell.
MotherwassoredIthoughtshewasgoingtoexplode.Datriedtheinconsistentmethodofapologizingprofuselyonemomentandheatedlydefendinghimselfthenext.Behindthem,IspottedCilliansneeringdownatthemdistastefully,oneofhisarmsdrapedtenderlyoverhisfair-hairedwife,Persephone,whoheldtheirson,Astor,closetoherchest.
Hunter,Sailor,andtheirchildrenwerethere,too.StandingatasafedistanceincaseMotherstartedthrowingsharpobjects,whichwasn’tunlikely.
Cilliansnappedhisfingersonce,andtwomaidsrushedinside,wordlesslyscoopingupthetoddlers,whohadnobusinessseeingtheirgrandparentslikethis.
Devon,ourfamilylawyer,wasnotintheroom.IcouldseehimbehindtheFrenchdoorsleadingtothegardens,talkingheatedlyonthephone,tryingtodefusethesituationwiththemedia,nodoubt.Hisfootstepsdentedtheotherwisepristine,untouchedsnow.
ThentherewasSam.Heloungedagainstthewallinthecorneroftheroom,hisfistsshovedintothepocketsofhisslacks,aslight,cunningsmirkonhislips,alldevastatingbeautyandcasualdestruction.
Isquaredmyshoulders,feelingmynostrilsflarewithfreshhotanger.
IthadbeenaweeksinceI’dseenSam.Sincewesharedaromp.SinceIconvincedmyselfIcouldwormmywayintohisheart.
Thenextday,I’dcometohisclub,justlikewe’darranged,onlytofindouthewasoutofthestate.
“Sorry,love,butBossisonmoreimportantbusinessthanacasualfuck.GuessyourtwominutesofbeingBrennan’smistressareup,”oneofhissoldiershadsaidashelaughedinmyfacewhenIdemandedtogoinside.
MyearspinkedinshamewhenIthoughtaboutthatnight.Samhadn’tevenbotheredtopickupthephoneandmakeacall.Textme.Anythingtoletmeknowthatourplanshadchanged.
TimehadgrownthickandstickysinceI’dlastseenhim,eachminutelastingforever,likeithadmovedagainstacurrent.Nowthathewasinfrontofme,andIcouldn’tevengivehimthescoldinghedeservedbecausewewereinmyfamily’scompany.
MyeyesshiftedfromSambacktomyparents.
“Nooneaskedyoutobefaithful,Gerald!”Motherflungherarmsintheair,exclaimingloudly.“Thatwouldbetoomuchforyou,wouldn’tit,dear?Butwhycouldn’tyoubediscreetaboutit?HowmuchdoyouthinkIcantolerate?Iamawalking,talkingjoke!Lookatthesepictures.Justlookatthem!”Mymothertossedanewspaperintheair,slappingitagainstmyfather’smeatychest.
Frommyspotbythedoor,Icouldseeitwasapictureofmyfathertitty-grabbingabustyblondewhowasgigglingatthecamera.Itwasobvioushewasbuttnakedaswasshe.Shewassittinginhislap,anditwasalsoobviousthattheyweredoingit.
“Tomakemattersworse,sheistwenty-five!Youngerthanyourowndaughter.Whatwereyouthinking?Aisling,thereyouare!”Motherturnedtolookatme,momentarilyforgettingshewasinthemiddleofpubliclyhumiliatingmyfather.“Beadarlingandasksomeonetogivememyspecialteawithhoneyandgingerandseetoitthatmyhotbathwillbereadysoon.”
Everyone’seyesturnedinmydirection,surprisedandpuzzledthatI’dbeenaskedtodothetaskofabutler’s.Theyshouldn’tbe.Iftheylookedclosely,they’dseeI’dbeenthehelpinthishouseallalong.
“Ofcourse,Mother.”Ismiledtightly,glidingoutoftheroomwithasmucheleganceandnonchalancethatIcouldmuster,deliveringrequeststothemaidstoensureshewouldbetakencareofwhileIwasgone.IreturnedbacktothedininghalljustintimetoseeMotherthrowingherweddingbandatmyfather.
Decidinghe’dhadhisfairshareofdarkentertainmentforoneevening,Cilliansteppedbetweenthem.
“Enough.Whodoyouthinkcould’veleakedthis?”Cilliandemanded.“It’snotthewomaninthepictures.Sheismarriednow,withachildontheway,andishorrifiedbythiscomingout.Hunterspoketoherearlier.Sheclaimssomeonehackedintoheroldphoneandstoletheimagesillegally.”
“Andbyherhiccupsandhystericalcrying,shesaidthetruth,too,”Hunteraddedfromthecorneroftheroom.
“I’llbet!Ineverwould’vegivenherthetimeofthedayotherwise!I’vebeencareful.Iswear.”Athairshookhisfistintheair,hischinwobblinginunison.“Thisisasetup.YouknowI’dneverdoyouwrong,Janemydear.”
Mymothertookanotherstepbackfrommyfather,staringathimlikehewasacompletestranger.Herstrikingbeautyhighlightedhowtragicallylackinghewasinthelooksdepartment.
GeraldFitzpatrick’sskinwaspasty,splotchy,andmarredpink.Hewasaheavymanwithbeadyblackeyesandthinningwhitehair.
Allofussiblingslookedlikevariationsofourmother,despitehavingdifferentcoloring,withHunterbeingthemostaestheticallypleasingoutofus.
“Shutup,”CillianbarkedatDa,scanningtheroomimpatiently.“Anyideawhocouldhavedonethis?”
“Ifwestartcountingourenemies,wewon’tleavehereuntilnextyear,andwehaveavacationbookedintheMaldivesnextsummer.”HuntercheckedhisRolex,cockingasarcasticbrow.
“I’lltakecareofthis.”Samsteppedforwardtothecenteroftheroom.
Heclappedahandovermyfather’sshoulder.“Comeon,Gerry.Let’sgettothebottomofthismess.Privacy,please.”Hesnappedhisfingersinourgeneraldirection,signalingallofustogoout.“Jane,youtoo.”
Everyonetrickledoutoftheroomslowly.EveryoneotherthanMother.Ihadtotakeherhandandyankheroutwhilesheprotestedwithhuffsandpuffs.
“It’snotfair!Iwanttoknowwhattheyaresaying.”SheclutchedmyarmabittootightlyasIsteeredhertowardthekitchen,wheretheservantscouldwatchher.“Oh,Aisling,beadarlingandgoeavesdroponthem.YouknowI’mnogoodatnotbeingseen.Youcanslipinundetected,Iamsure.”
“Mother,”Igroaned,feelingaloomingheadacheblossomingbehindmyeyes.“Brennanwantedthemtohaveprivacy.”
“Brennanisabruteandabeast.Whocareswhathewants?”
Shehadapoint,andIwasfeelingespeciallyinclinedtoignoreanyinstructionsSamhadgivenmeafterthepastweek.
Itookthebait.
AfterwrappingMother’sbonyfingersaroundasteamingcupofteainthekitchenandaskingoneofthehousekeeperstokeepaneyeonher,IdiscreetlyslippedintotheadjoinedsunroomtoinvestigatewhatSamandDaweretalkingabout.
Thevoicesfromthediningroomcouldcarrytothesunroomeasily;yearsoflisteningtomybrothersandfatherdrinkingportanddiscussingbusinessandwomencrasslyhadtaughtmethat.
Ipressedmyeartothewall,listeningintently.
“Let’stakeitastepback.Tellmeaboutyourformerlovers,anypotentialbastardchildrenwhomightbelurkingaroundlookingforanicecheck.”Sam’svoicewassmoothandhardasmarblebehindtheoakdoors.
“JesusChrist,Brennan,talkaboutaloadedquestion.Well,inthelastdecade,IhadBonnie,Sheila,Christie,Ulrika,Ruthie—”
“Startwiththefirstyearofyourmarriageandmoveyourwayup,”Samcuthimoffbriskly.“Weneedtobethorough.”
“Thatcouldtakedays!”myfatherprotested.
Therewasablackholeinthepitofmystomach,anditwasfullofdarkfeelings.Theextentofthebetrayalrobbedmeoffmybreath.Hewassocareless.Soselfish…
Iheardsomethingsnap,andwhenIlookeddown,IrealizedIdugmyfingernailsodeepintomypalm,itbroke.
Ialwaysknewbothofmyparentsenjoyedtheoddaffair—butthiswastoomuch.IfeltdirtysharingmyDNAwiththeman.
“Days,”Sammumbledimpatiently,justasdisgustedasIwas.Asifhehadaright.Asifhewasn’tknownforhisconquestsbetweenthesheets.“Fuckingcharming.Let’strytonarrowitdown.Thinkofsomeonewiththepotentialtoseekrevenge.Anyoneyouknockedup?Someoneyoumighthavehurtpersonally?Thosewouldbethepeoplemostlikelytodigthroughthedirtandharmyou.Noonewantstocomeoutasthemistress,butpeoplewillhavenoqualmscompromisingsomeoneelsetotakeyoudown.It’spossibleoneofyourothermistresseshackedintoyourlatestone’scloudtoshedlightastowhatsheconsidersfoulplayonyourend.”
“Idon’tdofoulplay,”Daroared,hisfacerattlingtheleavesontheplantsinthesunroom.“Itakecareofmymistressesandprovidethemwithmoneyandjewelryandexpensivecars.”
Ifeltlightheaded.Nowondermymotherwassomessedup.Thismanwasinhumane.Hetreatedwomenlikeprizedhorses.AndgrowinguphewasthepersonIlookedtoforcompassion.
“I’msureyoumakethemfeellikefuckingrockstars,Gerry.Butaccidentshappen,andyou’reavirileman.Anychanceyouhaveanybastardslyingaround?Maybewomenwhohadtogethush-hushabortions?”
SamalwayscalledmydadGerry.Hewastheonlypersontodoso.DespiteandespeciallybecauseitdroveDamad.
“No.Nobastardchildren.AndI’mnotthatvirile.Asyouarewellaware,notallofmychildrenarebiologicallymine.”
Iwinced,knowingexactlywhohewasreferringtoandblockingthispieceofinformationfrommyconsciousness.Tomethatpersonwasstillmybelovedbrother.ButitwasanimportantreminderMother,too,dabbledinromancingpeopleoutsidehermarriage—andwaslessthandiscreetaboutit.
“You’renotreallygivingmemuchtoworkwithhere,”Samgrowled.Somethingaboutthewayhesaidthat,withatangofobviousfrustration,madethefinehairsonthebackofmyneckstandonend.
True,Samwashotheaded,buthewasalsopragmatic.Detachedandcoldwhenitcametobusiness.Hewasonlyexplosiveandunpredictablewhenitcametohispersonallife.LikewhenSparroworSailorwasintroubleorheandTroyhaddisagreements.
“Makemeafuckinglist,Gerry.Ofeverysinglewomanyoustuckyourdickinto.IfIcan’tbethorough,Ican’tbehelpful.Nouseinpayingmeasmallfortuneforsittingaroundandbabysittingyourtwofullygrownsons.”
“I’malsopayingyoutokeepawayfrommydaughter,”myfatherremindedhim.Iwinced,pressingmyearharderagainstthedoor.
“Yeah.”Samchuckled.“Somechallengethatis.Makethelist.”Herappedhisknucklesagainstthediningtable.
Iknewtheconversationwasover,soIscurriedoutofthesunroomasquietlyaspossible,hurryingtowardthekitchentoMothertofillherinontheirconversation.
Icrashedheadfirstintoawall.
No,notawall.Worse.Sam’sgranitechest.
“Ow.”Iscowled,stumblingbackasIrubbedatmyforehead.
TurningaroundtomakeabeelineintheotherdirectionandavoidSam,Igotsnatchedrightbacktohisside.Sam,withhiskillerinstincts,caughtmebythehemofmybluescrubsandpulledmeintoanalcovebetweenthediningroomandthesunroom,hissmoky,mintybreathcollidingwithmyface.Hotandfreshandintoxicatinglysexy.
“Ifitisn’tmyfavoritetighthole.Beeneavesdropping,Nix?”
HiscasualsexismwouldhavefazedmehadInotknownitwasafront.I’dseenSamhandlinghissisterandadoptivemotherandknewthatforallhiscrasswords,hewascapableofadoringwomen.
Therewaslittlepointindenyingtheallegation,especiallysincewegotoutoftheadjoiningroomsatthesametime.Itiltedmynoseupandsqueezedmyshoulderbladestogether,likeshehadtaughtme,herFrenchaccentremindingmeinwardly,Betterdieonyourfeetthanliveonyourknees.Showcourage,moncheri!
“It’smyhouse,Brennan.IcandowhateverIwant,including,butnotlimitedto,spendingtimeinmysunroom.”
“Youaremanythings,Aisling,includingthedaughteroftwoofthemostpatheticcreaturesI’veeverencounteredandachampagnesocialist,butyouarenoidiot.Sodon’tactlikeone.Whatwereyoudoinginthere?”
Ifhewantedmetobringupthefacthestoodmeup,tellhimhowmuchithurtme,hehadanotherthingcoming.
Iwasinlove,notadoormat.Therewasstillaslightdistinctionbetweenthetwo.
“Admiringtheplants.”Ismiledsweetly.
“Bullshit.”
“Proveit.”
Hescowledatme.Webothknewhecouldn’t.
“Well,then.Nicetalk,Brennan.Areyoudonenow?”Ibrushedhistouchoff,sneeringathimlikemymotherwouldatthehelp.
“Notquite,”heanswered,mimickingmyupper-classdrawl,theonemymotherhadtaughtmetousewheneverwewereinwell-bredcompany.“I’mgladIcaughtyouhere.Ihaveanupdateaboutoursituation.”
“Oursituation?”Iarchedaneyebrow.
“Ourfuckingarrangement,”hespatout,exposinghiswhitefangswithanunpleasantchillingsmile.“It’scanceled.I’mnotinterestedanymore.Youwereagreatsport.Fiveoutoffivestars.Wouldhighlyrecommend.Unfortunately,Ihavesomepressingissuesrightnowandnotimeforcomplicatedpussy.”
Thecrassnessofhiswordsalmostrobbedmeofmybreath.Howdarehe?Howdarehetrytohurtandbelittlemeeverystepoftheway,whenIhadn’tdoneanythingremotelyunfairtohimtheentiredecadewe’dknowneachother?
AllIdidwasseekhiscompany,benicetohim,andgivehimmyselfonhisterms.Andeachtime,hefoundnewandcreativewaystoshowmethathewasn’tinterested,andtheonetimethathewasinterested,hedeemeditalapseinjudgment.
Ismiledachilly,unfriendlysmilethatmademybonesgocold.
“Wehadplanstogether?Sorry,Idon’trecall.Eitherway,thanksforgivingmeanupdateaboutadateIhadnoplanattending.Now,don’tyouhavetogodosomeworkformyfather?”Itappedmychin.Behindhishardgaze,Icouldtellhewasmildlyconfusedbythebrand-newbackboneI’ddecidedtoexhibit.
“Chopchopnow!”Iclappedmyhands,mytoneacheerysingsong.“Asyoupointedoutearlier,myfatherpaysyouasmallfortune,andnotforyourintellectualskills—which,bytheway,Ifindlacking.Letusknowwhenyouhavemoreinformationforusabouttheleaker.”Iturnedaroundandwalkedbriskly,leavinghiminthefoyerwithoutasmuchasasecondglance.
Iwenttothekitchen,scoopedmymotheruplikeshewasnomorethanachild,andtookhertoherroom,whereahotbathhadbeenwaitingforher.Iwashedherhair,tellingherallthethingsshewantedtohear.
Thatshewaspretty,andloved,andpowerful.Thatmyfatherwouldcrawlbackwithjewelry,vintagebags,andvacations.Thatifshewantedto,shecouldpushhimaroundwithsomelegalpapersthatwouldscarethebejesusoutofhim.
“Oh,Aisling,Iwon’tbeabletosleepatalltonight.MindstrokingmyhairuntilIdo?”Mothermoaned,whenafterhoursoftendingtoher,I’dsaidIneededtohopintotheshower.
Ismiledtightly,sittingmyselfbackontheedgeofherbed.“Yes.Ofcourse.”
Istrokedherhairforhours.Whenshefinallyfellasleep—bythattime,myfingerswerenumb—Iretiredtomyownroom,tookaquickshower,slippedintomybed,andstartedcrying.
CryingforMom,forallthesufferingshehadtoendureinhermarriage.
CryingforMrs.Martinez,whomI’dleftinthemiddleofanimportantmeetingtotrytoextinguishanotherFitzpatrickfirecreatedbymyselfish,self-centeredparents.
Andcryingformyself,becauseIwasn’tlikemybrothersortheirwives.
Ididn’thavemyhappily-ever-after.Mydestinywastofallinlovewiththemonsterinmystory,thecharactermostlikelytobeslain.
Butmostofall,IcriedbecauseofSam.
Becausehewastheonlymanwhocouldbreakmyheart.
Andbecausehechosetodoit.Often.
ThefirstbulletIshotpiercedstraightthroughtheman’schest.Aclearshotintohisheart.
Thesecondbulletflewtohisfriend’sforehead,makingthemansnapbacklikeabowlingpinandlandontopofhisfellowsoldierwithacry.
TherewereveryfewpeoplewhowereasgoodmarksmenasIwas.
AretiredveteranoncetoldmeI’dhavemadeagreatsniper.Joiningthearmywasneverinmycards.Iwasaselfishmanwholikedtowagehisownwarsanddidn’thavethetimeorpatienceforanyoneelse’s.
Silencehungintheair,theechoesofthegunshotsstillbuzzinginmyears.Thefaintscentofgunpowderandbloodhungheavyinmynostrils.
Ididn’tgetintogangfightsoften,butwhenIdid,Irelishedthehelloutofthem.Violencecalmedme.Mademybloodruncoldratherthanstirhotandrestless.
Calmly,Ituggedacigaretteout,lightingitasIsaunteredtowardtheplacewherethetwomenwerelying.WewereinaBrooklineattic,justabovethedeliwhereamassivedrugdealhadtakenplacejustafewweeksearlier.VasilyMikailov’sterritory,whichI’dconqueredinrecentmonths.
BackwhenTroyBrennanruledthestreetsofBoston,thegangcrimeratewaslowtononexistent.Everyonehadtheirowncorneroftheworldtorule,toreign,andtohold.Troywasafairunderboss.Hedidn’thaveaseverecaseofmegalomania—somethingyoucouldn’tsayabouthispredecessors—andhadnotroublestickingtoSouthie,anareawhichheruledwithanironfist.
I,however,haddifferentrules,differentaspirations,andanentirelydifferentapproachtolife.Youeitherbentorsnappedforme.Therewasnomiddleground,andIwanteditall—everynookandcornerofthecityandeverythinginsideit.
FromthemomentItookover,therehadbeenbloodshed.Ididn’tsettleforafinger.Itookthewholefuckinghandandbuiltanempireontheruinsofbonesandblood.
TheItalianshadbeenthefirsttobowdown.Theydidsoimmediately.ThemajorityofthemrantoNewYorkandChicagoaftermyfirstroundofmassacringtheirtopbosses.TheeventwasmarkedinthelocalnewspapersasNightofTheLongKnives,whereIkillednolessthantenmobstersintheirbeds.
Thelatinxhadfollowedsuit,scurryingtotheedgesofillegalbettinganddrug-dealingafterIstruckthem.
TheRussians,however,putupafight.BrooklinebelongedtotheBratva,andIhadtopryitoutoftheirhands,usingalotofforceandraisingthebodycountonthestreets.Ithadbeenanongoing,uphillbattlewithmanycasualties,manyassassinationattempts—onbothsides—andahellofalotofheadache.
Bendingdownononeknee,Idrewablackplasticglovefrommybackpocket,slappediton,andpriedthefirstbulletfromtheman’schest.Next,Imovedtomyothercasualty.Thankfully,thebulletwasn’tsmearedintoomuchbrainmatter,whichwouldhavebeenabitchtoclean.
Iwipedbothbulletswiththemen’sshirtsandpocketedthem,sighingasIstraightenedbackupandproceededtodealwiththerestofthesituation.
“Howbadisit?”Iclipped,myannoyanceloudandapparent.
“Bad,”Becker,oneofmysoldiers,wheezedbehindmelikeafan,shiftingonthefloorofthedustyattic.“Ithinktheygotmylungs.”
“PrettysureIbrokemyarm,”Angus,besidehim,added.
Bothassholesdidn’tevenhaveahighschooldiplomayetsomehowmanagedtomedicallyassessthemselves.IwalkedovertothetwouselessoxygenwastersI’dhiredtodomydirtywork,surveyingthemcoldly.
Unbelievable.NotonlyhadIendedupdoingthejobmyselfandwipingthefloorwiththetwoBratvaidiotswhostolemoneyfromme—fine,didn’tpaymethecutIdeservedforthedeal—beforeputtingbulletsinthem,butnowIhadtousherthesetwopussiestogetmedicalhelp.
Anddon’tgetmestartedonfallingoffthefuckingrailsandactinglikeajealousgirlfriendinneedofabloodbath,becauseIhadalong-assfuckingmonth.
“Getup.”IrolledBeckeroverwiththetipofmyloafer,takingalongdragfrommycigarette,releasingplumesofsmokethroughmynostrilslikeIwasadragon.“Iain’tcarryingyourasstothecarhoneymoon-style.Youtoo,FuckerJunior,”IspatinAngus’direction.
Theylimpedbehindme,leaningagainsteachotherforsupport,andstuffedthemselvesintothebackofthevanI’ddriventoBrookline.Behindthewheel,ImadeacalltoDr.Holmberg,themanI’dhiredonretainertotendtomysoldiersandmyself.
Forobviousreasons,walkingwilly-nillyintothehospitalwithgunshotwoundswasn’texactlyanoption.
Dr.Holmbergpickeduponthethirdring,theacousticssurroundinghisvoiceimplyinghewastalkingfromdeepinsidesomeone’sasshole.
“’Ello?”Hesoundedgroggy.
“Enjoyinganafternoonnap,fucker?”Iinquiredpolitely,takingaturntowardtheSouthEnd,wherehewaslocated.“Makeyourselfacupofcoffee.Ihaveajobforyou.”
“Sam?”Hesoberedupinstantly,clearinghisthroat.“Oh,Sam,I’msorry.Ithoughtyoursecretaryleftyouthemessage.I’mnothome.I’minGreeceuntilnextweek.”
ThatexplainedwhyhewasasleepwhenIcalledhim.Therewasatimedifference.Italsoexplainedwhythereceptionwassobad.Thefacthismessagehadn’tbeenreceiveddidnotsurpriseme.IwentthroughsecretarieslikeIwentthroughone-nightstands:fastandleavingapileofangry,mistreatedwomeninmywake.Iwascurrentlyinbetweenassistants—andalsoinbetweenfucks,seeingashavingsexwithAislingwasn’tapossibilityanymore.MyshitwiththeFitzpatrickswascomplicatedenough.
“WhatthefuckmakesyouthinkItalktomyassistantsregularly?”Ilashedout.“Nexttime,havethestonestotellmedirectlywhenyoutakeanunauthorizedvacation.Nowgivemeyourcousin’saddress.I’vegottwoinjuredsoldiersIwouldverymuchliketokeepalivebecausetheyowemethreeweeks’payofwork.”
WheneverDr.Holmbergwasn’tavailable,hereferredmetohiscousin,Raul,whowastechnicallyaregisterednursebutwasstilldiscreetandgotthejobdone.Atthispoint,withBeckerandAngus’lacklusterperformancesinthefield,theywereluckyIdidn’tletthelocalmailmantendtotheirwounds.
Anursewasmorethantheydeserved.
“Raul’soutoftown,Sam.Visitinghissonincollege,”Dr.Holmbergmurmuredsheepishly.
“Isanyoneinyourfamilyfamiliarwiththeconceptofwork?”Imuttered.
“Yeah,Iknow,it’sunfortunate.”
“ThestateofyourfaceafterI’mdonewithyouwillbeunfortunate,”Ideadpanned.“Whatthehellwereyouthinking,skippingtownwithouthavingamedicalbackupforme?”
“Itwaspoorplanningonmybehalf.Iagree,”hesaidmildly,doinganythinghecouldtoensureIdidn’tactuallybreakhisnoseuponarrival.“Surelyyouknowsomeonewhoworksinthemedicalfieldwhocanhelpyouout?”Dr.Holmbergsaid,knowingdamnwellusheringthetwofuckersinthebackofthevantoahospitalwasoutofthequestion.Itwasasgoodasadmittingtothecrime.
EventhoughthelocalDAandpolicedepartmentwereinmypocket—Iwenttothesheriff’sson’schristeningandtheDA’sfather’sfuneral,Iwasonsuchgoodtermswiththem—Iwasn’tdumbenoughtorubitintheirfacesandmakethemaskmehardquestions.EveniftheDAandthepolicelikedme,therewasstilltheFBItothinkabout,andtheywerebreathingdownmyneckrecently.
“You’dbesurprised,Holmberg,butIdon’tknowmanydoctors.Orfuckingastronauts,forthatmatter.Mylineofworkiskillingpeople,notnursingthembacktohealth.”
Thatwasn’tentirelytrue,though.
IknewAislingFitzpatrick,andshewasadoctor.
Agoodoneatthat,ifIweretobelievemysister,Sailor,whowasn’tinthehabitofhandingoutunwarrantedcompliments.
Nixalsoknewhowtokeepsecrets.CamewiththeterritoryofbeingaFitzpatrickandbelongingtooneofthemostnotoriouslycorruptfamiliesinNorthAmerica
PerhapsstandingherupwithoutanapologythenthrowingwhatwesharedonHalloweeninherfacethelasttimewemet,proceedingtotakeanice,bigdumponherprideandlightingtheentiresituationonfirewasn’tthebesttactictohandlingthingswithher,seeingasIneededhernow.
Normally,Iwasmorecalculatedthantoneedlesslypokeandhumiliatepeoplewhodidn’tdeserveit.
Normally,Ididn’thandleAislingFitzpatrick.
Shebroughtouttheworstinme.Iwasborderlineallergictoher.Sosweet,soinnocent,soaccommodating.Stilllivingwithherfuckingparents.
Andreally,rejectingherwasdoingherafavor.Iwasgoingtohaveherfather’sheadonaplatterinabouttwoseconds,whenIexposedhimforeverythinghewasandsqueezedthetruthoutofhim.
See?EvenIhadmyfuckinglimits.
Theywerefewandfarbetweenandfaded,buttheywere,apparently,inexistence
Thentherewastheoathpart.EventhoughIwasaworld-classbastard,Iwasn’tadishonorableone.TheFitzpatrickmenpaidmegoodmoneynottotouchAisling,whichmeantIneededtoatleastmakeahalf-assedefforttokeepmyword.
“Perhapsyoucould—”Dr.Holmbergstarted,butI’dalreadyhungupthephoneandwascallingSailortoaskforAisling’snumber.
MysisterandNixweregoodfriends.Thewallflowerandthelady.
“Doesthatmeanyouarefinallygoingtoaskherout?”Sailoraskedontheotherline.Iheardherwashingsomethinginthebackground,probablyXander’sbottles.
Ithrewaglancetothebackofthevan,whereBeckerwasbleedingout—possiblypartsofhislungs—andAnguslookedlikehisarmhadbeenscrewedintotherestofhisbodybyablindtoddler.
“Areyoufuckinghigh?”Iscowledattheroad,talkingtomysister.“She’sachild.”
AchildI’ddonesomeprettygrown-upshitto.
Ididn’tthinkeightyearswereabigdealintermsofanagegap.Isleptwithwomenwhowereintheirmid-twentiessometimes,althoughInaturallygravitatedtowardwomenmyownage.ButAislingwasn’tonlyeightyearsmyjunior.Shealsohadthatpureasthedrivensnowhaloofablue-bloodedangel.
Ablue-bloodedangelwhosuckedyourballslikethefutureofthecountrydependedonitthenproceededtotakeituptheasslikeapro.
“High?Oh,Iwish.Ican’tdoshitwhilebreastfeeding.Notevendrinkaglassofwine.”Sailorsighedwistfully,reminiscingabouttimeswhenshedidn’thaveahusbandtoknockherupassoonasshepushedoutababy.
“Ifyouwantsympathy,Isuggestyoutalktosomeonewithaheart,”Igrumbled
“Oh,really?Sowhat’sthethingbeatinginyourchest?”
“It’snotbeating.It’sticking.Probablyabomb.”
Shelaughedheartily.“Don’tbetooharshwithAsh.Youknowsheisagentleone.Loveyou,asshole.”
“Bye,shitface.”
IhungupandcalledthenumberSailorhadgivenme.Aislingansweredonthefifthring,justasIwasabouttohangupandmakeaU-turn,deliveringtwo,sweaty,injuredbeefcakesstraighttohermanicuredfrontlawn.
“Hello?”Hersweetvoicefilledthevan,floodingthegoddamnplacelikeanoverwhelmingperfume.
“It’sSam,”Ihissedinannoyance.
“Oh,”washerresponse.ItwasaresponseIwasfamiliarwithasshe’doftenuseditwhenpeopletoldherthingsshedidnotlike.Butshe’dneverusedthat‘oh’withmebefore.“HowcanIhelpyou,Mr.Brennan?”
IwasMr.Brennannow?
Beinganassholecertainlyhaditscons.Itrudgedforwardwithmyrequest.
“Ihavetwoinjuredsoldiers.Ican’tdropthematthehospitalforobviousreasons.IfIbringthemovertoBadlands,couldyougetatriagekitandtreatthem?You’llbepaidhandsomely.”
IhatedaskingforfavorsandcouldcountononehandthenumberoftimesIhadtodoso.Usually,Ihadsomekindofleverageoverpeople,somethingtheywantedbackfromme,hencetheluxuryofnotendingademandwithaquestionmark.
“Whataretheirinjuries?”sheasked,coldandquiet.“Givemethephysicaldescription,please,notyourmedicalassessment,unlessofcourseyouwenttomedschoolwithoutmyknowledge.”
Forthefirsttimeinmylife,Igottheiceprincesstreatmenteveryoneelsereceivedandnotherunabashedadoration.
NotthatIcouldblameher,aftershovingherprideintoablenderandsettingitonhighthatnightatBadlands.
“Onehasabrokenarm.Theotherwasshotinthechest.”
“Whereaboutinthechest?”
“Lungs.MeetmeatBadlandsinthirty.”
Shewasgoingtoaskmeifshewasstillbannedfromthenightclub,andIwasnotgoingtolifttheban.Nothingwasgoingtoliftthefuckingban,Jesushimselfincluded.
Ifitwereuptome,AislingFitzpatrickwouldn’tbeallowednearared-bloodedmanwhowasn’tarelativeuntiltheendofherdays.Nottomentionafuckingherdofthem,drunkandsweaty,inmyclub.Thememoryofherbeingyankedbythatassholeinmyclubscorchedthroughmybrain.I’dalmostkilledthekid.TheonlythingthatstoppedmefromslashinghisthroatinaroomfullofpeoplewasIdidn’tknowitwasAislingatthetime.
“No,”shesaidflatly.“We’lldothingsmyway.Holdonasec.”
Sherummagedthroughthingsinthebackground.LittleNixwasjustfullofsurprises,wasn’tshe?First,shegavemethefuckofmylife.Nowshewassavingmyass,oratleastmysoldiers’asses.Iwashalf-sadtoseetheopportunityoframmingintoherwithmycockagaingotowastebecauseofherfather.
“Youwon’thavetheequipmentIneed.I’lltextyouanaddressinafewminutes.Comealone—justyouandyoursoldiers—andmakesurenooneseesyou.”
Iwasgoingtoaskquestions.Themostpressingonebeing“whatthefuck?”butshehunguponme.Notaminutelater,shetextedmeaDorchesteraddress.Idrovetotheaddressandwassurprisedtoseethatitwasaresidentialbuilding.Oneofthosenever-endingred-brickedVictorianstructuresavarietyofcollegestudentsandgangmembersfavored.
IhurledBeavisandButtheadoutofthevananddraggedthemtotheblackwoodendoor,punchingthedoorbell.Thedooropenedonitsownaccord—unlocked—andwhenIsteppedinside,therewasawordlesssignleadingtothebasement.Theapartmentitselflookednotonlyresidentialbutoccupied.CannedlaughterofdaytimeTVshowsechoedfromsomewhereinsidetheapartment,andthewelcomerugwasdampwithmeltedsnow.
What.The.Fuck.
DraggingBeckerandAngusliketheyweresacksofpotatoesdownthestairwaybythehemoftheirshirts,Idumpedthematthefootofthebright,clean,whitebasement,scanningtheplace.Motherfucker.IknewanundergroundclinicwhenI’dbeeninone,andthiswasdefinitelyitwithanoff-whitecouch,ashelffullofmedicalbooks,afakeplant,andcheappaintwork.
Illegal.Operating.Andgoddamnsecretive.
Theplacelookedempty.
Aislingwalkedoutofawhitedoor,dressedinoneofhersignaturedressesthatmadeherlooklikeasexuallyoppressedBritishroyal.Noscrubs,Inoted,eventhoughshe’dbeenwearingthemlasttimeIsawheratAveburyCourtManor.
EvenwearingsomethingQueenElizabethwoulddeemtooconservative,thepalepinkagainsthersnowyskinmademewanttotearoffherstupiddressandeatheroutonthefloor.EspeciallynowthatI’ddecidednotto.
“Whatdowehavehere?”ShewentstraighttoBeckerandAngus,notablyignoringmyexistence.Sheslappedonapairofelasticgloves,startingwithBecker.Sheflippedhimoverlikehewasafishsheconsideredbuyingatthemarket,zeroinginonhiswound,frowning.Yetagain,Irealizedthatshewasdelicatelookingbutcouldholdherown.Shewasn’tphysicallyfrailandwasn’tsqueamish.
ShepointedatBecker,notevenaskingforhisname.“I’mgoingtostartwiththisone,sinceheneedsurgentmedicalattention.Makeyourselfusefulforachangeandhelpmesethimuponthetable,willyou,Sam?”
Wasthatadig?I’dbiteherheadoffifIwereinapositiontodoso.Asithappened,shewasdoingmeasolid,soIhoistedamostlyunconsciousBeckeragainstmyshoulder,ignoringherpatronizingtone,andfollowedherintothesmallroom,whichhadasurgicaltable,adesk,andalargemedicinecabinet.
Theroomwasfullydeckedoutinmedicalequipment,anesthetics,IVstands,andabloodpressuremonitor.
Thewhat-the-fuckquestionswerepilingup,niceandhigh,asItriedtopiecetogetherhowthismeek,innocentwoman,whowasdoingherresidencyatBrighamHospitalasanOB-GYN,knewaboutaplacelikethis,letalonehadeasyaccesstoit.
“Whatthehellisthisplace?”Ihissed,notaccustomedtobeingkeptinthedark.EspeciallyasI’dalwaysthoughtIkneweverythingtherewastoknowabouttheyoungestFitzpatrick.
“Afriendofmineownsit.Hetreatspeoplewithoutinsurancehere.Peoplewhocannotaffordurgentcare,”sheexplainedprimly,signalingmewithherchintothespotwhereshewantedmetodisposeBecker.SoIdid.
“Areyouhelpinghimdothis?It’sfuckingillegal,Aisling.Ican’tletyoudothis.”
Thismadeherbarkoutalaugh.“I’veseenyoushootsomeoneintheheadandyouareheresoIcanpatchupyourhitmen.Oh,thehypocrisy.DareIsay,Sam,thisissodeliciouslyrichIthinkyourstatementaloneshouldbeinahighertaxbracketthanmyfamily.”
“YouandIarenotthesame.”
“Accordingtoyou…”Sheshrugged.“You’renothingtome.”
“Iamyourfather’sright-handman.Myjobistokeephiskidsoutoftrouble.IwilldowhateverthefuckIneedtotostopyoufromgettingthrowninjail.”
“Youwillkeepwellawayfromme,Brennan,andletmedomyjob,orIwillneverhelpyouagain.”
Shewenttoanearbysink,dumpedherelasticgloves,andscrubbedherhandswithsoapbeforeputtingonanewpairasIglaredather.Shehadapoint.Heraccesstothisplacecouldbebeneficialtome.TherewasnoreasonwhyoldGerryneededtoknowhisdaughterwasbeinganidiotaslongasitworkedinmyfavor.
“CanIseeyourticket?”sheasked,herbacktome.
“Whatthefuckdoyoumean?”Ifrowned.
“Totheshowyouareapparentlywatching.Getout,Sam.I’mworkinghere.”
Concealingmysurprise(anddelightatdiscoveringthisbossysideofher),Ileanedagainstthedoor,givingzerofucksaboutAngus,whowasstillinthereceptionwithhisdanglingarmandpornstarmoans.
“IthinkI’llstayandseeyouinaction,ifyoudon’tmind.”
“Idomind.”
“Allowmetocorrectmystatement—Idon’tcareifyoumind.I’mstaying.”
“Iwon’ttreathim,”shethreatenedbutwasalreadygettingtoworkcuttinghisshirtverticallywithapairofscissors.
“Yes,youwill.Yourneedtobehelpfuloverpowersyourhatredtowardme.”
“Don’tbesosure,”shemuttered,workingquicklyandefficiently,removingthebulletfromBecker’slungswithoutbreakingafuckingsweat.
“YourHippocraticOath,then.”
Itwasbeautiful.WatchingAisling,thegirlIknewsinceshewasseventeen,withdrawingabulletfromaman’slungswiththesteadiestofhandswhilehewaswrithinginpain,twistingunderneathher.Icouldtellthebulletdidn’tpiercethroughthelung,butitwasstilldamnimpressive.
“Anynews?”sheaskedasshebeganstitchinghimup.
“About?”
“Myfatherandthemediacircusaroundhim.”
YoumeantheoneIcreatedbyhackingintothatpoorwoman’scloudjusttosatisfymybloodthirstytendencies?
ItonlymildlysatisfiedmetoseeGeraldshittingbricksinfrontofhisentirefamilywhilehetriedtoexplainthatheadline.Ihadmuchbiggerplansforhim,andIwasgoingtoexecutethem.Soon.
“Stillworkingonit.”
“Abitslow,aren’tyou?”HerdelicatebrowspinchedtogetherasshewovetheneedleinandoutofBecker,whoatthispointwaspassedout.ShelookedlikeanEnglishroseworkingonaquilteddress,notlikeadoctorstitchingupaB-grademobster.
“Yougotaproblem,speaktomymanager.”
“Youareyourownmanager,”shepointedout.
“That’sright…”Ipausedforeffect“…andIdon’tcarewhatyouthinkaboutmyservices,sotoughfuckingluck,Nix.”
“Sotaciturn,”shetsked,treatingmelikeIwasnomorethanaboy,likeSparrowwouldwhenIhadpreteenmeltdownsanddidn’tknowwhattodowithmyenergy.“Almostlikeyouhavesomethingtohide.”
“Lookstomelikeyou’retheonewiththejuicysecrets.Tellmeaboutthisfriendofyourswhoisoperatingthisplace.”Imotionedwithmyhandaroundus.MaybeitwastimetoreplaceDr.Holmberg.Thisplacelookedlegit,andtheequipmentwasmuchbetter.
“Iwilldonosuchthing.Irespecthisprivacy.”
Interesting
Iscannedthebackofherhead,herraven-bluelockstwistedtogetherintoabraid,flungoveronesideofhershoulder.Thecontrastofherdarkhairwithherpaleeverything—eyes,skin,features—madeherdelectableandforbidden,muchyoungerthanhertwenty-sevenyears.
“YouknowI’llfindouteitherway.Doyourselfafavorandgivemetheinformationnow,”Ihissed,notusedtopeopletalkingbacktome.
Anotherfirstforme,sponsoredbytheunlikelyAislingFitzpatrickandhernewlyfoundspunk.
Sheturnedaround,ahintofasmileonherlips.
“I’dliketoseeyoutry.NowpleasehelpmereturnDumbtothereception,andfetchmeDumber.Goon,now.”Shewavedmeoffwithahuff.
NixwentontoputAngus’arminamakeshiftcastthenproceededtotellhimhowtotendtohisinjury,talkingtohimlikeshewasateacherandhewasaschoolboywhohadjustcrappedhispantsinthemiddleofmorningassembly.
AsIwatchedher,IremindedmyselfthatmyneedtofuckherwasreallyaboutmydesiretofuckGeraldFitzpatrickover.Nothingmore.Shewasagreatfuck,sure,andafairlyharmlessgirlwho’dbeenchasingmearoundforadecade.OfcourseIwantedinherpants.Whatmanwouldn’t?
IjustwantedtoruinanotherthingthatwasprecioustoGerald.
OnlyinAisling’scase,Iwasgoingtospareher.Orspiteherbynotgivingherwhatshewanted.Ireallywasn’tsurewhichofthetwohaddrivenmetonottouchher.AllIknewwasIhadhealthyinstincts,andmyinstinctstoldmetostaythefuckawayfromthiswoman—faraway.
Whenshewasdone,andbothsoldierswerewaitingformeatthereception,shesaunteredbacktothesmallsinkforanothervigorousscrubofherhandsandarms,stillignoringmelikeherlifedependedonit.
“WhatdoIoweyou?”Itookoutmywallet,pluckingoutawadofcash.
“Ninegrand,plussupplies,solet’sroundittoeleven.Cashonly.”Shepluckedapapertoweloffthestand,wipingherhandsthenslam-dunkingthewadofpaperintoatrashcan.
Istaredather,waitingforthepunchline.Whenitdidn’tarrive,Inarrowedmyeyes.
“You’rekiddingme.”
“Heavens,Brennan.I’mahighbornwoman.Ilackanythingresemblingagoodsenseofhumor.GoesagainsteverythingI’vebeentaughtinCatholicschool,”Ashsaidgravely.“Doyouthinkitwouldbelesspriceyifyoutookthemtothehospital?”
“IthinkifItookthemtothehospital,theywouldn’thavebeentreatedinsomefratboy’sfuckingbasement.”
Shepokedherlipwithafingerassheconsideredmywords,unaffected.TheonlythingremindingmeIwastheoneincontrolofthesituationwasherbottomlesseyes.TheyheldapromisetoalwayswantwhatIhadtooffer.
“They’realiveandwell.Sameresultasyou’dgetatthehospital.I’msorry,Iassumedyou’dhavethiskindofmoneyhandy.Wouldyoulikemetoletyouknowaboutourpaymentoptions,Mr.Brennan?”
Thelittleshi—
Isteppedforward,eatingupallofthedistancebetweenusinonego,baringmyteethasIboxedherinwithmyarmsoneithersideofhershoulders,againstthewall.
“Whatareyouplayingat,Nix?”
“Nothing.”Hereyeswidenedinnocently.Blue,soterriblyblue,andeveryshadeofthecolorunderthesun:ocean,sky,crayon,younameit.“Youaskedformyservices.Iassumedyouwerepreparedtopayforthem.”
“Youdon’tneedthemoney.”Iwaschest-to-chestwithhernow,andhereitwasagain,thatfaintgingersmellmixedwithflowersandhoneythatgavemedéjàvuofthingsandplacesI’dneverexperienced.
I’lldothingstoyouyouwillneverforget.
“Neitherdoyou.Sopayup.I’llbeseeingyouatThanksgivingdinner.Youcanpaymethen.”Ashsmoothedherdress,whichwasnowstainedinBecker’sblood
Right.
Theworldstillturnedonitsaxis,andourfamiliescontinuedtoplaynicewithoneanother,oblivioustomyvendetta.OtherthanTroy,whoknewbetterthantoeverletitslip.
TheFitzpatrickswerehostingaThanksgivingdinnernextweek.Iwouldn’tmissitfortheworld,butforallthewrongreasons,andnoneofthemhadanythingtodowiththeircook’sstuffedturkey.
“Nowifyouexcuseme…”Nixduckedundermyshoulder,tryingtoslipaway.Ipushedforward,pinningherinplaceagainstthewall.Ifitwasn’tfortheslightquiveringofherchin,Icouldhaveswornshewascoolasacucumber.Butthatsmallshakebetrayedher,andIseizedtheopportunitytotiltsaidchinupward,forcinghertolookatme.
“Howaboutakiss?”Icoaxed,mypalmslidingfromherwristtoherwaist,downthecurveofherfirmass,squeezingasIpulledherclosertome.Ididn’tlikethepowershiftbetweenusandwantedtoremindherwhowastheboss.Ifeltherthighsshakingagainstmysprawledfingers,readyandwanting,shiveredintomeasIgatheredherclose.Herbodywassoft,smooth,feminine.WithhiddencurvesIhadnobusinessthinkingaboutandwaspaidtoignore.
Herheatradiatedbetweenourclothes,andIstifledagroan,yankingherbraid,extendingherneckandforcinghertolookatme.
“Wouldakissbeasufficientformofpayment?”Imurmured,mylipsglidingdownthesideofherneck.
Shesaidnothing,herheartslammingagainstmineerratically,beggingformore.
Rearingmyheadback,Icrashedmymouthagainstherspunishingly,resentingherformyneedtotasteher—andmyselfforyieldingtotemptation.
Itwasabrutalkiss,withteethandclawsandtongue,designedtohumiliateher,toremindherwhichoneofuswasincontrol.
Aisling’slipsmoldedovermineimmediately,compliantandsoft.Shemoanedgently,hertonguemeetingminethrustforthrust,likewewerefuckingeachother,herfingerscurlingaroundthecollarofmyshirt,drawingmecloser.IbitherlowerlipuntilIsplititopen,herwarm,metallicbloodtricklingintomymouth.Shetensedbutdidn’tbreakthekiss.
Breakthefuckingkiss,Aisling.
ShowmeI’mtoomuchforyou.
Isuckedonherblood,pullingherentirelipintomymouth,andsheletme,thelittlemonsterthatshewas.
“Youtastelikeanashtray,”shepurredintomymouth.Viper-like,herwordsdrippedvenomwhileshestilldevouredmehungrily,notlettinggo.
“Maybeso,butyoutastelikeaneasylay,myleastfavoriteflavorofwoman.”Ichuckleddarkly,puttingmorepressureonherlips,kissingherharder,tastingherbloodandhertearsandheranguishandenjoyingallofthembecausetheyweremine
Sofuckingsalty.Sofuckingsweet.
Iwashard.Sohard,IknewIwasinrealdangeroftakingheronthesurgicaltableshehadusedjustminutesagotostitchupthetwomoronsonmypayroll.Itoremymouthfromhers,brushingmythumboverhercheekbone.Shestumbledforward,losingbalance.Iletherfallonmychestbutdidn’thelpherrightherself.
“Nowwe’reeven.”Ishovedthewalletbackintomypocket,surprisedtoseethatdespitefeelinghertearsearlier,herfacewasdryandcalm.
“Oh,youthoughtakisswouldbeyourpaymentasopposedtotheelevengrandyouoweme?Ohmy…”sheclutchedthepearlsonherneck,twistingthemexaggeratedly,likehermotherwould“…myapologies,Mr.Brennan.Idon’tacceptsexualfavorsaspayment.Thatwouldbemyfather’sspecialty,andIverymuchdoubthe’dbeinterestedinwhatyouhavetooffer.IwouldstilllikethemoneyatThanksgiving.What’sthecommoninterestyourloansharksuse?Forty-fivepercent?Thatsuitsme.Now,haveagoodrestoftheday,Mr.Brennan,anddotakecare.”
Theeleventhousanddollarswaswaitingonthenightstandinmybedroomthefollowingmorning,stackedhighandneat,pinnedwithagoldenbullet.Therewasalsoonepennyrightbesidethem,andanotescribbledmessilyinbold,longstrokes
Here.Buyyourselfsomethingpretty.
Itshouldhaveterrifiedme.
ThefactthatSamhadbeeninmyvicinity—inmyroom—whileIwassoundasleep.Hecould’veslitmythroatifhewantedto.Instead,Ifeltwhite-hotthrillwashingthroughmyveinsasIimaginedhisimposing,colossalfigurecastingashadowovermysleepingbody,hishandsthatcouldsnapmybonesliketwigssoclosetomyspine.
He’dbeentherewhenIwasinmyflimsynightgown,myhairfannedoverthewhitesatinpillow,dreamingofhiscrushingweightaboveme,makinglovetome.
Iknewhewouldnotsendanyoneelse.No.Noneofhissoldierswoulddo.Hewouldneverallowthemtogetanywherenearme.Heviolatedmyspace,yes,butIknewtherewerelimitsbetweenus.Unwrittenrulesthatmademefeelsafe.
Ipickedupthebullet—cold,metallic,andheavierthanIexpected—mullingitoverasitsatinmyhand.
Didhestopandstare?Didhereplaythekisswe’dsharedattheclinicinhishead?We’dalmosttoreeachother’smouthsapart.
Icouldstillfeelafaintpulseagainstmylips.
SometimesIsuspectedSamfeltit,too.Thewildelectricitybuzzingbetweenuseverytimewewereinthesameroom.Wheneverhelookedatmewiththosesilvermooneyesastheyslantedjustso,zeroinginonme,watching.
Othertimeshewouldbeinmyvicinity,havingamealwithmyfatherorabeerwithDevon,Cillian,andHunter,andignoremyexistencesothoroughly,soconvincingly,I’dforgetIwasintheroom,too.
Hewasamystery,andmysteriesweremeanttobeunearthed,uncovered,andunfolded.I’dfinallycaughthisattention—snatcheditagainsthiswill—graspingontoitwithbloodiedfingers,andIhadeveryintentionofkeepingit.
Iwasgoingtofighthimtoothandnail,gohead-to-headwiththeunderworld’skingjustsoIcouldhavehim.ProvetohimthatIwasworthyofhisattentionandhislove.
SoIdidtheonlythingIcoulddo,knowingthatIhadanentireweektowaituntilThanksgivingdinner,whenI’dseehimagain.
Itwascrazy,anddangerous,nottomentionillegal,andyet,soclassicallySamIcouldn’tresistthetemptation.ShowhimIwasNixthroughandthrough.Acunningmonsterwhojusthappenedtolookgoodinagown.
Thenightafterheputthemoneyonmynightstand,IdrovetoBadlands,foundthebackdoortotheplacerightbehindthebuilding,byanalleyandstackedmonopolymoney—11kofit—andpinneditwiththelonepennyhe’dleftforme.ThenIdrencheditingasolineandsetfiretoit.
Iknewhewouldneverknowthedifference.Thathewouldthinkitwasreallythemoneyhehadgivenme,butI’ddonatedthatmoneytomycharityofchoice.SomethingMs.Bwouldhavewantedmetodo.
Iranbacktomycar,duckingbehindthewindowasIpeekedtoseethebackdooropeningasthestenchofburnedpaperseepedthroughthecracks.Samappeared,accompaniedbyDumbandDumber.DumbranbacktotheofficetobringafireextinguisherwhileDumberdesperatelytriedtodefusethefirebypouringwaterandhandfulsofsnowonit,hisarmstillinasling.
Samjuststoodthereandgrinneddevilishly,watchingthemoneyburn.
Hedidn’tneedawrittennotetoreadthefuckyouinwhatIdid.
Heknew.
TheFitzpatrickclanhadalwaysbeenhugeonThanksgiving.
Isuspecteditwasbecausewehadsomuchtobethankfulfor.
Notonlywereweoneoftherichestfamiliesinthecountry,butwewerealsoblessedwithniecesandnephews,allrosy-cheeked,healthy,andbarelyintotheirtoddlerhood.
ThedayofThanksgivingbutlersfrettedaboutthelongtableinourdiningroom,rearrangingmapleleafbowlsmadeoutofgold,pumpkins,champagneglasses,andornaments.Thecenterpieceswereburstingwithfallandwinterfruit,andeverythingwaslacedwithgoldandsilver.Warmandinvitingcandlelightilluminatedtheroom,andthescentofcinnamonandsugareddoughtraveledfromthekitchen,ticklingmynostrils.
Pacingbackandforthinmyoff-the-shoulderorangeGivenchydress—IknewwearingitwouldpleaseMother,whohadrecentlybeenquitethepaintoserveanddoteon—Istoppedbythewindow,watchingmybrotherCillianunloadhisfamilyfromhiscar,animperialfrownonhisface.
HeopenedthedoorforPersephone—Persy,thatwaswhatwecalledher—scoopinglittleAstorintoaBabyBjornhestrappedoverhisshoulders.Mybreathcaught,andmyheartsqueezedatthesightofmybrotherdoingsomethingsofatherly,socaring,insuchanaturalmannerdespitehisusualcoldandaloofdemeanor.
TheminuteAstorwassecuredclosetohischest,Cillianleaneddownandpressedakissonhisson’shead.
IrealizedIwasjealous.JealousofmygoodfriendPersy,whodeservedthislifemorethananyoneelseIknew—andstill,Iwantedwhatshehadformyself.
Notwhoshehaditwith,obviously—Iwascrazy,butnottheshadeofcrazywhowasokaywithincest—butIwanteditwithsomeoneIcouldn’thave.Sam
Turningawayfromthewindow,Ipretendedtobusymyselfbyrearrangingperfectlyarrangedornamentsatthecenterofthetable.
Samwasgoingtoarrivesoon,andIneededtogathereverydollopofstrengthtofacehimwithmyheadheldhighandmybackstraight.
“Ash?”IheardavoicewonderbehindmeandturnedaroundtofindPersytuckingalockofherblondehairbehindherear.Shewaswearingaromanticeveningdresswithabeautifulfloralprint,holdingawide-awakebabyAstorinherarms.Hismarble-blueeyesglitteredatmewithdelight,ashockofchocolatehaircoveringhistenderhead.Hethrewhischubbyarmsinmydirection,andIscoopedhimupwithathrilledsqueak,pressinghimtomychestandinhalinghisintoxicatingbabyscent.
“Hey,Pers…”IrubbedmycheekagainstAstor’ssilkystrands,marvelingyetagainathowmuchhelookedlikehisfather“…howareyou?”
“I’mgreat.Youlookedthoughtfulthroughthewindow.WhichwaswhyIbypassedtheusualhugsandkissesroutinetoseehowyouweredoing.Yourmotherlooks…preoccupied.”Shetookaseatatthetable,eyeingmecuriously.
Preoccupiedwasaverynicewayofputtingit.Mymotherwasworkingmetothebonethesedays,askingmetohelpwithherbath,readherbooks,anddriveheraroundbecauseshedidn’twanttoconversewithherusualdriver.ButIwasn’tinthemoodtotalkaboutthat.
“Where’sCillian?”IwalkedaroundtheroomwithAstor,whowantedtoreachandtoucheverything.
“WithGeraldinhisoffice.Ican’tbelievehedidthattoyourmom.”Persybittheinsideofhercheek.Shehadalwaysbeenniceandgentle,andIknewshesparedmethemorebluntwordsIwasboundtohearfromSailorandBelle.
“Ican.”IputAstordownonthecarpet,allowinghimtoexplorehissurroundings.
“SailortoldmeSamaskedforyournumber,”Persephonecontinued,scanningmewitheagereyes,asiflookingatmewouldinspiremetospillmoreinformation.Merde.IknewmyfriendswereinvestedinmyquesttomakeSamBrennannoticemyexistence,butatthesametime,Ihatedhowtheytreatedme.LikeIwasasilly,na?vegirlincapableofbaggingthemanofherdreams.
Ifeltespeciallypathetic,consideringPersephonewashappilymarriedtomybrother,thecatchofthecenturyaccordingtoPeopleMagazine,andSailorwasmarriedtomyotherbrother,whotreatedherlikeaqueen.Emmabelle(whowasPersephone’ssister)mightnothavebeenmarried—butitwasbychoice.
Iwastheoddoneout.Thedoomedgirlmourningherunrequitedlove.
AndIdefinitelydidn’twantthemtoknowaboutmycurrentrelationshipwithSam,whichputmeinalessthanafavorableposition.
“Itwasnothing.”Iwavedahandaround,followingAstortomakesurehedidn’tbumpintoanythingordecidedtostickhisfingersinoutlets.“Hejustneededsomehelp.Somethingwork-related.”
“Huh.”Persephonesprawledinherseat,tappingafingeroverherchinthoughtfully.“Butmaybeit’sastart?Henevercontactedyoubefore,andyou’rehardlytheonlypersonhecouldturnto.”
Persephonewassucharomantic,anythingshortofSamtryingtomaimmewithamachetewouldregisterinhermindasaprimeexampleofhisundyingloveforme.
Irolledmyeyes.“You’regraspingatstraws,Pers.”
“Weirderpairingshavehappened.Lookatyourbrotherandme,”shesaideagerly,makinghercase.“Youjustneedmorepatienceasyoupursuehim.”
“Cillianalwayshadabonerforyou.Hejusthiditlikeathirteen-year-old.Samisnotpursuable,”Iconcluded,feelinglikeaphonysinceIwasdefinitelywaist-deepinthiscatandmousegamewithSam.
ButIdidn’twanttojinxthingsorjumptoconclusions.Plus,ifnothingcameoutofit—whichwaslikely;myplanwasfarfetched—atleastIwouldn’thavetodealwithmorepityfrommyfriends.
“Ifyourbrothersarepursuable,soisSam,”Persydetermined,puttingherfootdown.“Youshouldgoforwhatyouwant.”
“ButwhatifwhatIwantiseverythingthat’sbadforme?”Iturnedaround,findinghergaze.“WhatifI’mstupidtowantSamBrennan?Heisagangster.Amurderer.Anundergroundbossandmyfather’srighthand.Somanythingscangowrong.Ifthey’llgoinanydirectionatall…”
“Youjustdescribedlove.”Persygrinned.“Loveisarisk.It’sastormthateitherdisruptsyourlifeorclearsyourpath.Sometimesitdoesbothatthesametime.Focusongettingtheguy.Everythingelsewillfallintoplace.”
Anhourandahalflater,theeveningwasinfullswing.
Everyonewasatthetable,diggingintothedeliciousfoodCookhadmade.
Honey-roastedturkey,butterymashedpotatoes,pumpkinpecanbreadpudding,goldenbakedapples,andsavorysausagestuffing.
Candlelightdancedaroundtheroom,castingplayfulglowsonfamiliarfaces,aschatterrangfromallacrossthetable.
SailorandPersy’saupairssatinthefarcorneroftheroomwiththechildren—Astor,Xander,andRooney—gossipingandtendingtothebabies.Samsatallthewayattheothersideofthetablefromme,andeventhoughIcouldfeelhiseyesonmeeverynowandagain,assessing,daring,challenging,Imadeitapointtosticktoconversationswithmymother,Sailor,Persephone,andEmmabelle.
Normally,Iwouldtrytotalktohim,askhimquestions,formsomesortofaconnection.Notrightnowandnottoday.Iwasnolongerthegirlwhochasedhim.OrsoIwantedhimtothink.
“TheconceptofThanksgivingisstilljarringtome,”Devoncomplainedfromtheotherendofthetable,nexttoSam,inhisimperial,poshEnglishdrawl.Hecuthisturkeyintofrighteninglyevenpiecesandlookedentirelytoogoodforamanwhodidn’tmodelforaliving.“Whoexactlyareyoulotthanking?”
DevonwaswhatBellereferredtoasappallinglygorgeous.Allsoftblond,sandycurlstwistingattheearsandthenapeofhisneck,piercingblueeyes,andthebonestructureofadeity.
“Um,God?”Hunterthrewapieceofsweetpotatointohismouth,chewing.“You’rejustbitterbecausewehavestufftobethankfulfor.Big-boxstores,theFirstAmendment,Jewishdelifood,and,ofcourse,ScarlettJohansson.Whatdoyouhavetobethankfulfor?”
“Footie,brownsauce,andbeinggenerallyintellectuallysuperiortotheYanks,”Devondeadpanned,regardingallthefoodatthetablelikeitwassuspicious.
“Byfootieyoumeansoccer?”Myfatherfrowned.He’dbeenfairlyquiettheentirenight.
“No,byfootballImeanfootball.Theonewhereyoukicktheballwithyourfoot…”Devonpattedthecornersofhismouthunnecessarilywithanapkin“…asopposedtoholdingitinyourhandwhilerunning,crashingintorandompeoplelikeabarbariantryingtosneaktherivalvillage’sbest-lookingmaiden.”
“Keeptrashingfootball,andtheonlythingyou’llbethankfulforthisThanksgivingisgettingoutofthismealinonepiece.”Troyofferedastonysmile,swirlinghiswhiskeyinhishand.
“So,Sam,you’rethelastsinglemanstanding.UpforaquicktriptoSinCitytoplayblackjackatthecasinothisweekend?”Devonchangedthesubject.
“You’restilldoingthat?”Sparrowdartedpoisonousarrowsathersonthroughherjade-greeneyes.“It’sdangerous,nottomentionreckless.You’realreadyblacklistedfromthreehotels.”
Samsmiled,eatingandpretendingliketheconversationdidn’tswirlaroundhim
“Notsurprised.”Hunterchuckled,raisinghisvirginBloodyMarytohislips.“DoIwanttoknowwhatfor?”
“Winningtoomuchmoney.”Devonlaughed,pouringhimselfanotherdrink.“SamisthebestblackjackplayerI’veeverseeninmylifetime.Awizardwithnumbers,really.Hemakesallthecalculationsinsplitseconds.”
Ithoughtbacktothefinitemathematicshomeworkhe’dworkedoutformewhenIwasstillateenager.Devonwasn’texaggerating.
“Whatagreatwaytoutilizeyouranalyticaltalent,”Cilliandrawledsarcastically.
“Bettertowasteatalentinthewrongplacethannothaveoneinthefirstplace,”Sampointedout.
“Yourmaintalentistofindyourwayintorichpeople’sinnercircle,”Cilliancountered,histoneeasy.“Whichyou’vebeendoingverywellsincechildhood.”
“Anyway,cardsatBadlandtonight,”Huntersaid.“Rightafterdinner.”
IwantedtohearmoreaboutSam,butmymotherwasdesperatetodrawmeintotheconversationshewashaving.Shedidthatoften.Luredmeintosmalltalktosaveherfromawkwardlulls.Shesaidshefoundsocializingtiring,yetshethreweventsallthetimeandcountedonmetodoallthetalkingandfundraisingonherbehalf.
“I’msoluckytohaveAisling…”Motherpattedhereyeswithhernapkin,sighingheavily“…Idon’tknowwhatIwouldhavedonewithouther.Sheismyanchor.Nowondersheworksatbringinglifeintothisplanet.Sheismyperfectangel.”
“Shesureissaintly,ma’am.”Emmabelleflickedupabrowinmydirection,givingmethestinkeye.IknewBellewouldlovenothingmorethanifIshowedmydevilishsidealittlemoreoften.“Toogoodtobetrue.Almost.”
“Rightnow,sheisworkingdayandnighttohelpmewithacharityeventthismonth,”mymotherstarted,andIcouldseetherestofmyfriendshadalreadytrainedtheirfacetostoicpoliteness,knowingshewasgoingtoyapaboutitforhours.
Ifeltmyphonebuzzingunderthetable,inmylap,andlookeddown.Thenumberflashingacrossthescreensignaleditcamefromtheclinic.Merde
Iduckedmyheaddown,swipedthebartothegreencircle,andanswered.“Yes?”
ItwasthecallIdreaded.TheoneIdidn’twanttoreceive.
Apatientwhohadbeenstrugglingprettybadly.
“Yes.Ofcourse.No,itisnotabadtimeatall.I’monmyway.Thankyou.”
Ihungupthephone,smilingbrightlytoeveryoneatthetable,realizingforthefirsttimethephonecalldreweveryone’sattention.Sam’seyesrestedonmelazily,swirlingthewhiskeyinhistumblerashewatchedmewithamildlyentertainedlookIwantedtowipeoffofhisface.
Thewholenighthe’dbeenlookingatmelikehecouldn’tdecidewhetherhewantedanotherroundinthesackwithmeorwantedtokillme.Iwishedhe’djustmakeuphismindandputmeoutofmymisery.
“Myapologies,butIhavetorun.Somethingimportantatwork.”Istoodupabruptly,pattingmymother’sshoulder.Everyone’sattentionmademyearshotandmyfingerstremble.“Complimentstoourchef.Iwillsendherflowerstomorrowmorningforhertroubles.Thankyou,everyone.Haveagoodevening.”
Withthat,Idashedout,runningstraighttomyPrius,notevenbotheringtograbacoatonmyway.ImadeabeelinetotheaddressIpunchedintomyphone.
IttookmeanhourtogettotheresidentialbuildinginWestford.Anewlybuiltapartmentcomplexwithatenniscourt,apool,andanindoorgym.Therewasn’tsecurityoranyonemanningthereception,though,somethingI’daskedaboutinadvance,justtobeonthesafeside.
Iwenttomypatient’shouse,didwhatIhadtodo,andgotoutoftherethreehourslater.AllthoughtsabouttheThanksgivingdinnerI’dleftbehindwerenowdemolishedandgone.AllIthoughtaboutwasmywork,mypatients,andher
Oui,moncheri.It’snoteasydoingwhatyoudo.
MykneeswerewobblyandmybreatherraticasImademywaytoagasstationacrosstheroad,trudgingoverthehalf-melted,dirtysnow.Ipushedthedoortothesmallminimartopen.IboughtaCokeformyselfandacakeanddrinkfortheoldmanmanningtheregister,whichhethankedmefor.Ipouredmyselfoutintothebone-coldNovemberwinterinMassachusetts,pressingthebackofmyheadagainstthewallandtakingagulpofCoke.
SometimesIhatedwhatIdid.
Mosttimes,really.
ButthenIrememberedMs.BandhowIfailedherandconvincedmyselfthatIdeservedit.Myoccupation.Mychoices.
StaringdownattheCokeinmyhand,listeningtothefainthissoffizzcomingfromtheliquid,Isuddenlyburstintotears,sobbinguncontrollablyasIdraggedmyselfdownthelengthofthewall,crouchingtomyfeetandburyingmyfaceinmysatinGivenchydress.
“It’snotfair.”Ishookmyhead,seeingtheblacksplotchesmymascaraleftonmygownthroughblurredtears.“Nothingaboutthisisfair.”
“Tellmeaboutit,”anedgytonethatcouldcutglassmademesnapmyheadup.
Sam.
Samworeapeacoat,lookinglikeadashingeighteenthcenturyearl,andleaningonthewalloppositetotheoneIwassittingagainst,anunlitcigarettestuckbetweenhisgorgeouslips.Thankthelordhedidn’tpullaZoolanderandlightitupnexttoagasstation.
“Fairiswhereyougetcottoncandy.Ithasnothingtodowithreallife.Now,tellmehowyoufoundyourselfinWestfordasopposedtoBrighamHospital,whereyourassshouldhavebeentonight.”
He’dbeenfollowingmehere.
Buthow?
Andmoreimportantly…why?
Becauseyougothisattention,andnowheiswaitingtoseewhatyou’lldowithit.Youburnedhiscashinfrontofhisestablishment,hadanalsexwithhiminawigandahookercostume,andoperatedonhissoldiersinanundergroundclinic.Hejustdiscoveredyouareamonster,too,andnowwantstoknowhowdeepyourdarknessruns.
Iquicklywipedthetearsoffmyface,straighteningmyspine,andstoodup.
“Shouldn’tyoubeplayingcardswithmybrothersatBadlandsrightaboutnow?OrareyoumissingCook’sfamousapplepietobehere?”
“Shouldn’tyoubeansweringmyfuckingquestion?”heretorted.
“Theanswerisnoneofyourbusiness,”Ibitoutharshly.
“Thisoldtuneagain.”Hechuckled,lookingsidewaysasheshookhishead.“Youaremybusiness.Myboss’daughter.Ishouldhavekepttabsonyouandtailedyourassearlier,butIdidn’t.Sohereweare.Nowlet’scutthebullshit,shallwe?Icheckedeverywhereworthcheckingandcross-examinedmysources.YouarenotaresidentatBrighamandWomen’sHospital.”
Merde,merde,merde.
Triplemerdewithacherryontop.
Hewasontome.
“Beencheckingonme,Brennan?”IplasteredwhatIhopedwasateasingsmileonmyface.“I’mflattered,butnotsurprised.Still,thatdoesn’tmeananything.”
“Sureitdoes.Forstarters,itmeansyouareafuckingliar.Myleastfavoritetraitinpeople.ButthenIthoughttomyself,maybethelieisn’tsobig.Maybeit’saboutprestige.Little,perfectAislingdidn’twantherparentstoknowshedidn’tgetacceptedtooneofthemostrespectedhospitalsinthecountry…”hetookanothersteptowardme,hisnostrilsflaring,hisjawhardeningsosharplyitlookedlikeitwascarvedinmarble“…soIwentandcheckedwithallofthehospitalsinBoston,everysinglefuckingone.Guesswhat?”
Ididn’thavetoguess.Iknew.
“You’renotregisteredanywhereasadoctor.Youturnedallofthemdown.Everysinglefuckingoffer.Atthispoint,Igotsuspicious.Didyouevenfinishmedschoolatall?”heaskedtheatrically,takingyetanotherstep,gettingclosertome,crowdingme,pinningmeagainstthewall.“SoIsniffedaroundthatangle,too.Youdid,infact,graduatefromHarvardMedicalSchool.Soit’snotthatyouaren’tadoctor.”Hetookthefinalsteptowardme,andnowweweresoclosehisscentandairandmenaceseepedintomybody,hittingroots,conqueringme.“Whateveryoudo,you’redoingitundertheradar.Whatthefuckareyouplayingat,Nix?”
Hisbodywasflushagainstmine,bigandstrongandthreatening.Mythighsclenchedtogether,thespacebetweenthememptyandneedy.Idrewadeepbreath,tryingtosteadymypulse.Ihadtofindmyvoice.
“Youreallywanttoknow?”
Hestaredatmeexpressionlessly.Ofcoursehedid.SamBrennankneweverythingworthknowingabouteveryone,andIpiquedhisinterest.
Icurledmyindexfinger,signalinghimtoleandownsoIcouldwhisperinhisear.Hecomplied,hisscowldeepeningwithannoyance.Ipressedmylipsagainsthisear,feelinghiscock,hardandthick,pressingagainstmystomach.
“None.Of.Your.Business,”Ibreathed.
Hejerkedback,histhunderstormeyesdarkanddepraved,andsuddenly,IhadafeelingIdidavery,veryfoolishthingtauntingthisman,andIwasgoingtopayforitdearly.
“Don’tplaygameswithme,Aisling.Iwillwin.Easily.AndI’mabadsportandnotoriouslyunfair,justlikeyourmiserablelife.”
Istaredathimdefiantly,keepingmymouthshut.Myteethchattered.Mywholebodyhummedwithenergy,butIdidn’tbackdown.
“Doyouwanttobehumiliated?”Hegrinned,startingtoenjoythisgame.
“No.Iwantyoutomakeupyourmindaboutwhatyouwanttodowithme,”Isaidquietly.
“You’vebeenrunningaftermewithyourskirtup,beggingtobefuckedsincebeforeyougotyourperiod.”
Hechuckled,producingaSwissknifefromhispocket,runningitupmydressandslashingadeep,longslitthroughitsmiddle,rightbetweenmythighs.Thedressrippednoisily.Hetuckedhisknifebackintohispocket,dippinghishandinandbrushinghisfingeralongmyslitthroughmyunderwear.
“You…you…you…”Ipanted,amixtureofrageanddesireswirlinginmystomach.Iknewnoneofthiswashealthyornormal,andyetIcraveditsomuchithurttobreathe.
“Toreyourprettydesignerdress?Don’tworry.Daddy’llbuyyouahundredmore.Thepatheticpartisyou’renotgoingtodenymebecauseyouandIbothknowIcanfuckyouwheneverIwant,howeverIwant,howevermanytimesIwant.Bendyouover—thejeweloftheFitzpatrickcrown,PrincessAislingofAveburyCourtManor—andrammycocksodeepinsideyourassyou’llseestars.”
Iturnedmyfaceawayfromhim,squeezingmyeyesshut.Ihatedhiminthatmoment.Hatedhimbeyondbelief.Buthewasright.Thatdidn’tstopmefromlettinghimsliphishandintomyunderwear,rightthere,inthemiddleofthestreet,behindaslimygasstation.Hedippedtwofingersinsideofmetofindmesoakedandreadyforhim.Hislipswereclosetominewhenhespoke,butIknewhewasn’tgoingtokissme.
Thiswasn’tforeplay.Itwaspunishment.
“Whatdoyoudoforaliving,Nix?”
“Fucky-you,”Istuttered,feelingmyhipsbucking,searchingformoreofhistouch.
“Iwouldn’tcallthatafull-timejob.Iusuallygrowboredofmyfucksafterafewhookups.”Heshovedhisfingersinandout,thrustingdeep,fillingmewhilehisthumbrubbedmyclitincircles.Myskinfeltwarmandtingly.Mykneesturnedtojelly.Iwassuspendedoverthebrinkofdisaster,abouttojumpheadfirstintotheflameshelitjusttodestroyme.
Keepyourcardsclosetoyourchest,moncheri.Youheardhismamanyourself.Heisagoodblackjackplayer.
“Illegal,experimentaldrugs?”heprodded,swirlinghisthumbfasteragainstmyclit.
Ishookmyheaddesperately,refusingtocooperate.Heusedhisfreehandtograbmybutt,curlingafingerintomyassthroughmydress.
Amoanrippedfrommymouthattheunexpectedintrusion,andIfeltsofullIknewaviolentorgasmwascomingmyway.
“Thenoinsurance,doctors-without-bordersbullshitwhereyoutreatthepoorain’tflying,sweetheart.”Heraisedaneyebrow,slantinghisgazetotheapartmentcomplexbehindme,fuckingmeharderwithhisfingers,slippingathirdfingerinandnearlythrowingmeofftheedge.“Whoeverlivesinthatbuildingdoesn’tgetmonthlyfoodstamps.Takeitfromsomeonewholookedpovertyintheeye.I’dhatetoblowyourcoverandkickineverydooratthecomplextofindtheassholeyouvisitedandmilkyoursecretoutofthem.ButI’lldoitifIhaveto.Soforthelasttime,Aisling,tellmewhatthefuckitisthatyoudo.”
Ishookmyhead,stitchingmylipsclosedandsqueezingmyeyesshut,theclimaxwashingoverme,makingeveryfinehaironmybodystandonend.WhenSamrealizedIwasn’tgoingtoanswer,heletmego.Movedawayfrommeunexpectedly.
Iwassoweakwithdesireandpleasure,Inearlyfellflatonmyass,bracingmyselfonthewallasIstruggledtogainmyfooting.
Sam’seyeswerestillonme,narrowedandfulloffury.Hesuckedhisindexfinger,releasingitwithapop,absorbingallthejuicesthatcoateditfromwhenhefingeredme.
“Iwasclose,”Iprotested.
“Toughfuckingluck.Formoreinformation,gotowww.lifeain’tfairandwe’vebeenthroughthis.com.”
“Whatthehell!”Iflungmyarmsintheair.
“Thehellisyouareafuckingheadacheandneedtobetaughtalesson.Iamgoingtogetthetruthoutofyou,Aisling,onewayortheother,butuntilIdo,youloseallcummingprivileges.Notbymyhands,anyway,andlet’sadmitit—yoursolepurposeinlifeisgettingfuckedbyme.”
HisknowledgeofjusthowmuchIwantedhimdestroyedme.Iwastootransparent,toona?ve,toowillingtoshowhimhowmuchhemeanttomeovertheyears.Nowhewasusingitagainstme,andtherewasnothingIcoulddoaboutit.
NothingbuttrytoshowhimIwasmyownperson.Thattherewasmoretomethanlovinghim.
“WhydoyouevencarewhatIdo?”IrearrangedmytorndressaroundmylegsthebestIcouldtoprotectmyselffromtheharshweather.“Youmadeitperfectlyclearyoudon’tgiveadamnaboutme.Youspentawholedecadedodgingmyadvances.”
Notthatthereweremany.ButwheneverIdidmusterthecouragetoreachout,healwaysshutmedowninaspectacularfashion.Thetruthwas,Iwastooscaredtoupsetmyparentstogoafteramantheydidn’twantforme,andSamwastoocareer-focusedtoletsomeonelikemebecomeaproblemforhisbusiness.
Hetookhiscarkeysoutofhiscoat’spocket.
“Circumstanceschange,”heclipped.
“Yes,theydo,”Iagreed.“WhichiswhyIsuggestyoustopassumingIamalwaysgoingtobeatyourdisposal.I’mnotthesamegirlyoumetatthecarnival,Sam.I’mallgrownup,andIwon’tbetreatedlikeI’matoy.”
Heleanedtowardme,smirkingteasingly.“Wannabet?”
“Howarewegoingtosettlethebet?InyourcardroomatBadlands?”Iarchedaneyebrow,achildishpartofmedesperatetolethimknowIwasprivytothewayheranhisbusiness.
“No.You’renotallowedinBadlands,”heremindedmeinawitheringtone.
“ButSailorandPersyare.”Ilaughedbitterly.
“SailorandPersyarenotrunningaroundlookingfortrouble.Theystayathomewiththeirbabies.Isuggestyoudothesame.”
“Idon’thavebabies,”Ipointedouttheobvious.“Oh,andit’snotthenineteenthcentury.”
“Youmightbeannoying,butI’msureyou’llfindaschmuckwillingtoknockyouup.”
“WhataboutBelle?Howcomeshe’sallowedinBadlands?Shelooksfortroubleallthetime.Muchmorethanme.”
“Belleisdamagedgoodsandalsononeofmyfuckingbusiness.IfyouendupcatchingtheclapinBadlands’restroom,yourfamilywillcomecryingtome.”
“You’reasexistpig.”
“Andyouarestillinterested.Whatdoesitsayaboutyou,RuthBaderGinsburg,Jr.?”
Iwasgoingtosaysomethingsnarky,butapparently,Samwasthroughwiththeexchange.Inaswiftfashion,heturnedaroundandsaunteredovertohiscar,whichwasparkedrightbehindme.
“Holdontothoselittlesecretsofyours,Nix.BecauseI’mgoingtohaveonehellofagoodtimeunravelingthem.”
Heslidintohiscarandspedoff.
Leavingmewithathrobbingcenter,wetcheeks,andajumbledhead.
IknewsomethingwaswrongassoonasIparkedthecarbythefountainatmyfrontdoor.AveburyCourtManorwaslikeabody.Ithadbones,aheart,andasoul.Icouldrecognizeitspulsefrommilesaway,andsomethingfeltdifferent.Erratic.
Allthelightsinthehousewereturnedon,thestaff,whichshouldbelonggone,runningbackandforthbythewindowlikeshadowpuppets.Therewasacommotion.Mybrothers’carswerealsostillparkedbytheentrance.Theyshouldbehomebynow.
Somethinghappened.
Hurryingoutofthecar,Iclutchedmykeysinadeathgrip.
Pleasebeokay,Mother.
AssoonasIflungthedooropen,CillianandHunterpouredoutofit,eachofthemholdingDafromeachside.Myfather,greenanddrippingwithsweat,wasslouchedunresponsivebetweenthem,hisheaddanglingfromhisnecklikeapendulum
“Whereareyoutakinghim?”Ishrieked.
Cillianshoulderedpastme,towardhiscar.Ifollowedthem,mylegsstillshakyfrommycrazynight.
“DisneyWorld,”myolderbrotherdrawled,sullen.“Wheredoyouthink?Thehospital.”
“Thehospital!”Iechoed,mymouthturningdry.“Why?Whathappened?Where’sMother?”
“MotherishidinginherroomcryingabouthowDastoletheshow,beingarealfuckingadultaboutitperusual,”Hunterfilledmein,hisvoiceplayfulasalways,evenwhenhiswordswerehotandangry.
“AsforAthair,he’sbeenvomitingnonstopsinceyouleft,hasdiarrhea,adrymouth,arash,troublebreathing,andhefaintedtwicesincedessert.”
CillianbuckledmydadinsidehisAstonMartin.“Howwouldyoudiagnosethat,Doc?”
“Well,Ineedtorunmoretests,ofcourse,butatfirstglanceIwouldsayhewaspoisoned.”
“Ding,ding,ding,”Huntercongratulatedme.“WhenDafinishedhiscupofcoffee,heproceededtocollapseontopofthetablelikeastackofcards.”
Alltheairleftmylungsatonce.
“I’mcomingwithyou.”
“Youjustgotbackfromthehospital,”Hunterpointedout.
Myfacefilledwithheatandshame,andIcurledmylongcoataroundmyselftopreventmybrothersfromseeingthegiantripinmydress.TheythoughtIwasatBrigham,too.BecauseIliedtothem.Toallofthem.Everysinglememberofmyfamilyandthesmallcircleofmyfriends.
“It’snotrouble.”
“Yourfuneral,”Cillianclipped.“Hunter,lethertakethepassengerseat.C’mon,Ash.We’retakingthecar.Wedon’twanttheheadlinesanambulancewouldcreate.”
“ForevertheFitzpatricks.”Huntertouchedhisforeheadwithmocksalute,tuckinghimselfnexttoDa.
IstuffedmyselfintotheseatnexttoCillian.
“Sureyou’reokayleavingyourbabybehind?”Huntaskedfromthebackseat,jerkinghischintowardthemanor.Hemeantourmother.
“Don’tstart.”
“Noshade.”Hunterraisedhispalmsintheairdefensively.“AllI’msayingissheisprobablywritingallofusoutofherwillbecausewearedrivingDatothehospitalinsteadoftellingherhowprettysheis—aftershepoisonedhim.”
Hunteronlyknewthehalfofit.JaneFitzpatrick’sproblemsweremuchworsethanbeingself-centeredandpronetodrasticmoodswings.
AthairwasunresponsivethewholewaytotheER.Assoonaswewalkedin,IfoundoutwhowasthedoctorassignedtodealwithDa,tookhimaside,andexplainedIwasafellowdoctor,relayingtheeveningtogivehimthefullpicture,omittingthepoisoningparttopreventitfromleakingtothemedia.
ThethreeofussiblingsspentthenightsleepingbyDa’sbedside,huddledtogetherlikewhenwewerekids.Thebloodandurinetestresultscamebackthefollowingmorning.
Itlookedlikemyfatherhadtakenanenormousamountofwarfarin,abloodthinnerandalsoanactiveingredientinmanyratpoisons.Adrugthatcaneasilycausedeathiftakeninacertainquantity.
Myfatherhadbeenpoisonedbyaprowhoknewwhattheyweredoing.
Notenoughtokill,butdefinitelyenoughtodeliveramessage.
TheweirdthingwasnooneatthetablehadanymotivetokillDa.
NooneotherthanMother.
“It’snotMother.”Ishookmyhead,standinginCillian’shomeofficelaterthatday,lookingoutthewindowasmoresnowfellandcoveredtherosegardenandtrimmedbushes,paintingeverythingwhite.“It’snot.”
“Oh,comeon,Ash.Attheveryleast,it’sanoptionworthconsidering.They’vebeenateachother’sthroatsforaslongasIcanremember.”Huntermassagedmyshouldersfrombehind,stillinhissuitfromthepreviousnight.
We’dcomeherestraightfromthehospital,assoonasmyfather’ssecretarytookoverandarrivedthere.
Iwhippedaround,slappinghishandaway.“No,Hunt.Sheisincapableofhurtingafly.”
Thatwasnotcompletelytrue.TheonlypersonMotherwascapableofhurtingwasherself,andshediditoften,butIdidn’twantHunterandCilliantoknowaboutthatsideofher.Theyhadenoughontheirplate,runningRoyalPipelinesandtakingcareoftheirfamilies.Theirwivesweremybestfriends,andIdidn’twanttohogmybrothers’attentionbydraggingthemintotheissueswewerehavingatAveburyCourtManor.
“Sheisalsotheonlypersonatthetablewithahard-ontoseeGeraldreturnhisequipmenttotheAlmighty,”Cillianpointedout,takingaseatinhisplushleatherchairandlightingupacigar,hislegsproppeduponhisdeskwithhisanklescrossed.
Somethingaboutmyolderbrotherrejectedvulnerability,soIlearnedhowtobecomeroboticallyefficientinfrontofhimfromayoungage.Ididn’tallowmyselftoshowtoomuchemotion.Notforthefirsttime,IfoundmyselfenvyingPersyandAstor.Thewayhelookedatthemsoadoringly,likehewasstillhungryforsomethinghealreadyhad.
IwonderedifIwouldeverexperiencewhatmyfriendshad.Thekindoflovethatchangespeoplefromwithin.
“Let’smakealist!”Iproposed,snappingmyfingers,rememberinghowSamplannedtotacklemyfather’ssexscandal.“Ofwhowasthere.Thenwecangothroughitanddigdeeper.”
“Allright,Sherlock.”HunterloungedonthesetteebythewindowoverlookingCillian’sgarden.“Let’ssee,therewasXander,Rooney,andAstor,allofthemunderthreeyearsold…”
“Astor’sbeenteething.Hecanbeameanlittlethingwhenheisteething,”Cillianpointedoutsarcastically,causingHuntertolaughandmetorollmyeyes
“Rooneyhasameanstreak,too.Butsheusuallypeesonthecarpetwhensheseeksherrevengeuponus.ThentherewasSailorandme,”Huntersaid.“NeitherofushavebeefwithDa.Andyou,Ash,don’thaveamotiveeither.”
“PersephoneandIareoutofthequestion.Mywifecouldn’thurtaflyifshetried,andIalreadyhaveeverythingIeverneededfromGerald,”Cilliancontinued.“Andthenthere’sEmmabelle.Adistastefulexcuseforahumanbeing,sure,butIwouldn’tgoasfarascallingheramurderer.”
“Whoeverdidthisdidn’ttrytokillhim.Theytriedtospookhim,”Ipointedout.“ButIagree,EmmabellehasnoconnectiontoDawhatsoever.WhataboutTroy?Sparrow?”
“AsfarasI’maware,TroyandSparrowhavenobusinesswithAthair.Noreasontowanttothreatenhim.”Huntershookhishead.
“Devon?”Iwonderedaloud.
Cilliansomehowmanagedtolookdownatme,evenfromhispositionsitting.“Nomotive.”
“True,butheisnotfamily.”
“NeitherisSam.”Cillianpuffedonhiscigar.
“Ithinkweshouldkeepaneyeonhim,too,”Isaidhonestly,somethingclawingatmystomachwhenIthoughtaboutgettinghimintrouble.
Hunterjumpedupright.“Whoa,whoa,whoa,keepaneyehow…?Wewerejoking,but…he’smybrother-in-law.”
“Heisalsothemostcorruptmantowalkthisearth.”Cillianblewringsofsmokeintheair.“I’lldealwithhim.Sniffaround.Seewhatheisupto.”
“No…”Iturnedtofacebothmybrothers“…I’lldoit.Hewon’tsuspectme.”
“Isuspectyou.”Hunter’seyesflaredinalarm.“Nooffense,sis,butevenRooneyknowsAuntieAshisinlurveeeewithUncleSam.AndIdon’tmeanyoubeingpatriotictowardtheUSofA.”
“Butsee,that’swhatmakesitsoperfect,”Isaiddesperately.“HewillneverseemeasathreatorthinkIcouldharmhim.”
“Idon’twanthimanywherenearyou,”Cillianhissed.
“Well,toughluck,bigbro.I’mtwenty-seven.Youcan’tsheltermeforever.”
“Wannabet?”Huntergrinned.Ishothimalook.Cilliansighed.Weallwantedtowrapthisupandgoaboutourdays.
“Fine.Ash,youcansniffaroundSam.Justrememberitisfrownedupontohavesexwithyourtarget,”Cillianclipped.“I’llchecktheDevonangle.”
“AndI’llprayforbothyoursouls.”Hunterdidthesignofthecross,rollinghiseyes.“Becausebothofy’allaredumbasseswhowatchtoomuchCSI.It’sJane.ShewantedtogetbackatDaforstickinghisdickinthewrongholeandthingsgotalittlebitoutofhand.Notthefirsttimeshedidsomethingdrasticandthrewafit.Rememberwhenhegiftedherthebutterflygardenaftershefoundouthe’dbeenscrewingherownsister?NotthatIeverlikedthisparticularauntie,butshethrewhisRolexcollectionintothefoodprocessorandsetittohigh.”
Wehadabutterflygardenatourhouse,builtbymyfathertoshowJaneFitzpatrickhisundyingloveforher.Alovethatcamewiththepriceof$670,000worthofluxuryvintagewatcheshepartedwayswith.
“ThanksforthelittletripdownmemorylanetoremindmeIamthespawnoftwoofthemostdisgustingpeopletoevergracetheplanet.Now,ifthatisall,I’dliketogobacktorunningmycompany.”Cillianputouthiscigar,standingupandwalkingbrisklytowardthewindowwhereIstood.“Maythebestmanwin,Aisling.Youthinkit’sSam,Hunterthinksit’sMother,andIthinkGeraldhasbeenspendingtoomuchtimeatthemedicinecabinetandhadanoopsie.”
Butitwasn’taccidental.Iknew.
BecauseAthairwouldnevermakesuchamistake.Helovedhimselftoomuchtooverdose.Assomeonelivingunderthesameroofashim,Iknewhewascarefulwithhisprescriptiondrugs.
Thiswasintentional.
Allmenatthetablewerecunning,smart,andcapable,butonlyoneofthemhadmurderedsomeonebefore,totheextentofmyknowledge,andwouldgotosuchextremelengthswithsuchease.
Sam.
GeraldFitzpatrickwasagoddamnmess.
Everythingabouthimscreameddepression.Helostweight,alotofit—atleastfortypounds—haddarkcirclesaroundhiseyes,andlookedlikehehadn’tsleptorshoweredindays.
Hewasadeadmanwalking,andIsavoredeverymomentofwatchinghimlikethis.
“ThehostiletakeoverforFMKPetroleumiswellunderway.”CillianpacedGerald’soffice,handsbehindhisback.“Wejustneedtofinalizethesmallprint.”
FMKPetroleumhadbeenbuyingofftheoilfieldsRoyalPipelineshadtheireyesonformonths.TheFitzpatrickswerejustthetypeofpeopletosquashanycompetitionbeforeitbecameathreat.MonopolywastheFitzpatrickgameofchoice,nodoubtaboutthat.
IknewthattherewerecongressmenwhowantedtoseeGeraldandhissonsgodowninflamesforsettingthepaceandrulesfortheoilindustry.EspeciallytheTexasfolks.NobodyhatedtheFitzpatricksmorethantheTexans.
TheIrish,NewEnglandoutsiderswhotookovertheindustry.
“Samuel,areyoureadytogo?”Geraldasked.
Inoddedcurtly.
“TheirCEOwon’tsaynotothedeal.Iduguptoomuchdirtonhim.BythetimeI’mdone,he’llbehappytosellyouhissharesforafuckingCostcomembership.”
“That’smyboy.”Geraldsmiledweakly.
Fuckyou,oldman.
ThestabofrageIfelteachtimehecalledme“myboy”wasenoughtomakemesnap.
“Intermsofthepaperwork,we’vedoneourduediligence,”Devon,whosatnexttoHunter,added.“Allthat’sleftistohopetheCEOhaspullwiththeshareholders.”
Wetalkedshopafewmoreminutesbeforeeveryonesaidtheirgoodbyes,shookhands,anddriftedoutoftheroom.AllofthemexceptGeraldandme.
IwaiteduntilthefrontdoortoGerald’sstudywasclosedandthecoastwasclear—asclearasitcouldbe.Nixhadeavesdroppedonmeonceinthishouse,andIdidn’ttrusthernottodoitagain.Hell,Ididn’ttrustherwithafuckingEspressomachine.Shewasbothanallyandanadversary,dependingontheday.Isuspectedshewasn’tevenhome.Ihadn’tseenherPriuswhenIparkedinfrontofthehouse.Itwaslikelyshehadashiftofwhateverthefuckshedidforaliving—notetoself:findoutandtormentherwithit.
Thememoryofmyfingersdeepinsideofherhauntedme.Ithadbeenafewdays,andIcouldn’tevenburymyselfinanotherwarmholebecauseeverytimeIwenttoBadlandstolookforone,alltheotherwomeninthevicinitycameupshortincomparison.
Atleastnoneofthemhadstirredanythingbelowthebelt.
“Oh,Sam…”Geraldrubbedhisfacetiredly,flippingthroughhisbooks.
“That’sthepointwhereI’msupposedtoaskhowyou’redoing,right,Gerry?”Isatacrossfromhim,lightingacigarette.
“Itis.”Hischinquivered.“Andtheansweristerrible.Iambesidemyself.Imovedoutofmymaritalbedroom.”
“Ah,theolddoghouse,”Isaiddryly,unabletoscrapanounceofpityfortheman.
“Thedoghouseisbetterthansharingabedwithabitch.Idon’twanttobeanywherenearher.Shegoddamnnearlykilledme,Sam.Andtheworstpartissheisstilldenyingit.Tryingtopoisonme.Damnwoman.”
ThefactthateveryonesuspectedJaneFitzpatrickwasthepersonwhopoisonedGeraldwasanewdevelopmenttomebutoneIwelcomednonetheless.Iwantedtotoywiththeman,tomesswithhispsyche.
“Haveyoumadethelistyet?”Iprobed.“Thefasterwegettothebottomofthis,thequickerwecanmoveonfromthis.”
Iwasreferringtothelistofmistresseshe’dkeptovertheyears.I’dinsistedonhimconfessingtoeverysingleone.Forresearchpurposes,ofcourse.“Jealousyanddesperationformoneyarekeyaspectsintryingtomesswithsomeone,”Iexplained.
“Idid.”Geraldpuffedhischeeks.“Threenightsittookme.Doingthismademerealizesomething,youknow,son?ItmademeseethatI’vebeenspendingmostofmytimewithwomenbutnoneofitwiththewomanIwasmarriedto.Suchasadstateofaffairs.Ironically,Iwon’tbegivingJanemoreattentionnow,afterwhatsheputmethrough.”
“Handmethelist.”Iignoredhislittlespeech.Iwasn’tinthemoodforhisfuckingTEDtalk.Ifheneededtositdownandwritethenamesofallthewomenhe’dsleptwithwhilemarriedtofigureouthismarriagewasasham,hehadtheIQoftheroomtemperature.
Reluctantly,Geraldopenedthedrawerinhisdesk,throwingmecautiouslooks.Heclutchedthepapers—allfuckingthreeofthem—tohischestlikeamaidenprotectinghervirtue.
“There’llbesomenamesyoumightrecognizeonthelist.Itrusteverythinginthisroomisconfidential.”
“Sure,”Ispatout.Iwasaprofessional,yes,butthismanfuckedmymother.Thenkilledmybrotherinsideher.Thenconvincedhertoleaveme.
Iwasprofessionalbutnotadumbass.
Hedraggedthelistacrossthedesk,andIsnatchedit,myeyesroaming,lookingforthenameIwaswaitingtosee.
Irecognizedsomeofthewomen.Anewsanchor,acongresswoman,theformerSecretaryofState’swife,andthedaughterofabaseballlegend.
ButIdidnotseeCatalinaGreystone’sname.
Iskimmedagain.Andagain.Anda-motherfucking-gain.
Still.Nothing.
Ilookedupfromthepages,scanninghimsilentlywhilemybloodhummed.Angerwasapotentspice.Toomuchofitdulledyoursenses.ButIcouldn’thelpbutfeelirrationallycross.Whydidn’theputhernameinthere?Ah,butIalreadyknew.Hemustbeprivytothefactshediednottoolongagoandfiguredshecouldn’tbebehindthesexscandalleakandthepoisoningsinceitwasalittledifficulttohauntamanwhenyouweresixfeetunder.
Truthwas,Catalinaposednothreattohimnow,andIhadnoreasontocallhimoutonitwithoutoutingmyselfasknowingabouthim.IfIwantedaconfessionoutofhim,Ineededtoupmygame.
Ifoldedthepagesandstoodup,smiling.
“I’llhavealook.”
“Letmeknowifsomethingpopsup.”Herubbedhisforehead,lookinglikealess-aliveversionofaroadkill.“Ijustwantthisnightmaretobeover.IputextracamerasaroundthehousetomakesureIamprotected.IwanttobelieveitisnotJane,butwithourhistory…”Heshookhishead,heavingasigh.
Makingmywayoutofhisoffice,IwonderedwhythefuckIwassoinvestedinmakingGerald’slifealivinghell.Ididn’tcareoneiotaaboutCat.Sure,Geraldwrongedmeonafundamentallevel,maybeevenkilledmyhalf-brother,butdidhereallydosomethingtothrowmylifeoffcourseinanegativeway?Ifanything,IshouldthankmyluckystarsCathadleftmewiththeBrennanswhenshedid.HellknewwhereI’dbeifshestuckaroundto“parent”me.
Forthefirsttime,asIsaunteredacrosstheshinymarblefloorsofAveburyCourtManoronmywayout,IwonderedifmaybetherewasanotherreasonwhyIenjoyedhatingGeraldsomuch.PerhapstheexcusetohatetheFitzpatricksandeverythingtheystoodforwasjusttoomuchtemptation.OrmaybeIalwayswantedtofuckCillianandHunterover—thesetwoboy-men,whohadeverythinghandedtothemonasilverplatterfromthemomenttheywerepushedintothisworld.
Istoppedbythedoor,shookmyhead,turnedaround,andmademywaybackintothehouse.IascendedthestairstoGeraldandJane’sroom.Janewasinherbed,sleepingsoundlyinthemiddleoftheday.AndbyasleepImeanknockedthefuckout.
Istrolledintohiswalk-incloset,tookasafetypinfrommypocket,unlockedhisjewelrybox,andwentstraightforthejackpot.ThethingIknewGeraldvaluedthemost.
TheFitzpatrickcufflinkshe’dinheritedfromhisdad.Seventh-generationFitzpatricks,madeofgoldandengravedbackinIreland,wherethefamilyhadnothingtotheirnameotherthanthesecufflinks.
Hispreciousheirlooms.Thecufflinkshe’drefusedtodonatetoalocalmuseuminBoston,helovedthemsomuch.Ipocketedthem,smiling.
“IputextracamerasaroundthehousetomakesureIamprotected.”
Nowhewassuretothinkthetraitorwaswithin.
Onmywayout,IspottedAislingparkinghermodestbluePriusbythefountain.Snowflakesgatheredoverherheadlikeacrown.
IcouldeasilyavoidherbygettingintomyPorscheanddrivingoff,butwherewouldbethefuninthat?
Shegotoutofhercarwearingscrubs,flippingmethebirdinonefluidmovement,somehowstillmanagingtolookgracefulasshestompedherwaytoherhouse.
“Nicescrubs.Shameyouonlyputthemonsoyourfamilybuysyourhospitalstory.”Ichuckled.Shefrozeforananosecondbeforeresumingherwalktothefrontdoor.
Imightnotknoweverydetailofhersecret,butIknewenoughtobeabletomakeherlifeverymiserableindeed.
Unsurprisingly,Imadeitapointtonotwantthingsthatdidn’twantme.Itwasagiven,consideringmylifeexperienceandhistory.AndAislingmayhavewantedme,butherfamilywasgoingtokeepusapartatanycost.NotthatitwasgoingtohelpthemifI,indeed,wantedAisling.Butasithappened,Irejectedthingsandpeoplewhothoughttheyweretoogoodforme.
“Haveaniceevening,MissFitzpatrick.”Itippedanimaginaryhatherway.
“BurninHell,Brennan.”
“Ifthere’saGod,that’sdefinitelyHisplanforme.”Iduckedmyhead,enteringmycar.
“Oh,thereisaGod,andtrustme,whenHegetsHishandsonyou,I’llbewaitingwithpopcorn.”
“UncleTham!CanIrideyou?”
Rooney,SailorandHunter’sdaughter,noteventhree,flungthedoortoTroyandSparrow’shouseopen,throwingherselfatmelikeamissile.Shewrappedherpudgyarmsaroundmylegthenproceededtocrawlherwayuptomytorsolikeaminisoldier,untilIscoopedher,tuckingherunderonearmandholdingherlikeshewasahelmet.IwaltzedinsidethehousewhereI’dspentmyteenageyears,kissingSailoronthecheekthenSparrow.
“Iwannarideyou.”Rooneygiggled,stilltuckedundermyarmasIexchangedpleasantrieswithmyadoptivemotherandsister.“Puh-lease.”
“Afterdinner,RoonLoon,”Isaid,messinghermaneoftangledredhair.ShelookedexactlylikeSailor,wholookedexactlylikeSparrow.Threegenerationsofhellionbanshees.Troyclappedmyshoulder,andHunterhandedmeabeer,whichItookwithmyfreehand.
“AuntieEmmabellesaysallthegirlsatyourclubrideyou,”Rooneycontinuedfromundermybicep,blinkingatmeinwonder.
“AuntieEmmabelleshouldhavehermouthstitchedshut.”IflashedSailoramenacinglook.
“IthoughtIwastheonlygirlwhocanrideyou.”Rooneywiggledfreeoutofmyhold,standingfrontofme.Withonehandfree,Ireachedforthetabletograbanappetizer,buthalfwaythrough,SailortuckedbabyXanderintomyarmsoshecouldtrytocollectRooney’shairintoaponytail.ItwasimpossibletoavoidchildrenintheBrennanhouseholdthesedays.
“Samuel,couldyoupleaseholdeitherthebabyorthebeer?Itdoesn’tlookgoodwhenyouhavebothinyourarms.Putonedownandhelpmeserve.”Sparrowwipedherhandswithakitchentowel,paddingtowardthekitchentocheckontheSundayroastshewasworkingon.Aweeklytradition.
“Yes,ma’am,”Isaid,puttingXanderinhisstrollerbythedoor,followingher.
IheardSailormuttering,“A-hole,”behindmyback.
“Iheardthat.”
“Youweremeantto!”ShetuggedatRooney’sponytailoutoffrustration.
Ileanedagainstthekitchenisland,watchingSparrowtakingoutbottlesofcabernetfromthewinefridgetogowiththeroast,pouringthesky-highYorkshirepudding,mashedsweetpotatoes,andbalsamicmushroomsintofancyservingbowls.
“There’ssomethingdifferentaboutyou,”Sparrowobserved,studyingmethroughhersharpgreeneyes.
“Differenthow?”Itookapullofmybeer.
“Different…pensive.”SheshovedtheYorkshirepuddingtrayintomyhands.“Putthisonthetable.”
Ididasshesaid.Imayhavebeenamurderer,anundergroundmobboss,andasavagewithnomoralstospeakof,butIwasalsowhippedtothebonewheremyadoptivemotherwasconcerned.
“I’mthesameusualshadeoffucked-upasI’vealwaysbeen,”Idrawled,reappearinginthekitchen.Shewasn’twrong,though.Ihadalotofshitonmyplatewithasideofdiarrheaandanappetizerofstalemanure.
TheRussiansinBrooklinewererunningamok,desperatelytryingtounshacklethemselvesfrommyclaws.OperationRuinGeraldwasinfullswing,andthentherewashislittlemonsterofadaughter,whodespiteeverythingrancirclesinmyhead.Icouldn’tstopthinkingaboutThanksgiving.ThemysterysurroundingAisling.
Sure,IcouldgetalltheanswersintheworldifIjustputsurveillanceonher,asIdidonsomanyotherpeopleinthecity,butthatwasadmittingdefeatandsuccumbingtotheideathatIgaveafuck,andIdidn’tgiveafuck.
Fuck,Igaveafuck.
Well,halfafuck.
DefinitelynotenoughofafucktofuckupmyentireworkingrelationshipwiththeBrennans,thatwasforsure.
SparrowpushedDijon-coveredBrusselssproutsandapileofsweetmashedpotatoesintomyhands.Iwentbacktothediningroomtounloadthefood.WhenIcameback,shecorneredmebetweenthefridgeandthekitchenisland.
“Areyousureit’snotaboutCat?”
“Positive.Andbytheway,buyingheratombstone?Dumbmove.Growafuckingspine,Spar.”
“Ihaveaspine.Ialsohaveasonwhoissodeeplyindenialabouthisfeelings,hecan’tseestraight.HaveyoueverheardofSelichot?”Shetried—andfailed—totuckhercrazygingercurlsbehindherear.
“No.”Ireachedtotheloosetendril,helpingher.
“Everyyear,practicingJewsrecitepenitentialpoemsandprayersleadingtotheHighHolidays.Thethirteenattributesofmercyareacentralthemethroughouttheseprayers.InsteadofgoingtoaCatholicconfession,theJewsgotothepeopletheyhavewrongedindividuallyandaskfortheirforgiveness.It’ssoulcleansing,theysay.Ihaveafeelingonedayyou’llwakeupandrealizeyouneedtoatone—toreceiveforgiveness—foryoursins.Ithinkthisdayisfastapproaching,andhavingatombstonetogovisitwillserveyouwell.”
“AskforforgivenessfromCat?”Istrokedmychin,pretendingtomullthisover.“Forgivenessforwhat?Beingthefastestspermwhowasunfortunateenoughtobumpintoheregg…orexpectinghertoperformhermotherlydutiesforthehalfsecondsheraisedme?”
“Forhatingher,”Sparrowsaid,hervoicesteady,herchinhigh.“Asoncannothatehismother.”
“Thisonecananddoes.Actually,it’snotevenhate.I’mindifferent,whichissomuchmorehumiliating.”
“NeutralmenaretheDevil’sallies.”Shesnatchedmyhandfromherface,squeezing,refusingtoletmego.
“TheDevilandIgetalongfine.”Ismirked,amusedbyherdisplayofemotions,archingoneeyebrow.“Anythingelse?”
“Whatareyounotindifferentabout?”shedemanded.
“Nothing.Nothingmatterstome.”
“Bull,meetshit,”shehissed.“Somethingisbotheringyou.”
“It’snoneofyourconcern.”
“Andit’snotyourseither,right?BigSamBrennandoesn’tcareaboutthings.Heisaboveemotions,”Sparrowpoked.Isawwhatshewastryingtodo.Makemetakeaction,pursuewhatIwanted,blahblahfuckingblah.
Theonlythingthatbuggedme,remotely,wastheNixthing,andIwasn’tgoingtopursueit.
KnowingwhatAislingdidforalivingwasn’tgoingtomakeanydifference.ThemoreIknewabouther,themoreIwantedtogettoknowher,andtherewasnopointinthatbecausesoonenough,Iwasgoingtokillherfather.
“Mom!”Sailorcalledfromthediningroom.“Hurryup,RoonLoonisstarving.”
Sparrowbrushedpastmebutnotbeforepinningmewithalook.
Dinnerwasuneventful.Huntertalkedshop,Troytalkedbasketballandfootball,andRooneytriedtosneakscrapsoffoodunderthetableforherimaginary,friendlymonster.Afterward,SailorandTroyserveddessertwhileIcrawledaroundonallfours.Rooneyrodeme,usingmyhairasreins,herlaughterrollingdownmyback.
Threehourslater,Iwasonmywaytothedooraftercompletingmyfamilialdutiesfortheweek.Sparrowgrabbedmyarmonmywayout—becausewhythefucknot?—andflashedmeanI’m-about-to-give-you-a-mouthful-and-there’s-jack-shit-you-can-do-about-itlook.
“Rememberourconversationthenightof?”
“Nightof?”Iaskedsardonically.
“Thenightyoumovedinwithuspermanently.”
ThenightCatfinallythrewmetothecurb.
“Whataboutit?”Itensed,evenafteralltheseyears.
“Itoldyouonedayawomanwasgoingtochangeyourmindaboutallwomen.”
Icockedmyhead,flashingherapitifullook.
“Youwerewrong.”
“I’mabouttoberight.Ihaveafeeling.Amotheralwayshasafeelingaboutherchildren.Iwaswatchingyoutodayand…”shestopped,squeezingmyarmtighter“…Idon’tknowhowtoexplainthis,butitisclose.Icouldfeelit.Butyouarefightingthis.Icantell.Youcan’trejectfate,Sam.Whateveritis,gotoher.”
Pettingherhead,Isaid,“ShebetterfuckinghopeIdon’tgotoherbecauseeverythingItouch,Iruin.”
Withthat,Igaveherapeckonthecheek,leavingwithaplayfulsmileonmyface.
NothingcouldstopmefromgettingwhatIwanted,andwhatIwantedwastodestroyGerald.
Notevenalike-mindedmonsterwitheyeslikejewels.
ItwasashortdistancefromSparrowandTroy’splacetomyapartmentblock.
Soshort,infact,aftertenminutesofdriving,IwasstartingtowonderwhythefuckIwasn’thomeyet.IlookedaroundandrealizedIwasheadingstraighttotheclinicwhereAislinghadoperatedonmysoldiersalittleoveraweekago.
God-fucking-dammit.
Thiswasn’tinmyplan,butIwasalreadyhalfwaythroughBoston,headingtowardDorchester,sotherewasnopointturningaroundnow.Besides,ithadnothingtodowithAisling.Iwasn’tinthehabitofnotknowingthingsaboutmyclientsandtheirfamilies.IfAislingwasuptosomethingstupid,Ihadtostopher.
IparkedinfrontoftheVictorianbuilding,surveyingit.
ItwasSundayevening,soitwasmostlikelyempty.Thenagain,itwasanundergroundclinic,sovisitinghoursmayvary.WhenIwassuretheplacewasdeserted,Igotoutofthecarandproceededtobreakin.Thefrontdoorwasembarrassinglyeasytotamperwith,andwhenIdescendedthestairstotheactualclinic,therewasasecondflimsydoorIonlyneededtoshakealittletopryopen.
Iwentforthethirddoor—thedoorleadingtothesurgicalroom,whereNixtreatedBeckerandAngus.Thisonewasabreeze,too.Onceinsideheroffice,Istartedthrowingdrawersopenandtooknoteofthemedicinetheykeptthere,typingthelongnamesofthemonmyphonesoIcouldconductadeeperresearchonceIgothome.
Icheckedeverypieceoffurniture,examinedeverynookandcorneruntilIhitthejackpot.
Thepatients’files.
Thefirsttelltalesignsomethingwaswrongwasthefacttherewasonlyonefolder.Yellowandrazorthin.Whatkindofcliniconlytooksixtosevenpatients?
Thekindthathasveryspecificrequirementstoacceptpeopleinthefirstplace
Ibeganflippingthroughthefiles,readingthepatients’records,theirtestresults,theirconsultationrecommendations.
Somethingdidn’taddup.Thedrugs.Thenumberofpatients.Thesetting.IknewaschemewhenIsawone,andthiswassofuckingfishyitgavetheAtlanticarunforitsmoney.Onethingwasforsure—whateverAislingdid,therewasagoodreasonwhyshewantedtokeepitasecretfromherfamilyandfriends.
Itwasn’tkosher.
Itwasn’tgood,orinnocent,orfittingfortheangelicFitzpatrick.TheMotherTeresaeveryoneknewandloved.
Ituckedthefolderbackintothecabinet.
Iwasright.
Shewasamonster.
Aterriblemonster.
Asweet,beautifulNix.
NowIjusthadtofindoutwhathersinswere.
ImadeapitstopatBadlandsandslippedintooneofthecardrooms,downingthreestiffdrinkstotaketheedgeoffwhatIsawattheclinic.Nixwasadoctor,allright,butshedidn’tworkatthehospitaloranyoftheregisteredclinicsaroundtown.Whatevershedid,itwassecretive,illegal,andhadnothingtodowithpeoplewithoutinsurance.
StopthinkingaboutNix.Sheisjustcollateral.
Collateralandaninconvenienceatbestandacomplicationatworse.
Ineededtogetmyheadoutofmyassandberiddenbysomeonewhowasn’tmyniece.Itwastimeforadiversion.Aremindertherewereotherpussiesoutthere.JustasgoodandwarmandtightasAisling’sandnothalfastroublesome.
Pent-uplust.
Thatwasallitwas.
Iwasabusymanrulingtheunderworldofoneoftheseediest,dirtiestplacesinthecountry.It’dbeenalong-asstimesinceIdrownedmyselfinawoman.Aislingwasthelast,andthewomanbeforeherhappenedsolongagoIforgothername,herhaircolor,andthesetting.
Agoodfuckwouldmakeallofthisgoaway.
Imoseyedoutofthecardroomandintotheclub,ignoringtheenthusiasticclapsonmybackandconversationstarters,andscannedthemassofsweaty,dancingfiguresmeldingtogether.Ipressedthetumblerofwhiskeytomylips.
Humansappalledme.
Despitemyreputation,Ididn’tjustfuckanythingwithapulse.Ihaddryspellsoftheself-inflictedkindsincefuckingultimatelyrequiredtalkingtopeople,andtalkingtopeoplewasapunishmentevenagoodpussywasn’tworthsometimes.
Therewerealwayswhores,whodidn’tdemandmeaningfulconversation,butIwasn’tafanofshovingmydickwheresomanyothershadbeen.
IimmediatelydecidedwhichwomanIwantedtospendthenightwith.Shehadbleachedblondehair,afaketan,longlegs,andapinkmini-dresssotackyremovingitfromherwouldbemyChristianduty.
Mostofall,shelookednothinglikeNix.
Isnappedmyfingersinthebouncers’direction,pointingather.
“I’llhavethatone,”Iclippedthenproceededtoturnaroundandgoupthestairstomyoffice,pastthecardrooms.
Inmyoffice,Ibusiedmyselfbyflippingthroughthebettingbooks,tuggingatmyhairandnotthinkingaboutNix.
Aknockonthedoormademedropthefatbookonmydesk.
“Open.”Isatback,sprawlingoutinmyexecutivechair.
Theblondepushedthedooropen,gigglingexcitedlyassheshutitbehindher,andpressedherbackagainstthebullet-chippedwood.
“Hi!I’mDani,”shesqueaked,tossingherhairtooneshoulder.“Yourbouncershowedmeup.It’smyfirsttimeatBadlands.Honestly,myfriendsare,like,kindoffreakingoutaboutallthis.Youcallingmehere,Imean.Weheardaboutyoualot,obvs.Butwedidn’tevenknowyoucametothisplace,likeoften…”
Itunedherout,focusingonhowherlipsmoved,fastandeager.Everythingaboutherwaswrongfromherjuicy,probablyenhancedlipstoherdefinitelypenciled-ineyebrows.Herfakeeyelasheslookedlikeashreddedsemitrailertire.Herheavymakeupanddryhairfullofsplitendsgratedonmynervesinawaythatfeltpersonal.Nothingaboutherfeltright.
Orgood.
Ordelectable.
Complex,dangerous,maddening
IwantedAisling.Aisling’sdemureness.Hersharplittlenoseandaristocratic,well-proportionedlips.Hernaturalhairandskinandteeth.Shedidn’tsuccumbtomodernbeautystandards,andtherewassomethingirresistibleaboutit.Aislinghadthatblue-bloodedlookofawomanyoucouldn’timagineonallfours,gettingfuckedroughanddirtyfrombehind.Menweresimplecreatures,sothatmeantitwaspreciselywhatIwantedtodo—plowintoherRoyalHighness,roughanddirty,frombehindwhileshechantedmyname.
Thegirlinfrontofmecontinuedblabbing.HellifIknewaboutwhat.Itoccurredtome,nowthatIlookedatherup-close,thatshewasyoung.Legal,yes,butmuchyoungerthanme.
“…kindofdownforanything,really.And,like,Iknowyouonlydocasual,sothat’stotallyokay—”
“Howoldareyou?”Icutintoherstreamofwords,alreadyinneedoftwofuckingAdvilsandonebullettoputmeoutofmymisery.
“What?”Shelookedstartled,herbrowneyeswideninginpanic.“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Yourage,”Ijeered,irritatedwithmyselfforapparentlygrowingafuckingconsciencesomewherebetweenAisling’sclinicandBadlands.“Whatisit?”
“Twenty…five?”
“Isthatafuckingquestion?”
“No…?”
“Thenwhydoyoukeepputtingquestionmarksafteryouranswers?”
Hergenerationwasgoingtorunthiscountryoneday.NofuckingwonderIhadafakeSwedishpassport,justincase.SayhellotoLudvigfuckingNilsson.
Sheblinkedslowly,likethiswasatest.Iwashalfsureshewasilliterate.
“ShowmeyourID.”Iopenedmypalm,stretchingmyarminherdirection.
“Thisisridiculous.”Shelaughed,herneckandearsturningpink.“I’mlegal!Everyonegetscardedhere.”
Noteveryone.Aislingdidn’tonHalloween,andnowmydickwantedasubscriptioncardtoherpussy.
NevermindthatIfiredthebastardwholetAislinginthefollowingday.
“YouhavefivesecondsbeforeIblacklistyou,”Isaiddryly.
“Fromtheclub?”Shesuckedinabreath.
“Fromthecity,”Icorrected.“YourID,Dani.”
SherummagedthroughherknockoffChanelpursewithahuff,producingherdriver’slicenseandslappingitovermypalm.Ilitacigaretteandsatback,rubbingmyforeheadasIstudiedit.
Twenty-two.
DanielleRondiskiwastwenty-two.
Apracticalbabyincomparisontome.
Still,legalenoughtodrink,tofuck,andtobehere.
ShewasalsoanaturalbrunettewithpastywhiteskinwhenthatphotowastakenbuthadsincegraduatedfromtheBimboAcademyandmorphedintowhatwasstandinginfrontofmerightnow,aninflatableversionofCharlotteMcKinney.
Iwhippedthecardbackather.“Getout.”
“Mr.Brennan…”
“Out.”
“Ageisjustanumber.”
“That’sthestupidestthingI’veeverheard.”Itried—andfailed—tofindtheconversationfrustrating.Truthwas,Iwasbored.Sofarfromtherealmsofanyotheremotion,Icouldn’tmusteritifItried.
Iwasn’tannoyed.IwashornyforsomethingIcouldn’tgetmyhandson,andtheboringwordscomingoutofhermouthwerekillingmyerection.
“Ifageisjustanumber,thentemperatureisjustanumber,too.Andmoney.Andcancerouscells.Andwarcasualties.Numbersareeverything.Numbersarewhatseparateslifefromdeath.Numbersrunthisworld.There’snojustaboutthem.Nowgetthefuckout.”
AftersendingDanionherwaywithmyRainManspeech,andcomingtotermswiththefactmydickandIwerebothgoingtobedlonelytonight,Igotintomycaranddrovetomyapartment.Myinstinctstoldmetheclusterfuckoftodaywasinfullswingandtoexpecttheworst.
Myinstinctswereneverwrong.
BecauseAislingfuckingFitzpatrickwaswaitingatmydoor.
Areward—orapunishment—fromKarma?
Herbackwaspressedagainstthewood,sittingcross-legged,headbentdown,thecoolglowofherphoneilluminatingtheplanesofherface.ShelookedupassoonasIsteppedoutoftheelevator,scramblingtoherfeet,smoothingherblack,conservativedressoverhercurves.Hercoatwasfoldedandrestedonherforearmneatly.
“Ioughttokillyou.”Ipushedpasthercallously,punchingthecodetomydoorandopeningitwithoutmakingamoveinside.
“Thatwouldn’tbeoutofcharacterforyou,”shemurmuredfrombehindme.“Whatdidn’tIdothistime?”
“Youcockblockedme.”
“Iwasn’tevenanywherenearyouallday!”sheprotested,thedelightinhervoicegivingheracheerylilt.
“Youdidn’thavetobe.ThePTSDoffuckingyouputmeoffthewholeconceptforlife.Congratulations.”
“That’swhyyouhadtofingermeagain,right?Justtomakesureitreallywasthathorriblethefirsttime,”shesassedback.
“Ifingeredyoutodenyyouanorgasm,notbecauseIwantedyou,”Ireplieddrily.
“Youreallyknowhowtowooagirl.NowonderIwasobsessedwithyou.”
“Was?”Iturnedaroundtoshootheradarksmile,myhandonthedoorhandle.“LastIchecked,youarestillrunningaftermelikeapuppyandeventookittothenextlevelandarenowshowingupatmyplace,creeper-style.”
“Youshowupatmyplaceallthetime,too.Idon’tcallyouacreeper.”
“That’sdifferent.Iworkwithyourfather.Icannotescapethesightofyou,nomatterhowmuchIwantto.”
Iwasreallyonarolltonight.AllIneededwasred-tippedhornsandtosacrificeababyortwotocompletemytransformationintoLucifer.
“Wherehaveyoubeen?”Shechangedthesubject,refusingtobeoffendedandorleavemyfuckingbuilding.
NowIdidfeelsomething.
Ifeltreadytostrangleher.
“Allowmetoansweryouwithyourfavoritegoddamnexpression:noneofyourbusiness.Howdidyoufindmyaddress?Donotsaynoneofyourbusiness,”Iwarned.
“Google.”
“Don’tlietome.”Iturnedtofaceher,curlingmyfingersoverherdelicateneckandgivingitasoftsqueezejusttoscareher.Herthroatbobbedwithaswallow,butshedidn’tbackdown.
Imisjudgedherallthoseyearsandhatedmyselfforjudgingabookbyitscover.Insidethatlaceyandelegantspineteemedchaos.
“Don’tasktoughquestions,”shesnappedback.
“Myaddressisuntraceable.”
“Well,Batman,Ithinkbothofusknowthatisn’ttrue.”Sherolledhereyes.“Canyouremoveyourfingersfrommyneck?I’dhatetotraumatizeyoufurtherwithskin-to-skincontact.”
OnlyahandfulofpeopleknewwhereIlived,andnotevenCillian,Devon,ormysoldierswereamongthem.Iwasanotoriouslyprivateperson.CamewiththeterritoryofdoingwhatIdidforaliving.TheonlypeoplewhohadmyaddresswereTroy,Sparrow,andSailor.
Sailor.
Mytraistor(traitorsister)must’vetalkedtoSparrowafterIleft,puttwoandtwotogether,andspontaneouslydecidedtobuttintomyshit.
MycatandmousegamewithAislingwasstartingtobecomeamultiplayergame,spinningoutofcontrol,anditwastimetoputastoptoitonceandforall.
IcouldconfrontheraboutwhatI’dfoundouttoday,tellherIbrokeintotheclinic,pressformoreanswers,butitwouldbeuseless.Shelookeddistraught,heronyxhairplasteredtohertemples,hereyesshinywithtears.Shewouldonlygoonthedefense,andIhatedfuckingliars.Theyremindedmeofmybiologicalmother.
Iremovedmyhandfromherthroat.
“Look,canIcomein?”Sherubbedatthecolumnofherneck,herpostureslackeningallofasudden,likeadeflatedballoon.ItdawnedonmemynotwantingtofuckDanihadnothingtodowithherageorabilitytoboremetothepointofaclinicalcomaandeverythingtodowithNix.
God-fucking-dammit.
“No,”Isaidflatly.
“Ireallyneedtotalktosomeone.”
“Isuggestyouturntoapersonwhocares.”
“Youdon’tcareaboutme?”sheasked,surpriseandhurtmarringhervoice.Wassheasleepthelastfuckingdecade?DidIcareaboutanyone,myselfincluded?No.Troy,Sparrow,andbigmouthedSailorweretheexception.IsupposedIcouldtossinRooneyandXandernow,too.Obviously,theyhadtheadvantageofnotbeingabletotalkfluentlyandthereforewereinlowdangerofpissingmeoff.
“Notevenalittle.Goaway.”
Shelickedherlips.“Ineedtovent.It’saboutmyparents.Everyoneelsehasahorseinthisrace.Mybrothers,Mother,andDa…evenmybestfriendsaremarriedtomysiblings,sotheycan’tbeclearheadedaboutit,”sheexplained.
Shehadapoint.
Furthermore,ifshehadimportantinformationaboutGerald,shecouldhelpmebringhimtohiskneesandgetaconfession.SowhileitwastruethatInever,underanycircumstances,broughtawomanovertomyapartment,itwastimetomakeanexception.Forher.
ForthefirsttimesinceImovedinbymyselfateighteen,Iopenedthedoorandletanotherpersonwhowasn’tSparroworTroyintomydomain.EvenmycleaningladyonlyhadthevaguestideawhereI’dlived.Shewasdrivenbackandforthfrommyplaceintinted-windowedcars.
“Fine.ButI’mnotgonnafuckyouagain,”Iwarned.
Icouldalwayscountonmypridetowinover,andAislingwasaconstantreminderofthefacttheFitzpatrickssawfittodobusinesswithmebutnotallowmetodatetheirdaughter.
“Well,that’sarelief.”Shesmiledpolitely,herchinbarelyquiveringasshetriedtocontainheremotions.“AndIpromisenottotrytoseduceyouagain.Now,shallwe?”
Aislingtookaseatontheplushblackleathercouch,spineerect,herhandsdemurelyrestinginherlap.
“MayIhavesomecoffee?”sheaskedshakily.
“WouldyoulikeafuckingfullEnglishbreakfastalongwithit?”Icockedaneyebrow,stillstandingup.“No,youcan’thavecoffee.”
“Ithinkwebothneedafewmomentstogatherourselvesbeforethisconversation.”
“Theonlypartofmeinneedofgatheringisgettingmycockintosomeone’smouth,andsinceIdon’twantyouanywherenearit,Isuggestyoucuttothechase.”
Weheldeachother’seyesforafewseconds.Shedidn’twaver.
“You’renotgoingtotalkuntilIgetyouacoffee,areyou?”Isuppressedagroan.
Sheshookherhead.“’Fraidnot.”
Reluctantly,Iwentintothekitchentomakeit.Itoccurredtomemidwaythejourneytothecounterthat:
One,Ididn’tknowhowtooperatethecoffeemachine;IalwaysgrabbedStarbucksonmywayoutinthemorningthenspenttherestofthedayloathingmyselfforconsumingburntcoffeethattastedlikeanoverflowingsewerwater,and—
Two,myhouse,myrules,mydrinkofchoice.
IgrabbedaMacallan18,pouredtwofingersintotwotumblers,andmademywaybacktothelivingroom.
Myapartmentwasneatlyandminimallydesigned.Bareconcretewalls,blackleathereverything,highbarstools,andchromeappliances.Notablymissingfrommyapartmentwereanypaintingsorpiecesofunneededfurniture.
AlsocurrentlymissingfrommyapartmentrightnowwasNix.
Ifrownedatthecoffeetable,confused.
Ilookedatthemassiveglassjarinthecenterofit.
OneofthebulletsIkeptinsidewasrollingonthefloor.Itbumpedintooneofthetable’slegs.
Shit.
Idroppedthewhiskey,boltingoutthedoor,catchingAislingpunchingtheelevator’sbuttonhysterically,hereyeswildlyscanninghersurroundings.Hercheekswerewet,andshewasshakingallover.Igrabbedherbythewristandtuggedhertowardme.
Whatthefuckhappened?Whywasshesoscared?
“Letmego!”sheyelled,tryingtoshakemeoff.“Comingherewasahugemistake.”
“Couldn’tagreewithyoumore.Yetyou’rehere,soyou’resureashellgoingtoseethisthrough.IknowtheFitzpatrickclanisusedtootherpeoplefinishingshitforthem,butthistimeyou’llhavetopullthrough.”Ihoistedherovermyshoulder,stompingbackintomyapartment,myfingersdiggingintothebackofherthighswithpossessivenessthatsurprisedanddisgustedme.
Sheisnotyourstokeep.
Sheistheenemy’sspawn.
Sheisthewomanyouarepaidtonevertouch.
Andsheisnotworththefuckingheadache.
“Letmeguess,thereisaperfectlygoodexplanationforthebullets,right?”Shechuckledbitterly,andIwasgladsheatleastdidn’tdothewholelet-me-downroutinewomenweresofondof.
“Thereis,”Iclipped,“butyouarenotgoingtolikeit.”
“I’mallears,”shesaid.
Islammedthedoorshutwithmyfootbehindus,plantingherbackonthecouchandsquattingbetweenherlegs,snatchinghergazeandhands.
“Youcalm?”
“Don’ttreatmelikeababy,”shesnapped.
“Don’tactlikeone,”Ideadpanned.
“Whydoyouhavebulletsinajar?Dozensofthem,noless.”
“WhydoyouthinkIdon’twantpeopletogetintomyapartment?”Iansweredherwithaquestion,mynewfoundtechniquecourtesyofDeidraorwhoeverthefuckIalmosthadsexwithatBadlandstonight.
“Evidence.”Herteethchattered,andshehuggedherself.
“ItakethebulletsoutofthepeopleIkillandkeepthem.”
Sam,youfuckingidiot.Anadmissiontothewomanwhosefatheryouareabouttoslaughterlikeasacrificiallamb.
Shestaredatmeinterrormixedwith…fascination?Ofcourse.Ikeptforgettingthatshe,too,wasamonster.Ipickedupthebulletshedroppedonthefloor,ignoringthescentofthewhiskeyasitsoakeditswaythroughthecarpet.
Iflippedthebullet,tappingitwithmyfinger.
“Seethis?M.V.?MervinVitelli.Iengravetheirinitials,soIdon’tforget.”
“Whydon’tyouwanttoforget?”Shefrowned.
BecauseifIstartforgettingallthepeopleIkill,nothingwillseparatemefromananimal,andIwillbecomearealmonster.
SoonenoughtherewouldbeabulletwithG.F.engravedonit,afactthatremindedmeIshouldputsomedistancebetweenAislingandme.Istoodupandwalkedbacktothekitchen,returningwiththeMacallanbottle—sanstumblersthistime.Itookaswigstraightfromthebottle,passingittoAisling.Iloweredmyselfintoareclineroppositeher,thecoffeetableservingasabarrierbetweenus.
Shetookasmallsipandwinced,handingitbacktome.
“Iknewyoukilledpeople,butit’sverydifferenttoactuallyseeproofofhowmanylivesyou’vetaken.”
“Thefirstoneisthemostmeaningfulone.Afterthat,takinglivesfeelsthesame.Likeasecondorthirdbiteofanicecreamcone.Ofcourse,itdoesn’thurttoknowthepeopleIkillarepiecesofshit,”Ireplied.
“I’mnotsosure,”shesaid,andbythewayherforeheadcreased,Icouldswearshewastalkingfromexperience.
“Youcameheretotalk.Talk,”Iordered,knockingthesideofhersensiblebootwithmyloafer.
Sheblinkedasshetookintheapartment,itsbarewallsandcoldnothingnessIsurroundedmyselfwith.Ilikeditthatway.ThelessIhad,thelessIbecameattachedtothings.Itwasanexpensivebrownstone,atthreemilliondollars,butdifferentfromAveburyCourtManor,whichwasladenwithpaintings,statues,andotherluxurioussymbolsofwealth.
Therewasnowheretohidehere.Itwasjustusandthewallsandtheunspokentruthsittingbetweenuslikeatickingtimebomb,waitingtoexplode.
“Mymotherwantstofilefordivorce.”Hervoicecracked.Shelookeddownward,hernecklikeabrokenflowerstem.
“Iknowitsoundsridiculoustoyou,”sherushedtoadd.“Afterall,it’sawell-knownfactmyparentshaveneverbeenfaithfultooneanother.TheirmarriageisconsideredashaminmostsocialcirclesofNewEngland.Butforme,itmeanssomething.Itmeansalot,actually.Growingup,IknewIhadthestabilityofAveburyCourtManor.EventhoughMotherandDaweren’tafunctionalcouple,theywerestillacoupleintheirownstrangeway.Believeitornot,Sam,theyworked.IknowI’mnotanimpressionableteenageranymoreandworsethingshappentotwenty-seven-year-olds.Somepeoplelosetheirparents,theirpartners,eventheirchildren,butIjustdon’tunderstand…”sheshookherhead,tearshangingonherlowerlashesfordearlife,refusingtofall“…howeverythingescalatedsoquickly.Onemomentwewereleadinganormallife—asnormalaslifecouldbeforus—andthenexteverythingexploded.TheprovocativepicturesofDaandthat…thatwomanmaterializingoutofnowhere,thepoisoning.Someoneistryingtoruinmyfather,andAthairthinksit’smymother.”
Istaredather,offeringnowordsofexplanationorencouragement.WhatcouldIsay?
Actually,nowthatyoumentionit,I’mbehindtheoperation.Janeismerelycollateraldamage.Bethankfulit’snotyouI’mthrowingunderthebus.Andbytheway,thisisn’teventhetipoftheiceberg,sobuckleup,sweetheart,becauseI’mabouttomakehimremortgageyourchildhoodhouseandbleedhimdryofhisbillions.
“Doyoureallyhavenolead?”sheasked,signalingmewithherhandtopassthebottle.
Idid,shakingmyhead.
Shesippedthebrownliquidlikeitwastea,returningthebottletome.“That’sweird.Youareusuallysoresourceful.Ican’trecallthelasttimeyoucouldn’thelpmyfamilywhenwegotourselvesintotrouble.”
Iwasmarginallyamusedbyherattempttotrickmeintoworkingharderonthecase.AcasethatI’dcreatedallbymyself.
“Patience,Nix.”
“Areyouapatientman?”
“Idon’tholdmyselftothesamestandardsIholdyouto.”
“That’sconvenient.”
“Ileadaconvenientlife.”Isalutedherwiththebottle,takingasip.“Anyway,lookatthebrightside.Twohouses.Twoparents.TwoChristmastrees.Twosetsofpresentsandsofuckingforth.”
“I’mnotakid.”Hereyesflaredwithrage.
Ielevatedabrow.“Yousureactlikeonewhereyourparentsareinvolved.”
“Whatwouldyoudoifyouwereinmyposition?”Hereyeszeroedinonmine,sharpallofasudden.
Lowermyselftomykneesandhaveyoutakemyballsinyourmouthagain.
“Letthemsortthisshitoutbythemselves.Theyaregrown-ups,andyouarenottheparent.You’rethekid.”
PerhapsbecauseIwasmorefocusedonAislingrecently,especiallyduringThanksgivingdinner,Icouldn’thelpbutnoticehowhermotherhadaskedAislingtopourherdrinksforherandjoinherinthebathroomtohelpherwithherzipper.Janedidn’ttreatAislingmuchbetterthanamaid.Icouldn’trememberwhenthatdynamichadstarted,andnowIwonderedwhetherIchosetoturnablindeyetoitallalongorIdidn’twantthefactstogetinmywayofseeingAislingasaspoiledbrat.
“Iamsortofmymother’sparent,”sheadmitted.“Shereliesonme…mentally.”
“That,tousethetechnicalterm,isfucked-up.”
“Maybe,butit’sthetruth.Mylifeis…notasprettyasitseemsfromtheoutside.”Shescrunchedhernose,reachingtopluckoneofthebulletsfromthejarandrolleditbetweenherfingers,examiningitsinitials.Sheputitback.Tookoutanotherone.Iresistedtheurgetolashoutather,tellherIwasnowgoingtohavetowipeherfingerprintsfromeachofthemindividually,incasesomeoneeverfoundthem.Icouldtellshewasclosetotearsandwantedtoavoidbecomingawailingwomanatallcosts.
IgrewupwithSparrowandSailor,twowomenwhoweren’tpronetodramatics.Infact,Icouldnotrecallthemcryingatall.Iwassureatearortwowasshedatfamilyfuneralsandsuch,buttheyhadalwayscarriedthemselveswiththequietstrengthofwomenwhoknewtheunderworldinsideandoutandruleditastheirunchallengedgoddesses.
UsuallywhenIheardwomencry,itwasinbedandforalltherightreasons.
“Boo-fucking-hoo,sweetheart.You’reyoung,beautiful,andrichenoughtobuyhappiness.Soyourparentsareabouttogetadivorceandhateeachother’sguts.Welcometothetwenty-firstcentury.YouareofficiallyjoiningfiftypercentofpeopleintheU.S.”
Ireallywasabottomlesssourceoffuckingsunshine,wasn’tI?ButtherewasnothingIcoulddotohelpher.Iwasn’tgoingtochangemyplanstospareherfeelings.
Nix’seyesnarrowedatme,butsurprisingly,shedidn’tlooklikeshewasabouttobawl.
“Mylifeisnotascharmedasyouthink,”sheinsisted,whisperinghotly.“Foronething,growingupIneversawreallove.Ahealthyrelationshipbetweenamanandawoman.AtleastyouhadSparrowandTroy.Mychildhoodwasanendlessstreamofarguments,objecttossing,andmyparentsdisappearingtoEuropeformonthsatatime,togetheroralone,leavingmewiththenannies.”
Istaredatherblankly,showinghershehardlymusteredenoughpityinmetoinspiremetogetupandgrabheraKleenex.
“ThenIlostsomeoneIreallycaredaboutwhenIwasseventeen,inapretty…brutalway.”Herthroatbobbedwithaswallow,andshelookedaround,uncomfortableallofasudden.Ididn’taskwhomitwas.
Rulenumberonewastonotgetattached.Itcloudedyourjudgment.
“Whatelsehaveyougotforme?”Iyawned,leaningback,makingashowofcheckingthetimeonmyphone.
“Myfirsttime…”Shehesitated,bitingdownonherlowerlip.Myinterestpiqued,andIfoundmyselfsittingupright.“Ilostmyvirginitytomyprofessor.”
“Howoldwashe?”
“Forty-one.”
“Andyou?”
“Nineteen.”
“That’s—”
“Disgusting?”Shesmiledsadly,hereyesshimmeringwithtearsagain.Iwasgoingtosayhotasfuck,butofcoursethatwasoutthewindownow.“Yeah,Iknow.Wannaknowthedisgustingpart?”
“IthoughtIalreadyknew.Hewasforty-one.”
Sheshotmeatiredsmile.
“Ifoundoutthreeweeksafterwestartedsleepingtogetherthathewasmarriedwithakid.See,hedidn’twearaweddingbandandlivedinanapartmentcomplexoncampus,alone.Helookedyoungandstylishandhungoutwiththestudentssooften…”shepickedacuticlearoundherfingernail,tuggingonitnervously“…Iwantedtolosemyvirginitytosomeonewithexperience,andIknewhehadit.Wecontinuedseeingeachotherafterwehadsex.Untilonedayhejustdisappearedintothinair.Stoppedansweringmycalls.Justgotupandleft.Hedidn’tevencompletetheacademicyear.Ineededsomesortofclosure,soIfoundhim.And,well,Ifoundoutwhyheleft.Becauseofme.Becausehiswife,whotaughtatanotheruniversitytwostatesaway,hadfoundoutanddraggedhimbackhomebytheear.WhenIfoundhisnewaddress,Imadethemistakeofdrivingdownthereandknockingonhisdoor.”
Badcall.ButIhadplentyoflifeexperience,andAislinglivedinaprotectivebubble.Ofcourseshewantedanswers,closure,andalltheothermumbojumboyoureadabout.
“Sheopenedthedoorandthrewthephonehe’dusedtocallme.Shestartedscreamingatmeinfrontoftheentireneighborhood,callingmeawhore,ahomewrecker,aspoiledbitch.Shesaidmymotherisaslut,thateveryoneinAmericaknowsoneofusdoesn’tbelongtoFitzpatrick,thenpromisedshewouldletallthehospitalsinBostonknowwhatIdid.Itwashumiliating.EspeciallysinceIneverknewthismanwasmarried.”
“Isthatwhyyounevertriedforahospitalhere?”Iasked.
Shebitdownonherlowerlip,pullingmoreandmoredeadskinfromthesideofherfingernail.“Partly.Maybe.Idon’tknow.It’snottheentirereason,anyway.Sincethen,Ilimitedmyinteractionwithmenevenmore.”
“Good,”Ideadpanned.“We’reallfuckers.”
Silencehungintheair.Iwantedhertoleave.Shewasn’tgoingtotellmeanythingaboutherparents’relationship,aboutGerald.Thiswaspointless.
“Tellmesomethingpersonal.”Sherestedhercheekonhershoulder.“Justonething,Sam.Itwillmakemefeelbetter.Please.”
“Aisling,it’stimeforyoutogo.”
“Why?”
“Becausethisisgoingnowherefast.Wefucked.Itwasamistake.It’stimeyoumoveon.Whateveryouthinkisgoingtohappen,Icanassureyouitwon’thappen.Idon’thaveasoul,oraheart,oraconscience.Wehadfun,yes,butwomenareallthesametome.Iwillneverchooseyouaboveallothers.IfyouthinklifewithGerryisanightmareforyourmother,imagineyourfatherathisworstandkeepgoing.Thatwouldbeme.”
Thatwaswhenitfinallyhappened.
Shefinallycriedinfrontofme.
Itwasjustonetear.Itrolleddownhercheek,flyingoffherchinlikeacliff,landingwithasplashonherknee.
“Goddammit,woman,”Ihissed,lookingaway,feeling…feeling.Itwasn’tabigfeeling,justalittlediscomfort,butIdidnotwanttoseehercry.
Onetime.
ThiswouldbetheoneandonlytimeIwasgoingtohumorthisinfuriatingwoman.Nomore.
Istoodup,snatchingthewhiskeybottlebyitsneckandtakingaswigasIbeganpacingtheroom.
“WhenIwasakid,beforeTroyandSparrowtookmein,backwhenIlivedwithCatandmygrandmother,wehadapaintinginourhouse.Justtheone.Itwasaverycheappainting.Afadedoldthingofacabinonalake—basicandnotverygood.Anyway,thepaintingwasinfrontofthebedinthemasterbedroom.Ithadthetendencytofallfromitsnailontotheflooreverytimethedoorcreakedorsomeonebreathedinthehouse.Catwastheonlypersonwithakeytothemasterbedroom,andshehadn’tfiguredoutI’dlearnedhowtopickalock.”
Istopped.Tookanotherswig.RealizedIwashalfwaydrunkandputthebottledownonthecoffeetable,noticingNixwasfingeringandtouchingmoreofthebulletsinthejar,breathingtheinitialsoutwithherlips.Likeshewasmourningthosepeopleorsomething.
“WhenIwasakid,Catusedtopunishmebystarvingme.Inordertodothat,shemadethespotunderherbedamakeshiftpantry.That’swhereshekeptallthefood.Condiments,chips,pretzels,ready-mademeals.Gramswasn’tstrongenoughtofightheronthis.Asyouknow,Iwasashittykid,soIwasvirtuallyinaconstantstateofpunishment.Thatmademeveryhungryandverysmallformyage.”
Shepinchedherlipstogether,andIcouldtellshewasabouttosobagain.ItmademefeellikefuckingBambi.Ididn’tneedanyone’spity.Irushedthroughthenextpart.
“Atsomepoint,IfiguredIcouldjustbreakintotheroomandgrabRamenorabagofchipsorsomething.AndIdid.Often.ButCathadthetendencytocomeinatthemostinconvenienttime.WhenIdidn’thavetimetorunawayfromherroom,Ihadtohideunderthebed,buriedbeneaththejunkfood.”
Ismiledbitterlyatthebareconcretewallinfrontofme,feelingAisling’seyesclingingtomyprofile,eagertohearmore.
“Catwasawhore,somoreoftenthannot,whenshecamehome,shewasn’talone.IstoppedcountingafterthefourthtimeIhadtosneakunderherbedandfeltthespringsofthemattressdiggingintomybackassomeonefuckedheraboveme.”
Aislinglookedaway,hissing,likemypainbledintoherbody.
“No,”shecroaked.
“Yes.”Ichangeddirection,walkingtowardher.“Ifelttheweightofmymother’ssins,figurativelyandliterally.Theyfuckedherovermyback.Againandagainandagain.WhileIshivered,dizzywithhunger,everymuscleinmybodystrainedsoIwouldn’tmakeasuddenmoveandmakemyselfknown.Mymostdistinctchildhoodmemoryisthatstupidpainting.Everytimetheheadboardhittheoppositewall,itwoulddrop,butnotfacedown,soIcouldalwaysseethecabinandthelakestaringrightbackatme,asiftheycaughtmered-handed.Wehadarelationship,thispaintingandI.Ifeltlikeitwastauntingme.Remindingmeofmyshittylife,andeverytimeIlookedatit,Icouldfeeltheblueandpurpledentsonmybackfromtherustybedspringsdiggingintomyskin.”
“Youdon’thaveanypaintings,”shesaidslowly,lookingaroundtheroom.
Itappedthebottomofmycigarettepackovermybicep,andonecigarettepoppedout.
Ifisheditbetweenmyteeth.“Nope.”
“Myhousemustbeverytriggeringforyou.”
Ichuckled,lightingupthecigarette.Isprawledbesideheronthecouch,carefulnottotouchher,exhalingatrailofsmoketotheceiling.
“Idon’thavetriggers.”
“Everyonehastriggers,”sheargued.
“Notme.Ilethatefesterandredirectitintoambition.Iwelcomemyweaknessesanddon’tshyawayfromthem.”
Sheleanedherheadagainstmyshoulder,pressingherpalmtomyheart.Ifroze.
Thiswasnew.
Andunsolicited.
Still,Ididn’tmove.Herhandonmefeltgood.Right.
“Isthiswhyyouhatewomen?”shewhispered.“BecauseCatwrongedyousomuch?”
“Idon’thatethem.Ijustdon’twantmuchtodowiththem,”Igroaned.
“Well,Iwantsomethingtodowithyou.”Shelookedup,blinkingatmewithowlisheyes.Ourgazesmet.Thethickhummingofourpulsesfilledtheair.Idrewawayfromher,pressingmythumbtoherlip.
“No.”Ismiledviciously,standingup.“Here.Yougotitoffofyourchest,andevengotalittlebonuswithmysobstory.Nowgetthefuckout,Nix.Anddon’tcomeback.”
“ButI—”
Shestarted,butIturnedaway,takingadragfrommycigaretteandlookingintheotherdirection.
Throughthefloor-to-ceilingwindow,Icouldseeherstandingup,dignified.Shemadeherwaytothedoor,herchinheldhigh,herbackstraight.Theminutesheclosedthedoorbehindher,Iletoutabreath,droppingthecigaretteintothehalf-emptywhiskeybottle.
Chargingtothebathroom,Iallbutkickedmyslacksdownmyknees,turningontheshowersprayandstumblinginsidebeforethewaterturnedfromcoldtohot.
Ibracedonearmoverthetiles,letthewaterpoundovermybody,andstartedjerkingoff—withmydressshirtstillon.
“Shit…”IhissedasIrubbedmycockmercilessly,pumpingfast.“Shit.Shit.Shit.”
Hermerepresenceinmyapartmentmademyballstighten.
IcameandIcameandIcameinsidemyfist.Liquid,whitegelcoatedmyfingers,andIwonderedwhenwasthelasttimeImasturbated.
ProbablywhenIwassixteen.
No,maybefifteen.
Fuckyou,Aisling.
Iplasteredmyforeheadagainstthetiles,groaningasthered-hotneedlesofwaterkeptlashingmyfaceandhair.Iwasn’thersavior,Iwashermonster.Theselate-nightcalls,mefollowingher,herseekingmeout…theyhadtostop.
BeforeIdidtoherwhatIdidtothatpainting.
BecauseIdidn’ttellherthewholestory.
YearsafterI’dmovedoutofCat’sapartment,Icameback.Paidtheowneralargesumofmoneytogetatouraroundtheplace.Ifoundthepainting.Thenewtenantshadn’tgottenridofit.Istoleit,burnedit,andtossedtheashesintheCharlesRiver.
Ididn’tknowhowtokeepthings.
Ionlyknewhowtobreakthem.
ItwastimetobreakAislingonceandforallandensureshewouldnever,everseekmeoutagain.

Stopchoosingwhatisn’tchoosingyou,moncheri,Ms.B’svoicerangbetweenmyearsasIburstoutofthedoorofSam’sbuildingonwobblylegs,theharshwhipofthewindslappingmycheeks.
Igaspedforair,butnoamountofaircouldsatisfymylungs.
Sam,Sam,Sam.
Broken,scarred,marred,imperfectSam.Moldedinthehandsofanabusivemother,amobsteradoptivefather,andaghostofabiologicaldadheknewtriedtokillhisadoptivemother.
IwrappedmycoataroundmywaistandjoggedtotheAstonMartinwaitingaroundthecornerfromSam’sbuilding,slippingintothepassengerseat.TheminuteIslidin,Igrabbedthethermoswaitingformethereandtookagreedygulpofcoffee.
“Well?”Cillianaskedfromthedriver’sseat,raisingaskepticeyebrow.
Hedidn’tbelieveSamhadanythingtodowithAthair.NeitherdidHunter.IcouldtellCillianwasnowlookingatme,tryingtoseeifIhadsexwithSam.Anytelltalesigntofindoutifwedidsomethingsordid.Puffylips.Flushedcheeks.
Mybrotherdidn’ttrustmenottothrowmyselfatSam.
Ishookmyhead.“Couldn’tfindanything,andhedidn’tvolunteeranyinformation.”
“Ofcourseyoucouldn’t.BecauseSamhasbetterthingstodowithhistimethantomesswithAthairfornoapparentreason.”
“Hewastheonlypersonatthetablecapableofpoisoningoneoftheguests.”
“Athairhadanoopsievisittothehospital.Givethatprettyheadofyoursarest,Ash.Samisinnocent—inthiscase,ofcourse.Ingeneral,heisprobablyresponsibleforeveryotherbadthingthathappenedinMassachusettssince1998.Caseclosed.”
WhenIsaidnothing,hegroaned,loweringhisheadonhisheadrest,closinghiseyes.
“Tellmeyou’lldropit.Ihaveenoughonmyplateasitis.Idon’tneedtoextinguishanotherfire.”
“Fine,”Ibitout.“Iwon’tsniffaroundhimanymore.”
“Promise?”heasked.
“Promise.”
Itwasstupid.Childish,really,butoldhabitsdiedhard,andIfoundmyselfcrossingmyfingersinmylaplikeakid,betweenthecreasesandfoldsofmydress.
Itwasfarfromover.
Sammightbeplayingme,butnowIwasplayinghim,too.
Iwasgoingtofindoutthetruthaboutwhathappenedwithmyparents.
IfitwasthelastthingIdid.
AweekhadpassedsinceI’dvisitedSam’sapartment.
Aweekofradiosilencefromhisend,andmybrotherstryingtheirhardesttorestoresomethingresemblingnormalcytoourhousehold.
TheyvisitedafterworkafewtimesaweektocheckinonDa,convincedthepoisoningwaseitherMother’sdoingorGerald’sunspokenmistake.
Iplayedalong,showeringMotherwithattention,watchingherwithhawkeyestoensureshedidn’ttrytoharmherself,butthetruthwas,somethinghadshiftedwithinme,rearrangingitselfintoadifferentshape.Iwasbeginningtochange,andIdidn’tknowhoworwhybutthepastfewweekshadalottodowithit.
Outwardly,Iwentthroughtheusualmotions.IcaughtupwithPersy,Belle,andSailoratanup-and-comingIndianrestaurantdowntown.IevenpretendedtomusteranamusedchucklewhenSailorfrownedatherphonewithalong-sufferingsighandshowedusapictureofCillian.“Thisishisversionofsendingmedickpics.”
“Butit’snotadick.”Persyhadblinked,notgettingit.
“Notananatomicalone,anyway,”Bellehadmurmured,tearingapieceofnaanbreadanddunkingitintoamintandmangodip.Persyhadprotesteduscallingherhusbandadick,butofcourseweallknewthathewas—toeveryonebuther.
Mothercontinuedmoaningabouthowhorriblemyfatherhadbeentoher,yeteverytimesheventuredoutofherdenandhehadtriedtospeaktoher,shewouldmakeasharpU-turnanddartbacktothemasterbedroom,leavingatrailoftearfulaccusationsechoingovertheopulenthallwaywallsinherwake.
Dawasstillsleepinginoneoftheguestrooms,floatinginandoutofitlikeaghost,hisdisheveledwhitehairstickingoutineverydirection,unshavenandhauntedbythestateofhismarriage.
Itdidn’thelpthathestartedgettingmysterious,crypticmessagesthreateningtodrainhissecretbankaccountsinSwitzerland—accountsthataccordingtoDanooneknewabout.
Thefirstcoupledaysafterthemessagesstartedpouringin,myfatherhadmadeitapointtoshower,getdressed,andgointohisoffice.Hehadlefthisdoorajarandsatthere,motionlessandquiet,waitingtohearmymother’sdoorflingingopensohecouldtalktoher.
Oncehe’drealizedMotherwastrulyuninterestedintalkingthingsthrough,hehadretreatedtohiscurrentstateofshambles,hardlyleavinghisownroom.
Andthat,Irealized,wasthedifferencebetweenthistimeandalltheothers.Normally,myparentsenteredthistango,adanceofsorts;itwasdifficulttofollowandonlytheyknewallthemovestoit.
Myfatherwouldscrewup,mymotherwouldgetmad,andhewouldwinherback.Snatchherintoalcovesinthehouseorstealherawaytothebutterflygarden,whisperingsweetnothingsintoherear.Hewouldcourther.Makeherfeeldesirable.Showerherwithgiftsandcompliments.Sendheatedlooksfromacrossthetableatdinnertime.Watchasshechippedbeforebreakingcompletelyandtakinghimback.Thenhe’dwhiskheroffonalengthyvacation,makeallthesepromisestheybothknewhecouldn’tkeep,andsupergluetheirrelationshipbacktogether,eventhoughithadchunksmissingandwashollowfromwithin.
Onlythistime,ithadn’tworked.Dahadbeenpoisoned.Heblamedmymother.Mybrotherssuspectedher,too.IguessMotherhaddecidedshe’dhadenoughandcutthemoutofherlife.SherefusedtoseeCillianandHunterwhenevertheyvisited.
Whichbroughtustowherewewerenow.
Totheannualcharityeventmymotherhosted.
“Aisling,couldyoubeadarlingandaskyourbrotherstogosayhitoMr.Arlington?Hemadesuchasubstantialdonationtoourcharitytonight,andIknowhe’sbeenvyingforCillian’sattentionforalongtime.Heneedsadviceabouthisnewoffshorecompany.”MotherelbowedmesharplyaswestoodintheballroomoftheBellmoor,aboutiquehotelintheWestEnd.
TheroomglimmeredinFrenchneoclassicalstyle—allcream,goldandornatechandeliers,andanInstagrammablestairwaywithgoldenrailings.
Gueststrickledinandout,drinkingchampagneandlaughingloudlyastheylookedfortheirdesignatedtables.Businesspeoplemingledwitheachother,themenintuxedoes,thewomeninelaborateballgowns.JaneFitzpatrickhadanimpeccabletrackrecordofthrowinglavishparties,fromdebutanteballstocharityevents,andthisonewasnodifferent,evenifsheknewherpeersneverquiterecoveredfromthelastheadlineherhusbandwasresponsiblefor.
MymotherwasthedirectorofTheBipolarAidAlliance,anonprofitcharitygroup,forwhichshethreweventsoften.Sheworeadignifiedgraydress,herhairpinnedupinabun.Wehadneverspokenaboutthefactshehadchosenthisparticularcharity,aboveallothers,togiveallherattentionandresourcesto,butIknewitwastelling.
I’dcometolearnnothingaboutmymother’sbehaviorwasaccidental.Shewasacalculatedwoman,andCillianandIinheritedthattraitfromher.
“Iwill,butfortherecordyou’llhavetotalktothematsomepoint,”Ichidedher,toyingwithmyvelvetgloves.
Shestuckhernoseintheair,examininghermanicuredfingernails.
“Haveto?Idoubtit.Ihavetospeaktomybankeratsomepointtosettleeverythingaheadofthedivorce.Andmylandscaper—therosebushesneedapropertrim.Oh,andcertainlymyhairstylist.Butmysons?ThereisnothingIneedfromthem.IfIwanttoseemygrandchildren,Icantalkdirectlytotheirwives.IwouldactuallypreferthatasSailorandPersephoneatleasttreatmeliketheirequalanddon’tbelieveIpoisonedmyownhusband.”
“Speakingofyourhusband,whatabouthim?”Iinquired,smoothingahandovermycap-sleeved,darkbluegown.“Willyoubetalkingtohimanytimeinthenextcentury,orareyougoingtospendtherestofyourlifedodginghim?”
“YourfatherandIseemtohavereachedaboilingpointaftersimmeringovertheedgeofdisasterfordecades.He’sbecomeparanoidandwrongfullymistrusting.Quitevulgar,seeingasI’mnottheonewhopopsintotheheadlineseveryfewmonthswithanewaffair.Ihatetosaythis,Aislingmydear,butwemighthavereachedtheendoftheroad.Idon’tseeuscomingbackfromthisparticularcrisis.”
“Well,thenIsuggestyouspeaktohimbeforeyouhandhimdivorcepapers.”Igrittedmyteeth.
“Hewon’tbelieveme.”
“Tryhim.”
“JusttellyourbrotherstodoasIsay,”Motherhuffed,likeIwasateenagerratherthanagrownwoman,wavingmeoff.
Iwasn’tanidiot.IknewpeopletreatedmelikeIwasyoungerthanmyyearsbecauseIletthem.BecauseIwasniceandtimidandagreeable.
Ishookmyhead,stompingovertoCillianandHunter,whostoodinaclusterwithothermen,smokingcigarsandtuttingloudlyaboutthenewtaxplan.
Youcouldtelltheydidn’twanttobehere.Normally,theytooktheirwivesanywhereworthgoing.IftheyleftSailorandPersephoneathome,itmeanttheyplannedanearlyexitandsparedtheirwivesofboredom.
Theystill,however,showeduptosupportmymother.Iwishedshecouldseethis.Howwealldidwhatwecouldtosupporther,evenifshebehavedlikeachild.
IstoppedbyHunterandCillian.
“MayIborrowyoutwoforamoment?”Ismiledpolitely.
“May?I’dpayyougoodmoneytogetmeoutofhere.Extraifyouagreetoputabulletinmyhead,”Hunterwhispered,takingastepawayfromthecirclejerkhewasengulfedin.Cillian,whohadmorefinessethanthat,threwanimpatientsmirkmyway,butstayedput,abevyofmenswarmingaroundhim.
“What’sgoingon?”Hunterasked,sippingbottledwater.Hebarelydrankalcohol,andwhenhedid,helimitedhimselftoonedrink.“Theparty’sinfullswingandthedonationboxisjam-packed.Don’ttellmetheoldbatfoundareasontobeunhappyagain.Letmeguess,theflowersarenotfreshenoughorsomeonefailedtocomplimentheronherdress—which,bytheway,makesherlooklikedrywall.”
Istompedonhisfoot,makinghimwinceandclutchhistoes.
“SheaskedifyoutwocouldintroduceyourselvestoMr.Arlington,rightoverthere.”Discreetly,Igesturedtoaplump,oldermansittingatatableacrosstheroom,enjoyingtheshrimpcocktailmuchmorethananyoneshouldenjoyashrimpcocktail,consideringitsfoultaste.“Hemadeasizabledonationandwouldliketoaskyouafewquestions.Offshorebusiness-related,Ibelieve.”
“SincewhendidIsignupforMotherpimpingmelikeIwasalow-gradecallgirlinneedofpettycash?”Cilliandrawledinhisusual,monotonevoice,sidesteppingawayfromthecrowdsurroundinghim.
Iturnedtolookathim,scowling.“Youneedtotakesomeoftheworkloadoffofme.I’mtheoneshemanagestwenty-four-seven.”
“Yourchoice,”Cillianpointedoutdryly.
“Speakingoffatchecks…”aslowgrinspreadoverHunter’schiseledface“…theDevilhimselfjustenteredtheballroom,andhebroughtanexpensive-lookingdate.”
Allheadssnappedtotheentrance,mineincluded,justintimetoseeSamuelBrennanwaltzinginthroughthedoubledoorswithatall,leggybrunette.Thetwodoormenbowedtothem.Samworeanimpeccablytailoredtux,andthewomanhadadeepgreen,low-cutsatingownthatmadehereyespopfromacrosstheroom.
Shewasobviouslyamodel.
AndIwasobviously—desperatelyjealous.
“Andhebroughtareplicaofoursister,noless,”Huntermuttered,squeezinghiswaterbottleuntilitsloshedoverhishandscomically,spillingalloverhisshoes.Cillianremainedsilent,hiseyesnarrowingonSam.
AmanIdidn’tknowsteppedinbetweenus,gesturingtoSamwithhischampagneflute.
“Theysayhekilledhisfirstvictimatthirteen.Undertheguidanceofhisadoptivefather,TroyBrennan.IworkedattheDA’sofficeatthetime.Readthepostmortemreport.Thedamageheinflictedwasfrightening.Youknow,weneverfoundthebulletheused.”
ThatwasbecauseSamkeptallofthem.
“Heismybrother-in-law,”Huntersaidthroughgrittedteeth.“Sounlessyouwishtoshareafatewiththatpoorcorpse,Isuggestyoutakeahike.”
“Oh…”Themanvisiblyrecoiled,wincing.“Ihadnoidea.Myapologies.”
Myeyesdidn’twaverfromSamandhisdate,notevenforasecond.Iclutchedmydrinktomychest,watchingthemmovetogether,armslinked,herhandplacedonhisforearm.Asifsensingmygaze,Samspunandturnedinourdirectionsharply,headingtowardus.Myheartwasinmythroat,andsomethinghotstirredinsidemystomach.
Inallthetimeshetauntedandprovokedmeovertheyears,andespeciallythelastweeks,he’dneverthrownotherwomeninmyfacebefore.
Thiswasanescalation.Anewstepinourscrewed-upgame.
HeknewI’dbehere.
KnewI’dhelpedMotherorganizethischarityevent.
Thiswasabluntincitement.
Designedtogetariseoutofme.
Toshowmehowmuchhedidn’tcare.
Samandthewomanstoppedinfrontofus.
“SawCongressmanWeismannheadingoutjustnow…”Samjerkedathumbbehindhisshoulder,speakingtomybrothersandthemalone“…yourmothermust’vepulledsomestringstogethimtoshowhisfacehereaftertheundocumentedhousekeeperscandal.”
“Iunderstandthatyouhavethemannersofasoileddiaper,butinculturedsociety,itisexpectedtointroduceyourdatetoyourfriends,whichiswhatyouwilldonow,”Cillianbitouticily,hiseyesglidingfromSamtohisdate.Therewasnoapprovalinthem.Mybrotheronlyhadeyesforhiswife,nomatterhowmanybeautifulwomenhadthrownthemselvesathisfeet.ButIcouldtellhewasunnervedbyhowalikemeandthewomaninfrontofuswere.
Hell,shecouldsenseit,too.Webotheyedeachothercuriouslyasiflookingthroughadistortedmirror.
“Gettingalittletouchy,Kill.”Samlookedmildlyentertained.“It’sjustawoman.Theymakeoverfiftypercentoftheworld’spopulation,lastIchecked.IsPersephonefailinginherdutiestokeepyouentertained?”
Thewomanshiftedonherheelsawkwardly,obviouslynotappreciatingbeingspokenaboutlikemysterymeatinadodgydelisandwich.Despiteeverything,Ifeltbadforher.Shewasaprop,andshedeservedmorethanwhateverSamhadinstoreforher.
“ThisisBecca…”Samgesturedtowardher,withoutlookingather,likeasalesmanexhibitingaflashycar“…Becca,thisisCillian,theCEOofRoyalPipelines,andHunter,mybrother-in-lawandtheheadofthePRdepartmentofthecompany.AndthisisAisling…”Hejerkedhischininmydirectionoffhandedly,thewayyouwouldthefamilydog.Alleyessnappedtome.“Sheistheiryoungersibling,ofundisclosedoccupation.I’msureitissomethinginteresting,butInevermusteredenoughinteresttofindout.”
“Aislingisadoctor,”Cilliansnapped.
“AndI’mMarieAntoinette.”Sambowedtheatrically.“Fancysomecake?”
“Thefirsttimeyouacknowledgemysister,andyoutalktoherlikesheistrash.”Hunterfrowned,gettingheated.“NowIrememberwhynoneofuswantedyouanywherenearher.”
“Hello.I’mrighthere!”Iwavedmyhandintheair,tryingtoseemunfazed.“Noneedtofightmybattlesforme.Also,Ithinkit’stimetouseyourrighttoremainsilent,Brennan.”Ibaredmyteeth,ragehummingbeneathmyskin.“Nothingthatcomesoutofyourmouthisworthlisteningtoanyway.”
Hedirectedhisgrayeyesatme,andtheysparkledwithopendelight.ThefirsttimeI’dseenhimhappysinceHalloween.Sincewesharedasordidnighttogether.
“IsitsharkweekfortheentireFitzpatrickclan?Ihearwomenwholivetogethergettheirperiodatthesametime.”
“Isuspectyoulostallrightstomakebloodjokeswithyourtrackrecord,Sam.”Iarchedaneyebrowinhisdirection.
Hethrewhisheadback,full-blownlaughingnow.
“Touché,Nix.”
Hunterdroppedhiswaterbottle.Cillianchokedonhiswhiskey.Everythingstopped,myheartincluded.
“Nix?”bothmybrothersaskedinunison.
ForthefirsttimesinceSamwalkedin,Iforcedmyselftocoolmyjets,interestedtoseehowhewasgoingtogetoutofit.BeccaoctopusedherarmsaroundSampossessively,therealizationthatshesteppedintosomethingbiggerthanhertricklingintohersystem.
Ismiledcoolly.
“Oh,dotellthemthestoryofhowIgotmynickname,Sam.It’sagoodone.”
Thecarnival.
Thekiss.
Theconfessions.
You’reamonsterandI’mamonster.We’rebothdemons,lookingforournextpoundofflesh.
AplatinumbulletcouldkillaNix,butno,yougavemegold.Youwantmealive,Brennan.Wellandcapableoffightingback.
BeccaclutchedtighterontoSam’sarm,treatinghimasahumanlifepreserver,notknowinghisjobwastomakepeopledrown.Shehadnotspokenawordsincesheenteredtheballroom,andIknewitwasn’taccidental.Hemust’vetoldhertokeephermouthshut.
Sam’ssilvereyesflashedwithmalice.“Yousureyouwantmetotellthem?”
“Now’snotthetimetoactchivalrous,”Cilliansnapped.“Aislingandyouhaveneverexchangedasmuchasasentence,yetyouhaveanicknameforher?You’regoingtohavetogivemeanexplanation,seeingasIpayyouextranottotouchmysister.”
Aballformedinmythroat,andIknewifIopenedmymouth,Iwouldscream.
Howdaremybrothersinterferewithmylovelife?
HowdaretheydictatewhoIcouldandcouldn’tsee?
AndhowpatheticwasIthatCillianhadnotroubleatallsayingthisrightinfrontofme?
IwasAisling.Sweet,angelicAisling.Thedoctor.Thenurturer.Thegoodone.
Beccalookedagonizinglyembarrassedasthepiecesofthepuzzlestartedfallingintoplace.Shetookastepsideways,awayfromSam.Hedidn’tevennotice.
SamturnedtolookatHunterandCillian,hisexpressiongrave.
“ItwasthefirsttimeIsawyoursister.AtdinnerwhenSailorandHunterstartedlivingtogether.”Uh-huh.Already,hewaslying.Thatwasn’tthefirsttimewe’dmet.“Iexcusedmyselftogotothebathroomjustasshegotoutofit.Herdresswasstuffedinsideherunderwearfrombehind,herassandlegsonfulldisplay.Itoldherthatsheneededtountuckherdress.Shecriedinhorrorandsaid,‘Oh,no,myknickers!’SheexplainedtomethatunderweararecalledknickersinBritishEnglish.Sincethen,IcallherNix,becausesheisagoofballwhocan’tdressproperly.Isn’tthatright,Nix?”Hewinked,flickingmynoselikesomeprotectivebigbrother.
Ifeltclosetonuclearexplosion.
Frustrated.
Humiliated.
Fuming.
Samstaredatme,waitingformetocallhimoutonhisbullshit.
“Sincewhendoyoudate?”Hunterchangedthetopic,obviouslyunamusedbySam’sstory.
“SinceIchangedmymindaboutmarriage.”
“Youchangedyourmindaboutmarriage?”Cilliansneeredathim,skepticismallbutleakingfromhiscoldgaze.Myolderbrotherplayedwiththegoldenbandofhisweddingringashespoke.“Riveting.Iclearlyrememberyougivingmeaone-hourspeechaboutthemeritsofstayingsingleshortlybeforeImarriedPersephone.ShouldIbillyouformylosttime?”
“Peoplechange.”Sam’seyesturnedintoslits.“Youshouldknowthatbetterthananyone.”
“People,yes.Monsters,no.”
“SoisBeccatheone?”Huntergoaded,andIwantedtothrowupallofasudden.BecauseSamwasexactlythekindofpsychopathtomarrysomeoneelsejusttospiteme.Iwouldn’tputitpasthim.Buyintotheideathathecouldbehappywithareplicaofmeandforgetabouttherealthing.
SamlookeddownatBecca,tuggingherclose.
“Ihopeso,”hewhispered,placingachastekisstohermouth.“ShehaseverythingIlookforinawoman.Beautiful,well-educated,andhonest.Bonuspoints:herfamilyisnotacompletemess.”
Jealousymadewaytoanger,andIgroaned,turningmybacktoSamandBecca,lookingdirectlyatHunterandCillian.
“Anyway,IdeliveredthemessageMothersentmeherefor.Dowithitwhatyouwill.Enjoyyourevening.”
Withthat,Istormedoff.IcouldfaintlyhearmybrotherscallingSamajackassbehindmyback,whichonlyservedtomakemefeelworse.Likeacharitycase.Asilly,na?vegirlincapableofstandingupforherselfinfrontofthebigbadwolf.
Ineverfeltapartofthemanyway.Cillian,Hunter,andSamhadtheirownfriendshipgoing,andPersephoneandSailorwereapartofitbecausetheywereapartofmybrothers.EmmabelleandIwerealwayspushedaside,associatedbutnotinitiatedintotheirpseudo-secretsociety.
Ispenttherestofthenightbeingtheperfectdaughtertomymother.Ilistenedtostalejokes,laughed,clutchedmypearlswheneverwasappropriateduringlongwinded,boringstories,tookpictureswithdonors,andevenintroducedmymotheronstagewhenitwastimeforhertodeliverherspeech.
NoonedaredtoaskwhereGeraldFitzpatrickwas.Notevenonesoul.Theunspokenassumptionwasthatmyparentsweregoingthroughsomething,astheyalwaysdid,andmostgueststhoughtnothingofit.ThiswassimplythewayJaneandGeraldFitzpatrickwere.
Onepieceofexpensivejewelryandavacationawayfromreconciliation.
Throughoutthenight,IrefusedtostealglancesatSamandBecca,nomatterhowhotthetemptationburnedinme.
Itwasunlikehimtostickaroundformorethantenminutesatacharityevent.
Itwasevenmoreunlikehimtoshowupwithadate.
Itwasobviousthiswasdesignedtotortureme,andIrefusedtogivehimthepleasureofagreeingtobetortured.
Finally,whentheclockhitmidnight,ItoldmymotherIwasheadinghome.
“Ihaveanearlyshifttomorrow.I’llcatchupwithyouinthemorning.Itwasalovelyevent.”Ikissedhercoldcheek,headingtothecloakroomtograbmycoat,clutchingthewrinkledtickettohandtheclerkinexchangeformyArmanijacket.WhenIreachedtheelaborateoakcounter,itwasempty.
Thedoorbehindwasclosed.
Merde
Ilookedaround,tryingtofindanavailablestaffmembertohelpmeout.Whennonewerefound,Idecidedtotakemattersintomyownhands.Iwasn’tgoingtostickaround,waitingtobecorneredbySamandBecca,likeasittingduck.Iroundedthecounterandflungthedoortothecloakroomopen,takingastepinside
Icametoahaltimmediately.
“Ohmygosh!”Iheardascreech.ItcamefromBecca’smouth.ThefirsttimeI’dheardhervoice.Shrillandnasally.Iblinkedawaymyshock,lettingthesceneinfrontofmeregister.
Beccawassplayedacrossamountainofcoatsandblazers,herdresspushedupherthighs—muchlikeminewasthatcursedHalloweennight—withSamstandingafewfeetfromher,ahandonhiszipper.Theheataroundmyeyessignaledtearswereontheirway,andIforcedmyselftoswallowthebilerisinginmythroat.
Youaretwenty-sevenyearsold.Don’tyoudarecry.
“My,my.Yougivetackyawholenewmeaning,don’tyou,Mr.Brennan.”Ipinchedmylips,fixingmyeyesonSam,carefultokeepBecca’snameoutofmymouth.NomatterhowmuchIdespisedherbyassociation,itwasn’therfault.“Youknow,Samuel,that’swhatseparatesthenouveaurichefromtruearistocrats.Yourimpartialnesstoknockoffs.Couldn’tgetyourhandsontherealthing,soyoudecidedtosettleforareplica.”Ismiledsweetly.
Iwasangryandsadandfeverishwiththeemotionscrawlinginsideme.
Iopenedmypurseandtookacondomoutofit—IalwayskeptonehandyforwhenBelleranoutanddecidedtoendthenightwithsomeonewhenwewentout—andflungitonthefloorinSam’sgeneraldirection.
“Didyoutellheryouhatewomen?Thatyoudon’twantchildren?Howmuchyouloatheyourself?Didsheseeyourapartment?Yourinside?Allyourdirtysecrets?”Iwasstillsmiling,butmyheartfeltlikeitwassoakedinmyownblood.Ihadonlyafewmoreprecioussecondsbeforetheystartedfalling.Becca’smouthhungopeninfascinationandhorror.
Ishrugged.“Yeah.Iguessnot.Awordtothewise…”Iturnedinherdirection“…run,don’twalk.Heistroubleandnotthetamablekind.Hewilluseyou,playyou,anddiscardyou.That’stheonlythingheknowshowtodo.Becausethat’swhatwasdonetohim.”
Ispunonmyheelsandranbacktotheballroom,tryingtofindaplacewhereIcouldcryalone.Breakdownandletitallout.Iheadedstraighttooneofthebalconies.Icouldseefrombehindtheglassdoorstheywereallempty.NoonewascrazyenoughtositoutsideonthecuspofChristmasinBoston.Notwillingly,anyway.Iflungopenthedoorandrantothestonebannister,clutchingitasIgasped,thefresh,coldairrushingintomylungslikeicewater.
Iheaved,lettingoutaferalgrowlthatechoedinsidemybody.
IlovedhimandIhatedhimandIloathedhimandIcravedhim.
Onethingwasforsure—Iwasclosetoquittinghim.
Hewantedmetoletgo,toturnmybackonhim,toforget,toleavehimjustlikeeveryotherwomaninhislife.EverywomanotherthanSparrow.AndIwasclosetogivinghimexactlywhathewasafter.
Icollapsedagainstthewidebannister,pressingmyforeheadagainstitscoolness,tryingtoregulatemybreathasIclosedmyeyes.
Breathe,moncheri.Heisjustaman.Abadoneatthat,Iheardhervoice.
Ididn’tknowhowmuchtimeI’dstayedthere,butwhenIfinallyturnedaroundtoleave,Isawhim.
Heblockedthedoorway,standingtherealone,hisbroadshouldersshieldingtheparty’sviewfrommeandviceversa.
“Areyoudone?”Hesoundedbored.
Ididn’tanswer.Ihadtoremindmyselfthismanwasabouttohavesexwithanotherwomanonlymomentsago.Maybehewentaheadanddiditanyway.
“Stepaside,”Isaidquietly.“Iwanttoleave.”
“You’reverypronetodramatics,knowthat,Nix?”Heignoredmywordscompletely,amblingtowardme.Hestoppedwhenwewereclose,tooclose,andgentlytuckedalockofhairbehindmyear.“Iamusedtowomenwhoarerougheraroundtheedges.Sparrow.Sailor.EvenCat.Theyhavemasculinestrengthaboutthem.Theyrefusetobepushedaroundandnevershedatear.”
“Cryingdoesn’tmakeyouweak,”Isaid,sniffingandturningawayfromhim.“Itjustmeansyou’reintouchwithyouremotions.”
Hecockedabrow.
“Ididn’tsayyouwereweak.Butyouareacomplexlittlething,andIneverknowifIgettheball-bustingversionofyouorthedocileonewhotrailsbehindhermotherlikeatoddler.”
“Thankyouforthepsychologicalassessment.Didyouenjoyyourrendezvouswithyourdate?”
Hetiltedhisheadsideways,studyingmeintently.“What’swiththeFrenchwords?Whynotsayhookupliketherestofmoderncivilization?”
Ishrugged.“MygovernesswasFrench.Itstuckwithme.”
“Youhadagoverness,”hesaid,notasaquestion.Rather,hemulledtheinformationover,filingitsomewhereinhishead.“Well,asithappens,Ididn’tenjoyBeccaatallbecauseyouscaredthelivingshitoutofher.Thisisnowthesecondfuckyou’vecostme,Nix.”
“Nixlikeknickers,right?”Irolledmyeyes,freshangercoursingthroughmyveins.
Hegrinned,lookinglikehewasinafantasticmood,whichmademehatehimevenmore.
Hepushedanotherwispofmyhairbehindmyear.“Ihadtothinkonmyfeet.”
“IthinkIshouldgo.”Iturnedtomakeabeelinebackintotheballroom,buthesteppedinthesamedirection,blockingmypath.
“No.”
“Sam,youhaveadatewaitinginside.”
“Sheleft.IcalledheranUber.”
“Youstillbroughtherhere.That’sthepoint.”Itookastepback,avoidinghistouchatallcosts.“Youstillparadedher.Flauntedher.Kissedherinthecloakroom.”
“Ididn’tkissher,”hegrowled,hismouthtwistinginannoyance.
“ButwhenIcameinyouwere—”
“Iskippedthatpart,”hequipped.“Thekissingpart.Iwantedyoutogetthegeneralpicture.”
“Well…”Ismiledsadly“…Igotit,allright.Missionaccomplished.Inowknowyouwillgotoextremelengthstopushmeaway.Wehavesuchafrighteningabilitytogetundereachother’sskinintheworst,mostterribleway.IthinkI’mfinallydonewithyou.”
Ididn’tnecessarilyspeakthetruth,butmywoundedpridewouldn’tletmeyieldtomyheart’sdesire.
Hesteppedforward,hisheatradiatingthroughme.Itookastepbacktowardthebannisters.
“WhydoIhaveafeelingyouareplayingme,Aisling?”heasked.
Low.Calmly.Deadly
Iswallowed,steppingbackwardforthemillionthtime.“WhosaidIwasn’t?”
“Yourdoe-like,please-don’t-eat-meeyes.ButI’mstartingtoseethere’smuchmoretoyouthanIinitiallythought.”
“Youropinionofmewasn’tveryhighinthefirstplace,sothat’snotsayingmuch.”
Iretreatedagain.Headvancedtowardme.Thisterribletangoofwills.
“IcheckedyourIRSfile.Youdon’thaveanincome.Whateveryoudoiseithervoluntaryorpaidunderthetable.Withyourfamilygoingthroughauditseverysingleyear,Idoubtyouarestupidenoughtomeddlewithmoney.”
“What?”Igasped,scandalized.“Howdareyou—”
“Easily.That’show.Nowit’syourturntoansweraquestion.Whatisitthatyoudointhisclinic,Nix?”
Ifeltmybackhittingtheedgeofthebannister,thestonediggingintomyspine.
Ilostmybalanceandtippedover,myarmsthrashingintheair.Mytorsoflewrightoverthebalcony,butSamgrabbedmebythewaist,theonlythingtokeepmesuspendedintheair,sixfloorsaboveground,fromsuredeath.
Athincrustoficecoveredthestone,makingitevenmoreslippery.
Myheartlurched,beatingwildlyandhysterically.
“Pullmeback!”Icriedout,myhandsdesperatelytryingtoclutchontohistux.“Please!”
Hedodgedmyattempts,pinningmywaistharderagainstthestonebutnotlettingmetouchanypartofhim.
“Idon’tthinkso,sweetheart.First,youowemeafewtruths.You’llstartbytellingmewhatyoudidoutsidemyapartmentaweekago.Becauselookingback,youcouldn’thavecometherejustbecauseyouneededashouldertocryon.”
“Idid!”Igasped,swallowingair.“I—”
“Youtookoneofmybullets,”hesnapped,looseninghisgriponmywaist.Mybodydangledbetweenlifeanddeath,hangingonthebalancebetweenhisfingersflutteringagainstmymiddle.
Hedidthisonpurpose.
Therealizationhitmemoreviolentlythananyslapwould.
Hecorneredme,mademewalkbackwardtotrytogetawayfromhim,andgotmerightwherehewantedme.Athismercy.NowhewasthreateningtokillmeifIdidn’ttellhimthetruth.
Theworstpartwashecouldgetawaywithit,too.Itwasgoingtolooklikeasureaccident.Ihadmorethanafewdrinksthroughoutthenight,andSamcouldeasilyslipoutofhereundetected.
“Letmego!”Iwheezed.
“Yousureaboutthat?”Iheardhisgravechuckle.Icouldn’tseeanythingotherthantheblackvelvetskyaboveme,thestarsshimmeringlikefairydust,watchingintentlytoseehowmynightplayedout.“Whydidyoutakethebullet,Nix?”
“Sam,please—”
“Answerme.”
“I’mscared,”Iwhispered,myvoicecoldandlow.
“Tellmethetruthandyou’llhavenoreasontobe.”
“BecauseIknewitwasfromthemanyoukilledatthecarnival!”Iscreamed,gettingitoutofmysystem.“Myobsessionwithyoustartedrightafterthatdamnedcarnival.Icheckedthenewstoseewhowaskilledthere,guessingcorrectlythatthey’dfoundthebody.Ifoundhisname—MasonKipling—andreadthathewasahumantraffickerwhohadbeenwantedbytheFBI.Iputtwoandtwotogether.Realizedyouhadsomebeefwiththeguy.WhenIsawthebullet,M.K.,Icouldn’thelpmyself.Itookit.Happy?”
Hewasquietforafewseconds.Iwasscaredhe’dgettiredofholdingmywaistandwouldletgo.Ashiverranthroughmybodyfromheadtotoe.Mytearsflewdownward,tricklingfrommyforehead,astheylandedsomewhereundertheballroom.Probablyintheemptyhotelpool.
“Nowtellmewhyyoucametomyapartment.”Hisvoicewassilkandleather,travelingovermyskinlikeawhip,promisingbothpainandpleasure.
“No.”
“Tellmewhatyoudointhatclinic.”
“No.”
“Aisling…”Hebegantoloosenhisgriponmywaistevenmore,andIsuckedinasharpbreath,tellingmyselfthathecouldn’t—wouldn’t—letmedie.NotbecausehehadaconsciencebutbecauseImeantsomethingtohim.
Thatwaswhyhecouldn’ttouchotherwomenandnotforlackoftrying.
Thatwaswhywekeptcomingbacktoeachotheroverandoveragain,drawntogetherlikemagnets.
Whateverwehad,itwasscrewed-upandpoisonousanddestructive,butitwasthere,anditwasours.Ithadapulseandabreathandasoul.
Wecouldn’twalkawayfromit,anditwastoolatetopretendasifnothinghappened,butatthesametime,webothhadnocluewheretogotofromhere.
“You’regoingtofall,”hewhispered,hishotbreathwaftingoverthecolumnofmythroat,causinggoosebumpstoriseonmyskin.Oninstinct,Iwrappedmylegsaroundhiswaist,mylimbseverywhere,foldingmyselfaroundhimlikeIwantedtoswallowhimwhole.
Mymouthfoundhisear.“Soareyou.I’llbetakingyouwithme,Monster.”
“I’mnotafraidoffalling,Nix.”Histeethdraggedalongmyneck,nibblingatthesensitivehollowalongmyshoulderblade.
“Yes,youare.That’swhyyou’retorturingme.That’swhyyou’rehere.”
Suddenly,hismouthwasonmine,hotandhungryanddemanding,andhepulledusbackward,stumblingunevenlyashepriedmymouthwithhistongue,thrustingitinsideharshly.Ikissedhimback,deepandraw,hisscentdrippingintomybody.Cigarettesandmanandexpensiveclothes.NotatraceofBeccainhissystem.Mymouthwasfullofhiskiss,andmybonesfeltbrittleandhotasImurmured,“NexttimeyoupullaBeccastuntonme,Iwillcutyourballsoff.”
“I’dliketoseeyoutry.”Hisfingersdugintomyassroughly,andImoaned,desperatelyrubbingagainsthiserection.“Fuck,”hegrowled.“Whycan’tIstayawayfromyou?”
Ilickedapathdownhisthroat,andheyankedmyheadbackbymyhair,pepperingtheedgeofmycleavagewithintoxicatingkisses.
“Youreallyneedtoquitsmoking.Yousmellhorrible,”Itaunted.
“Neverheardanycomplaintsbefore.”
“Theywereallscaredofyou.”Isuckedonhisthroatwhilehemauledtheedgeofmybreasts.Iwasdesperatetoleavealovebite.Tomakehimthinkofmetomorrowmorning.Andthemorningsafterthat.
Becausewhoknewwhenwouldbethenexttimewe’dseeeachother?Aweek?Twoweeks?Amonth?ForallIknew,Samcoulddieinoneofhisstreetfightstomorrow.ThiscouldbethelasttimeIsawhim,touchedhim,felthim.
Itwastrueforanypersonyouwereinlovewith,butespeciallyforSam,whichmadehimevenmoreprecioustome.Iwasalwaysonthevergeoflosinghim,andsometimesatnight,whenIthoughtaboutwhatkindofdangershewasexposedtooutthere,Icouldbarelybreathe.
“Noonewantstoputamirrortoyourfacebecausetheyknowyouwon’tlikewhatyouseethere.Everyoneisafraidofyourwrath,”Icontinued.
“Andyou?”Hepulledhislipsfrommybreasts,glaringatmeintensely.Wewerehiddenbythewallnexttotheglassdoor,butIknewweneededtostopthissoonerratherthanlaterbeforeanyonesawus.“Areyouscaredofme?”
“Iwasnevertrulyscaredofyou.”Irolledmythumbalonghisjaw,feelingblushcreepingtomycheeks.“NotwhenIwasseventeenandnotadecadelater.Tomeyou’llalwaysbebeautifullymisunderstood.AndmaybeI’manidiottocare,Sam.Infact,Iprobablyam,butIstillwantyoutoquitsmokingbecauseIwantyoutogrowoldandgrayandbehealthy.EvenifIcanneverhaveyou.”
Hiseyesnarrowedandsomethingpassedbetweenus.Ishuddereduncontrollablyinhisarms,likehe’dmanagedtoputsomethinginsidemewiththisonelook.
“Aisling,I—”Samstarted.
Ablood-chillingshriekpiercedthroughtheballroomjustthen,makinghimstopmidsentence,followedbyacommotion,thesoundofbreakingglass,andhystericalcrying.
“Someonecall9-1-1!”
“Weneedanambulance!”
“Oh,dearGod!What’shappening?”
IbrokefreefromSam’sarms.Webothrushedintotheballroom.
IstoppeddeadwhenIrealizedwhatthespectaclewasallabout.
Inthemiddleoftheroomwasmyfather,GeraldFitzpatrick,dressedinhisflannelpajamasandahouserobe,lookinglikeahomelesspersonwithhishairwildandhiseyesbloodshot.Heheldmymotherbythethroat,shakingher,lookingdrunkandoutoffocus,infrontofanaudienceconsistingofthecleaningcrew,waitresses,andafewoddguestswhostillhadn’tleft.
“Thefamilyheirloom!”heraged.“Whereisit,Jane?Tellmenow.Iknowthatit’syouwhostoleit.Youwhosentthosethreateningletters.”
Mymotherfaintedinhisarms,justasmybrothersjumpedintopryhimawayfromher.

CilliandraggedakickingandscreamingGeraldoffofJanewhileHunterscoopedhislimpmotherinhisarms,shoulderingpastpeopleasherushedheroutofthelimelight.
BritishClarkKent,AKADevonWhitehall,appearedoutofnowhere,makingabeelinestraighttothedoors,havingsecurityclosethemashedemandedthestafftodisposeoftheirphonessohecoulddeleteanysensitivematerialthatmightbeleaked.Thenighthadtaperedoffandonlyahandfulofguestsandthecleaningcrewremained.
Aislingtremblednexttomelikealeaf,watchingherfamilygodowninflames.
GeraldhadfinallyrealizedthecufflinksItookweremissing,andhewasblamingJaneforit.
Hissanitywasevaporatingintothinair,alongwithhiscommonsense.
Thecrazyhair.Thepajamasandrobe.Thedrasticweightloss.Thedrunkenness.
Inpublic.
Iimaginedhehadhisdriverbringhimin,mumblingincoherentlythewholewayhere.PoorassholewasprobablygoingtogetfiredbyJane.
Hewasonthefasttracktooblivion.Everythingwasgoingaccordingtoplan.
Atsomepoint,Aislingsneakedawayfromnexttome,catchingCillian’ssteps,pushingGeraldoutoftheballroomwhilepeoplearoundthemgossipedandgasped.
Herfacewastightwithemotions,hereyesglassywithconcern.
Suddenly,Igrappledwithafeelingcompletelyforeigntome.Ineverfeltitbefore,soIcouldn’texactlypinpointwhatitwas.Itwasamixtureofnauseaanddreadwithsomeangerthrownintothemix.
HadIbeenpoisoned?
Funny,becauseIcouldn’tfindtwofuckstogiveaboutCillianandHuntercrappingbricksrightnow,evenifIlookedforsaidfuckswithasearchunit.Icouldn’tbringmyselftocareaboutBecca,forthatmatter,whowascurrentlytuckedinanUber,headingbacktowherever-the-hellshecamefrom,probablycursingmeallthewaytonextTuesdayforbailingonherassassoonasAislingshowedupinthecloakroom.
Guilt.
Thatwaswhatwasseepingitswaythroughmelikepoison.
Afterallthistime,andallthesinsI’dcommitted,ithadfinallywormeditswaythroughmyexterior.
Itwasnew.
Anditfeltlikeshit
Atthesametime,Iknewbackingdownwasn’tanoption.Notlikethis.Notrightnow.Geraldhadruinedmylife.Hehadtopay.
Hekilledmyfuckingunbornbrother.
Drovemymotheraway.
Thenhadmedoallhisdirtywork—hisarmbending,hisillegaldabbling—allwhilethrowinginfatbonusestomakesureIdidn’ttouchandsullyhispreciousprincess.
“Giveusaridehome.”Someoneclappedmyshoulderfrombehind.WhenIturnedaroundtoinformthemIwasn’tafuckingUberdriver,IwassurprisedtoseeTroyandSparrow,handinhand.
“Didn’tknowyouwerehere.”
Troytuckedhisfreehandintohisfrontpocket,glancingaroundtheapocalypticsceneinfrontofuswithindifference.
“Gotheretenminutesagofromdinnerwithfriendsjusttodropoffthecheck.Westayedfortheentertainment.Ourtaxidriverhasleft.”
Sparrowsmackedwet,lipstick-stainedkissesonbothmycheeks.Shestopped,hoveringaninchovermymouth,smellingAisling.Aprivatesmirkmarredherface.
“Noheavypettinginthebackseat,”Iquipped,takingoutmycarkeysandflippingtheminmyhand.
“Can’tpromiseanything,”Troydeadpanned.
“Well,Ican.I’llpushyououtonthehighwaywithoutevenblinking,”Iremindedhim,meaningeveryword.Ihatedpublicdisplaysofaffection.“Yourwife,I’llspare.”
Inthecar,Troyaskedfromthepassengerseat,“So,whenareyougoingtoquityourblood-thirstyvendetta?”
Myeyesflickedtotherearviewmirror,searchingforSparrow’sreaction.Shesatinthebackseat,lookingatmepointedlywithoutofferingherwords.
Didsheknow?Ofcourseshedid.Fuckertoldherthearomaandfrequencyofhisfarts,nottomentionallofhissecrets.Minetoo.
“I’llstopwhenhecomesclean.”
“Thatmightneverhappen,”Troypointedout.
“ThenImightneverstop,”Ivolleyedback.
“Areyouplanningtokillhim?”
IopenedmymouthtosayyesbutstoppedshortwhenIthoughtaboutAisling.
Herunexplainableloveforhershittyparentsgratedonmynerves.DevelopingsentimentsforpeoplejustbecausetheygaveyoutheirshittyDNAwasaconceptIwouldneverunderstand.Isettledforabrash,“Idon’tknow.”
“That’safirst,smartass,”Troygroaned.
“Huh?”
“You.Notknowingshit.You’vealwaysbeenlikethis.”Troysatback,strokinghischin,half-entertained.“Tookwhatyouwanted,evenifyouhadtosettheworldonfireintheprocess.”
“It’scalledbeingago-getter.Notabadthing,”Ipointedout,stoppinginfrontoftheirplaceandkillingtheengine.
“Thatdependsonhowyoulookatit,”Sparrowofferedfrombehind.“Itmightbeaverybadthingforyou.”
“Cuttheriddles,Dr.Seuss.”Iturnedaround,scowlingather.“Ifyouhavesomethingtosay,sayit,andbefastaboutit.Ioutgrewtonightaboutthreedaysago.”
“Whatyourmotherissaying,andyouaretoostubborntocomprehend,”Troygroundoutslowly,theedgeofhistonewarningmenottogivehiswifelip,“isthatwhatyouwantmightendupnotwantingyoubackifyouslaughtereverythingonyourwaytogettoit.”
“Doyouknowwhatyouwant?”Sparrowleanedforward,herfacealmosttouchingmine,hergreeneyesdarkandintense.
“Yes,”Ihissedslowly,holdinghergaze.“Iwantyoubothtofuckoff.”
“No,Sam.Youthinkyouwantrevenge.Butwhatyouwant…”shetrailedoff,shakingherhead“…whatyoureallywantiscompletelydifferent.”
“EvenifIwantedthethingsyouthinkIwant,gettingthemwouldruineverything.I’mamonster,”Igrowled,feelingtheinvisiblechaintomyresolvetightening,readytosnap,unleashingallmypent-upanger.
Sparrowpalmedmycheek,flashingmeasadsmile.“Ifamonstercanbemade,itcanbeunmade,too.Goodnight,mydarlingboy.”Shekissedmynoseandslidoutofthecar.
Troyfollowedher.
Forafewseconds,itwasjustmeandthecarandthesilence,punctuatedbythewailsofanambulanceagoodfewyardsaway.
ThenIstartedlaughing.
Agood,deeplaugh.
Onethatrumbledthroughmywholebody.
“Idon’twantAisling,youfools.”Ikickedmycarintodrive.“ButIwillhaveher.”
ItwastimetotakewhatAislinghadofferedmesofreely.
First,IwouldhavewhatI’ddeprivedmyselfofforsolong.AnAmericanPrincess.
ThenIwouldruinherfather.
Itwouldpisshimoffmoreanyway.
“Heisgone!”Motherburstthroughmybedroomdoor,lookinglikeademonrightoutofahorrorflick—asecondbeforeitcrawleditswayoutofapond.“Histhingsaregone.Suits.Clothes.Laptops.Briefcase.Theonlythingheleftishisweddingband,thebastard!”
Isatuprightinmybed,rubbingthesleepfrommyeyes.Theworldblurredintofocusslowly.ItwasaThursday.Afewdaysafterthecharityball.Dahadn’tbeenbackinthehousesince.HestayedwithCillianandPersephoneuntilthingscooleddown.Orsowethoughtuntilthreesecondsago.
“Mother,I—”
“Ididn’tdoit!”shehowled,poundingafistagainstherchest.“Youbelieveme,don’tyou?Itwasn’tme.Iswear.Notthepoisoning.Notthecufflinks.Imean,heavens,Aisling,webothknowhowobsessedheiswiththosecufflinks.Iwouldnever!”
“Ibelieveyou,”Isaidandmeantit.Igotoutofthebed,stilldizzy,andwalkedovertoher,puttingahandonhershoulderandrubbingslowly.“ButI’mgoingtoneedsometimetogettothebottomofallthis.Okay?”
“Youmusthelpme,Aisling.Youmust.”Shedroppeddowntoherknees,huggingmymidsection.Istaredatherindisbeliefmixedwithannoyance.I’dneverseenhersodesperateinmylife.Iwasgrowingmoreandmoresuspicious,especiallyafterthecufflinks,thatwhoeverwasdoingthiswantedtohurtmyfatherspecifically,notmyparentsasaunit.Butintheirquesttoruinmyfather’slife,theyalsoterrorizedmymother,whowasbeyondfrailandbrittleandalreadyhadherowndemonstobattle.
Justafewweeksago,Ifoundfreshcutsaboveherwrists.
“Getup,Mother.”Ipattedherheadawkwardly,glancingaroundtoensurewedidn’thaveanaudience.Shefoldedintotwo,doublingdownbycollapsingonthefloor.
“Ican’t,”shewailed.“Oh,Aisling,thisissuchanightmare.Ineedsomethingformynerves.”Sheclutchedmybaretoes,andIfelthertearswettingthem.Mystomachturnedandtwisted.Iwantedtorunaway.
“I’mnotprescribingyouanything,Mother.I’mnotapsychiatrist.Youneedtoseeaprofessionalwhowillassessyou.Besides,youshouldadoptsomecopingmechanisms.Badthingshappentoeveryone.Lifeisaboutrisingtotheoccasion,anyoccasion.Thinkoflifeasagarden.Youdon’tchoosewheretobeplanted,butyoucanonlychoosewhethertobloomorwither.”
“Ohbut,Ash,itishardtobloominthestorm.AllIneedisalittlepick-me-up.Ievenhavealistofthingsthatmighthelp.It’srighthere.”Shemessedwiththepocketofhernightgown,producingawrinkledpaperandhandingittome.
Iscannedthelist,mybloodturningcold.
“That’salotofpills.Someofthemarestrong.Zoloft.Prozac…youcannotmixthemtogether,andyoudefinitelycan’tconsumealcoholifyoutakeanyofthem.”
Thensomethinghadoccurredtome.Somethingthatmademewanttothrowup.Itwasperfectlypossibleshehadalreadytakenthem.Becauseallthosethingswereprescribedtosomanyofherbored,housewifefriends,andtheyalllovedtoexchangepillslikeitwassomesortofahobby.Ifsheaskedforthem,itmightbebecauseshewantedmoreofthem.
“Youhaven’ttakenany,haveyou?”
Shesniffedbutdidn’tsayanything.Isteppedback,shakingheroffofmyfeet
“Forgoodness’sake,Mother!”
“Justgetmethemedicinesandgettothebottomofthis.”Janethrewherselfoverthecarpetpathetically,veryintentionallywipinghersnotoverit.
ForonebriefmomentIforgavemyself.
ForgavemyselfforbeingsoweakwhenitcametoSamBrennan,forgoingtotheschoolsmyparentschoseforme,andforneverquitestandingupformyself.Notwithmyfriends,notwithmybrothers,andnotwithmyfamily.
Itwasobviousmyrolemodelathomewasn’texactlyMarieCurie.Secretly,IwonderedwhatIwouldhavebeenlikeifIwereraisedbyanyoneelse.Bysomeonestrong.AwomanlikeSparrow,whowasterrifyinglydirectandalwaysmadeheropinionknownpubliclyabouteverymatter.
IredirectedmythoughtsquicklywhenIfeltangerflaringinmychest.Therewasnotimeforthat.
Hurryingtowardthecloset,IjammedmyfeetintothescrubsIdidn’tneed,forajobthatwasalietopleasemyparents.
Forthefirsttime,Iwonderedwhatitwouldfeelliketoliveinmyownplace.AnapartmentwhereIcouldgetprecioussleepingtimebetweenshiftsatworkwithoutdrawingmymotherbathsandlisteningtohercomplainaboutmyfather.Whereshewouldn’tthreatentocutherselftogetbackatmefornotgivingherenoughattention.
“Ineedtogettowork.Pleasegetyourselfintheshowerandbrushyourhair.Maybegoonawalkorseefriends.Youneedtostarttakingcareofyourself,Mother.Iwon’tlivehereforever.”Ibeganbuttoningmypeacoatovermyscrubs
“Noonehasaskedyouto!”Sheshotmeahostilelookfromthefloor,pouting.“Andgo,whydon’tyou.GowhenIneedyou.Justdon’tcomecryingatmygravewhenyouloseme.”
Thisoldtuneagain.
DothisandthisandthatorelseIwilltakemyownlife.
Sheneedshelp,moncheri,andmaybeyouarenottheplacesheshouldgetitfrom.
“I’mcallingyourpsychiatristassoonasIgettowork,”Iannouncedtoher.Sheneveragreedtoseehim.Saidheneverprescribedherthedrugsshewanted.
“Youcanbemean,youknow?”Shestaredatmyceilingnumbly,zoningout.“Justlikeyourfather.”
“I’mnotmean.”Isighed,grabbingmybackpack.“ButIamtired.”
Shesaidsomethingelse,butIdidn’thearher.Iwalkedawaybeforeshecouldconvincemetostay.Totendtoher.Togivemyselfupforher.
Onmywaytotheclinic,IcalledoneofourtrustedhousekeepersandaskedhertokeepaneyeonMother,knowingIwaspayinglipserviceformyconscience.
Samwasright.Atwenty-seven-year-oldwomanhadnobusinesslivingwithherparentsifshecouldaffordherownplace.
Itwastimetospreadmywings.
EvenandespeciallybecauseJaneFitzpatrickkeptthemcarefullyclipped.
Itwasaquietdayattheclinic.Fullofconsultations,paperwork,andresearch.Nomajordecisionsweremade,whichwasalwaysgoodnews.
IsawMrs.Martinezagainforacheckupandacceptedanewpatient,asixty-eight-year-oldmansofragilehehadtobecarrieddownstairsintotheclinicinDr.Doyle’sarms.
Whenitwastimetocloseshop,Dr.Doyle—atall,sixty-somethingmanwhoboreanuncannysimilaritytoPierceBrosnan—pattedmyshoulder.
“Youknow,Aisling,you’reabrilliantyoungdoctor.Youshouldfindaresidencyandstartnextyear.Tellyourfutureemployeryoutookagapyeartospendsometimewithyourfamilyortodosometraveling.Thisclinicisnoplaceforsomeoneaspromisingasyou.”
“Ilikeworkinghere.”IclosedMrs.Martinez’sfileaftermakingvaguenotes.Icouldn’twriteanythingtoospecificoutoffearthisplacewouldbefound.Ituckedthedocumentinthefilingcabinet.“We’vealreadybeenthroughthis,Greg.YouknowwhyI’mdoingthis.Thisismycalling.”
“AndIappreciateyourlifeexperiencehasbroughtyouhere.Ican’thelpbutfeelguilty,too…”heleanedagainstthewall,crossinghisarmsoverhischest“…suchmedicaltalentshouldn’tbewastedinsomeunderground,illegalclinic.YouareaHarvardgraduate,Fitzpatrick.Topofthecrop.”
“Howlonghaveyoufeltthisway?”Ifrownedathim,clearingupthetable.
“Longenough,”hegrumbled.
Iswalloweduncomfortably.Ihatedchange,andifIdidn’tworkhere,thatwouldbeoneheckofachange.
“Pleasedon’tshackleyourselfinunearnedguilt.Youaremuchtoopragmaticforthat.”Istoodup,pattinghischeekwithasmileonmywaytothebathroombeforegoinghome.Frommyperiphery,Dr.Doyleglancedathiswristwatch.Iclosedthedoorbehindmeinthebathroom.
“We’lltalkaboutitsomeothertime,”hedetermined.
“Fine,butifyouthinkyou’regettingridofmesoeasily,youhaveanotherthingcoming,Greg,”Ispokeinasingsong.“Closetheplaceup?”
Ineededtogocheckonmymother.Asperusual,shegavemethesilenttreatmentafterwhathappenedthismorningandrefusedtotakemycalls.
“Actually,Ihavetorun.Apatientjustpagedme.Mindlockingupbeforeyouleave?”hecalledouttome.
“Notatall!”Iansweredfromtherestroom.“Goahead.It’sbeenamoonandahalfsinceIclosedshop.”
Fiveminuteslater,Ifoundmyselfscrubbingmedicalequipmentcleanandlockingupcabinets.
Iheardaknockontheclinic’sdoor.
Whoonearth…?
Forobviousreasons,wedidn’tallowwalk-ins.
Frowning,Iwalkedovertothedoorandlookedthroughthepeephole.
Merde.
Iquicklysmoothedmyscrubsovermybody,rearrangingmylongponytail.
Still,Ididn’topenthedoor.Ididn’tbreathe.Ididn’tmove.
Goaway.Please.Youaretoomuchandnotenoughallatthesametime.
“Toolate,Nix.Iknowyou’reinthere.Yourcarisparkeddirectlyinfrontofthedoorway.”
Doublemerde.Ihadnoonebutmyselftoblameformylackofdiscretion.
Still,Ididn’tmove.IwatchedthroughthepeepholeasSambracedonearmoverthedoorframe,sneeringdownatthefloorliketheyweresharingasecret.
“Wecandothisthenicewayorthenot-so-niceway.Butyoushouldknow,mynot-so-nicewaysincludesmashingdoorsdown,rummagingthroughplaces,anddoingverydangerousfuckingthings.”
“Gotohell.”
“Can’t.Satanhasarestrainingorderagainstme.Nowopenthedamndoor.”
“Ihateyou,”Igroaned,plasteringmyforeheadtothedoor,closingmyeyes.
“No,youdon’t.”
“Ishould.”
“Nofuckingshit,Sherlock.Openup.”
Reluctantly,IdidasIwastold,steppingaside.Therewasnopointblockinghiswaywithallonehundredandtwentypoundsofme.
Westaredateachother,thethresholdbetweenuslikeanoceanneitherofuswaswillingtocross.Myheartbeatwildly.
Hediditagain.Hecametoseeme.Soughtmeout.
“Youkillpeople,”hesaidsoftly.
Igasped,stumblingbackward.Hesteppedforward,walkingintotheclinic,notbotheringtoclosethedoorbehindhim.
“Ifinallyfigureditout.Eventhoughitwasinfrontofmeallthistime,inplainsight.Youkillpeople.That’swhatyoudo.Mercykilling.Euthanasia.”
Mybackbumpedagainsttheoppositewall,andIsqueezedmyeyesshutchildishly.MaybeifIpretendedhewasn’tthere,he’ddisappear.Butno.Hisvoicehoveredaroundme,thickeningtheair,makingittoohottobreathe.
“That’swhyyoulimityourselftoveryfewpatients.That’swhyit’sanundergroundoperation.That’swhyyoukeepallthedrugsyouhaveinhere.That’swhyyoutreatthemattheirhomes.Itallmakessense.You’renotheretocurepeople,you’reheretokillthem.Theonlyquestioniswhy?Whyareyou,thesweet,caringAislingFitzpatrick,doingthis?YourbrothersalwaystoldmeyouwantedtobeanOB-GYNorapediatrician.Somethingwithbabiesinvolved,theysaid.Theexactoppositeofwhatyouturnedouttobe.”
Myeyesflutteredopenontheirownaccord,andImethisgaze.Imagesofmymotherearlierthismorningspreadovermybedroomcarpet,helplesslybawling,attackedmymemory.Ididn’twanttobeher.Meekandweakandalwayshidingherrealselffromtheworld.Istraightenedmyback,takingadeepbreath.
Butoldhabitsdiehard…
“Youcan’tproveit.”
“Idon’tneedto.You’lltellmeyourtruth.”
“Whileyou’rekeepingsomanysecretsfromme?”Ichokedonmybitterness,spluttering,“Nicetry.Whyareyouhere,Sam?”
Hisjawticked,buthesaidnothing.
“Ifindithardtobelievemyjobmeanssomuchtoyou.WhetherIcureorkillpeople,itmakesnodifferencetoyou.Youowemenothing,andyourjobisnottowatchoverme.Infact,itistheveryopposite—tostayawayfromme.Sowhyareyoupushingthis?”
Hisnostrilsflared.Hetookmyfaceinhisroughpalm,tiltingmyheadsoourmouthswerealigned.
“Idon’tfuckingknow,Aisling.Ihavenoideawhatkeepsbringingmebacktoyou,butIcan’tseemtostop,andyoudon’tseemtomind,solet’sjustgetthisoutofoursystemandfuckalready.”
Thenextthinghappenedlikeasnakebite.Suddenandfastandviolent.
Ikissedhimroughly,thistimetakingwhatIwantedinsteadofwaitingforit.Ourkissmademefeellikewewerelashingoutateachother.Samcaughtmylowerlipbetweenhisteethandtuggedmeclosertohim,untiltherewasnomorespacebetweenus.Hehoistedmeupandcarriedmeintotheexaminationroom,kickingthedooropenandspreadingmeflatoverthetable,kissingmeasItoedoffmyworksneakersandunbuttonedhisshirt.
Therewasnothingromanticorcalculatedaboutwhatweweredoing.Webothjustneededtobephysicallyconnectedassoonaspossible.Itriedtotellmyselfthatitwasfine.Thatnoonehadbeenontheexaminationtableanyway.Itwasmoreforshow.IncasetheplacewasdiscoveredandDr.DoyleandIneededtogivethepolicesomeplausibleexplanation.Treatingpeoplewithoutinsuranceundergroundwasn’thalfasfrighteningaswhatweweretryingtohide.
Sam’stongueranfrommylips,downtomychin,headingsouthtomyneck,lickingapathbetweenmytits.Hecuppedoneofmybreastsinhismouththroughmyshirt,groaningashepushedmypantsdown,swirlinghistonguearoundmyerectnipple.
“Goddammit,”hemuttered,suckingmywholebreastintohismouth.
Ishuddered.Somethingaboutthefacttherewasfabricandasportsbrabetweenusmadetheactsomuchdirtieranderotic.Ithreadedmyfingersthroughhishair—hisbody,hardandimposing,pressingagainstmineeverywhere—ashemovedtomyotherbreast,givingitthesametreatment.
Whenmypantsandunderwearweregone,andIwassittingontheexaminationtablenakedfromthewaistdown,Sampushedmeroughlytoliedown,usingonehandtoprymythighsopenandspreadthemaswideashecould.
“Isincerelyhopeyoudon’tintendtoaskmetostop.”
Ishookmyhead.“No.Don’tstop.”
“Youknow,growingup,Ineverplayedkiddiegames.Igraduatedfromformulatogunswithoutapitstopattoycarsandpuzzles.”Hismouthwasswollenfromourfilthykisses,andhegrinnedatme,hisfingersonmyhipbonesasheplasteredmetothecold,metallictable.
“Wanttoplaydoctorandpatient?”Iquicklycaughthisdrift.
Iwouldn’tbetonit,butIsworehischeekspinkedslightly.
“Allright.Openupforme,Nix.”Hisfingersskimmedtheirwayfrommyinnerthightomycenter.Iclappedahandoverhiswrist,shakingmyheadwithatauntingsmile.
“Gloveupfirst,Doc.Firstdraweronyourleft.”
Hepaused,thenhisfacebrokeintoaterriblesmile.Terriblebecauseitwasthefirstgenuine,giddy,hopefulsmileI’dseenonSam’sfaceinthedecadeI’dknownhim—andhowawfulwasthat?
Samreturnedinapairofmylatexglovesthatweretightaroundhismassivepalms.Inodded,satisfied.
“I’mnewatthis,”hefeignedanapology,hisgrinturningsinisteragain,“soyou’llhavetoexcusemeinadvanceasIconductthispapsmear,MissFitzpatrick.”
“Please,callmeNix.”
“Sorry,Idon’ttreatKnicksfans,”hedeadpanned.
Ibitdownonmylip,suppressingwildlaughter.Ididn’tknowmanymenwhoknewaboutpapsmears,letalonehowtoconductone.Iletthehairinmyponytailspillovertheedgeoftheexaminingtable,blinkingathiminnocently.
“Mynamehasnothingtodowiththebasketballteam.It’safteranenticingfemalemonster.Doesthatputyouatease?”
“Definitely.”
Tomysurprise,Samwasn’tcompletelyoff.HesettledhimselfbetweenmylegsandpushedmeopensowideIfeltthedeliciouspainofbeingstretchedtomylimit.
“Youmightexperiencesomediscomforthere,”hegroaned,pushingtwofingersdeepintomycore.Iclenchedontothemimmediately,lettingoutasoftmoan,rollingmyhipstomeetmoreofhishand.
“MissFitzpatrick,”hetsked,“controlyourself,please.”
“S-sorry,”Imumbled,half-openingmyeyestowatchashepulledhishandaway,onlytodriveitinagain,thistimeusingthreefingers,curlingthemupwarduntilhehitmyG-spot,hisfreehandstillstretchingmewideopen.
“Oh!”Icried.
“Stillcan’tgettothatrightangle.Bettertryagain.”
Hethrustagain,fuckingmewithhisfingers—withhisentirefist,almost—inandout,inandout.Ilaythereonmybackandtookit,wetandturnedonlikeIhadneverbeeninmyentirelife,chantinghisnameundermybreath,notcaringifheknewhowmuchofagonerIwasforhim.
“H-howdidyoulearnhowtodothis?”Iasked,buckingmyhipsupward.EverytimeIdid,hepinnedmywaistdown,hiswayoftellingmetobehaveashefingeredme.“Youlooklikeyouknowwhatyou’redoing.”
“Gotacceptedtopremedafterhighschool.”
Iletoutapiercinglaughatthat,butwhenIlookedup,heseemedcompletelysober.
“You’reserious.”Mysmiledropped,andIfeltthecloyingfeelingofanorgasmtinglingthroughme.Hedidn’teventouchmyclit,andIalwaysneededclitoralstimulationtocome.Huh
“Deadfuckingserious.”Hesentmeanonchalantsmirkashefuckedmewithonehandandspreadmewiththeother.
“Youthoughtaboutbecomingadoctor?”Iwheezed.
“Hellno.ImadeabetwithafriendIcouldgetintopremed.Didn’tstudyforiteither.ButIreadagynecologybookononeofmytrainridestoNewYorkCitywhileattendinganarmsdealandgotthegistofit.”
Ihadamillionquestionstoaskhim,butallofthemhadtowaitasmyclimaxwashedoverme,shakingmetothecoreandmakingmecryout,graspingontotheedgesoftheexaminationtable.
“Alwayssodramatic,”Sammuttered.InsteadofgettingontopofmelikeIthoughthewould,hegrabbedmebytheankles,tuggingmeuntilmyassperchedontheedgeofthetable.
“Sorry,MissFitzpatrick,butIcouldn’tfindwhatIneeded.Thismightbealittleunorthodox,butIthinkIknowhowtofinishthisexam.”
Iwasallbonelessdesireandsatisfaction.Icouldn’tevenliftmyheadtoseewhathewasdoingbeforehesquatteddownbetweenmylegs,histonguefindingmyclitandswirlingarounditslowly,teasingly,puttingdeliciouspressureonit.IgrabbedhishairandgroanedsoloudIthankedmyluckystarsDr.Doylewasn’tupstairsinhisapartmentbecauseIcouldprobablybeheardinneighboringcities.
“Merde,”Ipanted.
“Ifuckingloveitwhenyousaythat,”hemurmuredbetweenmylegs,andIfeltthewetnessofmecoatingmyinnerthighsandhisfaceashebegantoeatmeout,literally.
Eat.Me.Out.
Nibbledandbitandlickedmethoroughly.Myeyesrolledbackinsidetheirsockets,thepleasuresopoignant,sointense,theoxygenrattledinmylungs.Iwasclosetoasecond,violentorgasm,Icouldn’thelpbutbuckmygroin,thrustingitintohisface.
“Please.Ohhhhh.”
Istoppedbreathing,everymuscleinmybodyclenchingasintensepleasurecoursedoverme.Ireachedthehighestpointoflapetitemort—myownlittledeath,astheFrenchreferredtoanorgasm—justwhenIfelthimplungingintome,heavyandthickandlong,inonesmoothmovement.
Iwasdrenched,hotandreadyforhim.
MyeyesopenedandIsawhimleaningagainsttheexaminationtable,betweenmylegs,whileIwasfulltothehiltwithhiserection.Heclosedhiseyesandhissed,thepleasuretoomuchforbothofus,ashebegantomoveinsideme.
“Foundwhatyouwerelookingfor?”Icroaked,referringtohisso-calledpapsmear.
Hethrustintomewithapunishingrhythm.“Andthensome.”
Somethingabouthismovements,sosure,sononchalantlypunishing,toldmethathewasusedtogettingwhathewantednotonlyoutsideofthebedroombutinsideit,too.
“Ican’tbelieveI’mfuckingyouagain.”Heshookhishead,frowningatme.
“Believeit.”Myheartpoundedloudandwildly.“BecauseIdoubtyoucandothiswithanyoneelseatthispoint.”
“Shutup.”
“Youknowit’strue.That’swhyyoucouldn’thavesexwiththatwomanattheball,wholookedexactlylikeme.Youknowwhatyouwant,Sam?Youjustdon’twanttotakeitbecausetheconsequenceswouldmeanyou’dlosemydaddy’sfatpaycheck.”
“Idon’tgiveafuckaboutyourdaddy.”Heplowedintomeangrily.Ididn’tthinkanyonehadeverbeenthatdeepinsideofme.
“Thenwhatisit?Pleasedon’ttellmeyouactuallyconvincedyourselfyouarebadforme.Youdon’thaveaconscience,andIcanmakemyowndecisions.”
“Shut.Up.”
“Makeme.”Iblewaraspberry.Forasecond,hestoppedthrustingandjuststoodstillbetweenmylegs,buriedinsideme.Theninoneswiftmotion,heremovedthelatexglovesfromhishands,balledthemtogether,andshovedthemintomymouth,myjuicesstillonthem.Mymouthfilledwiththebittertasteoflatexandtheearthinessofmyself.
“There.That’sbetter.”Heresumedhisthrusts.“NeverhaveIfuckedamoreinfuriatingcreature.”
“Furrryerrr,”Iofferedaroundtheballofgloves.
“Yes,sweetheart,that’sexactlywhatI’mdoing.Fuckingyou.”
Hewasclose.Icouldfeelit.Thewayhisfingerstightenedaroundmythighs,pushingthemoutward.Thewayhisexpressionbecamelessguardedandmoresurprisedlikehe,too,couldn’tbelieveitwassogood.
“Areyouonthepill?”heasked,mid-thrust.
Itriedansweringaroundthegloves,butmyvoicewasmuffled,andhecouldn’tcatchthatI’dsaid,“Yes,Iwas,sinceIwasfifteen.”
“Nevermind.”Hepushedinandoutwithjerkymovements.“Evenifyouaren’t,youaregoingtotakethemorningafterpill.AmIclear?”
ThepleasureandplayfulnessIfeltjustsecondsagoturnedintoangeragain.Hecameinsideme,holdingmylegsstillashisfacetightened.Icouldfeelhiswarmcummakingitswayinsidemybody.Ispattheglovesoutontothefloor,roaringwithfury,swingingmybodyupright.Ipushedhimoffofme,kickinghimforgoodmeasure.Hebarelymoved—justenoughtoletmestandupfully—alreadytuckinghimselfin.
“Getout.”Ipointedatthedoor.“Now.Anddon’tcomeback.”
Hestaredatmewithamusement,slowlyrearranginghimself,buttoninghisslacks,removingacigarettefromhispack.
“Lightenup,Nix.Iheardyouwhenyousaidyouwereonthepill.Ijustliketoseeyougettingpissy.”
“Well,congratulations,yousucceeded.Youthinkit’sokaytotellawomanwhattodowithherbody?”
“Dependsonthewoman.”Heshrugged.
“Out!”Iyelled,loudernow.
Helithiscigarette.Anotherthingthatbotheredme.HeknewIhatedwhenhesmoked.Istompedtothedoor,flingingitopenalltheway.
“Out!”
“Orwhat?”Hegrinnedaroundthecigarette.“You’llcallthepolicetocomeandpickmeupfromyourunregistereddeathclinic,Nix?”
“OrIwilltellmybrothersyou’vescrewedtheirbabysistertwicenow,despitegetting…oh,whatisit,anextramillionjusttostayawayfromme?”Iblinkedslowly,asugarysmileonmyface.
Samsnorted,movingtowardthedoorwithdeliberateleisuredesignedtodrivemenuts.
“Don’tcomenearmeagain,”Ibitout.
“Thatwon’tbeaproblem.”
Andjustlikethat,hewasdone.
Leavingmeahalf-nakedmess,smearedinourtruthsandliesandallthethingswecouldn’ttalkabout.
Myhearthalf-brokenbutheldinhisbloodiedhands.
AfewdayshadpassedsinceIscrewedAislingatherdeathclinic.
Iwassickasadogandwasn’tshowinganysignsofimprovement.
Myfeverwasup,IthrewupeverythingIputinsidemybody,andcouldbarelydragmyselffrommybedtothedoortosnatchtheDoorDashdeliveryleftthere.
ItwasthefirsttimeIwasseriouslysicksinceIwasnine.Theluxuryofbeingweakanddependablewasn’tsomethingIallowedmyself.Infact,Ihadn’ttakenonesickdayfromschoolorworksincemovinginwiththeBrennans.I’dalwaysdonemybesttobeworthyoftheiraweandadmiration,ahalf-man,half-god.Unbreakableandstrongerthansteel.
ThiswaswhyIneverletmyadoptiveparentsin.Notfully,anyway.Notintomyapartment,mydomain,myprivacy.
Mycorneroftheworldwasmineandminealone—tolickmywounds,belessthanperfect,quiet,uncertain.
IwascontenttovisitTroyandSparrow,treatthemasfamilythenretreatbacktotheshadows.Thelesstheyknewaboutme,thebetter.LivingwiththemwhileIwasateenhadbeenlikingholdingmybreathunderwater.DespitepretendingIwasgoingtogoaboutmyoldwaysandgivethemtroublethedayI’dmovedinwiththem,Itriedhardnottofuckup.
Iwasthesmartest,fastest,mostruthlesssoldierTroyhadeverhad,gaveSparrowjewelryforChristmas,andprotectedSailorfiercelyeverystepoftheway.
Andnowthishappened.
OneandahalffuckswithAislingFitzpatrick.ThatwasallIneededtothrowmeofftherails.Rails?Iwasnowherenearthegoddamnfuckingtrainstationatthispoint.
Foradocilething,shesureknewhowtoleavealastingimpression.Buttheraw,impossiblesweetnessofhercalledtomelikealighthouseinpitchfuckingblack.
Touchingherwasamistake.OnethathadcostmemorethanIwaswillingtopay.FourdaysafterIhadher,andIstillcouldn’tlookherbrothersintheface.I’dneglectedallresponsibilitiestowardtheFitzpatricks.Ofcourse,IstillshowedupatBadlands,foundthetimetoslitaBratvamember’sthroatfortryingtosneakuponmeafterabusinessmeetingdowntown.
ThingswereheatingupbetweentheRussiansandme,andI’dhadtorecruitmoresoldiers.SomeofthemwereretiredfolksTroyusedtoworkwith.IneededtokeepBrooklineprotected—andmine.Nowwasnotthetimetoplayhousewiththelittledoctor.Notwhenshecouldbecomeatarget,too.
Onthefifthdayofmyfeelinglikeabagofsteamingshit,Iadmitteddefeat.CallingAislingtoprovidememedicalaidwaslikeJohnnieDeppcallingAmberHeardandaskinghertobehischaracterwitness.ItwastimetohurlmyassintothenearesthospitalandgetthemedicalhelpIsoobviouslyneeded.
Reluctantly,Itookashower,jammedmyfeetintoapairofsneakers,andgrabbedmykeys,onmywaytothedoor.Iswungitopen.
Aislingwasstandingontheotherside,brownpaperbagsfulltothebrimwithgroceriesinherarms.
Islammedthedoorinherface,butshewasquick—ormaybeIwasgoddamnslow—andslidherfootbetweenthedoorandtheframe.Sheletoutayelp,causingmetoopenthedoorimmediatelyallthewayandcurseundermybreath.
“HernamewasMs.Blanchet,”shepeepedout.
Istaredathersilently.Sheneededtoelaborateformetounderstandwhatthehellshewastalkingabout.Shedroppedthegroceries,cansandvegetablesrollingontothefloor,andhuggedhermidriff.
“Mygoverness.HernamewasMs.Blanchet.ShediedwhenIwasseventeen.OnthenightImetyou,actually,atthecarnival.IdrovethereafterIfoundher.Shehadcancer.Lungcancer.Shebattleditforthreeyears.Thelastfewmonths,shespentinahospicebutthendecidedshewantedtodieathomeandnotinastrangeplacearoundpeopleshedidn’tknowandmeantnothingtoher.SoshemovedbacktoherapartmentintheWestEnd.Shewassick,Sam.Soverysick.Shecouldn’teat,orbreathe,orlaughwithoutfeelingpain.Shestartedpeeinginherbedatnight,voluntarily,aftershe’dwokenupinthemiddleofthenighttogotothebathroomonetimeandfellinthehallway,breakingherhipbone.
“Butshewasaproudwomanandrefusedtowearadiaper.Somethinghadchangedaftershebrokeherhipbone.WheneverIcametovisither—notinthecapacityofastudentanymore;shecouldn’tteach,butIwouldvisithertoprovidecompany,seeingasshehadnooneelseintheStates—sheaskedmetohelphertakeherownlife.”
Therewasapause.Silencehungintheair.Reluctantly,Igrabbedafistfulofherdressandpulledherin,shuttingthedoorbehindus.Mypenthousewastheonlyapartmentonthefloor,butIstilldidn’twanttotakeanychancesofanyonelisteningtothis.Weleftthegroceriesoutside.Aislingtwistedherfingerstogether,staringatherfeet,determinedtofinishherconfession.
“Isaidno.Ofcourse,Isaidno!Thatwastherightthingtosay.MywholelifeI’ddreamedofbecomingadoctorsoIcouldhelppeoplesurvive,notkillthem.ButeverytimeIleftherapartmentafterwatchingherlightdim,Ifeltguiltierforrefusingher.Ittoremetoshreds.TheideathatIwasdenyinghersomethingshewantedsobadly.Somethingshetrulydesired.Helpinghermakethepaingoaway.AndIbegantowonder…wasn’titpatronizingofmetomakethedecisionofherlivinginpain?”
“Youwerejustakid,”Isaidtersely,butsheandIbothknewitwasbullshit.Lifedidn’tcareaboutyourage,bankaccount,orcircumstances.Lifejusthappened.IwasthirteenwhenIassumedmyroleasTroy’ssuccessor.I’dcrushedskulls,putbulletsinpeople’sheads,tortured,killed,manipulated,andkidnappedpeople.Becauselifehappenedtome,andtostayalive,Ihadtoadapt.
“Shebeggedandbeggedandbegged.Shewasslippingawayfromme,Icouldfeelit.”Aislingstoodthere,bymydoor,tearsstreamingdownherface.
Imadenomovetoconsoleher.Itwasn’twhatsheneededinthatmoment,evenanemotionallystunteddirtbaglikemecouldseeit.Shehadtogetthisconfessionoffherchest.“ThewomanI’dlookeduptosinceIwasfour,thewomanwhommyparentshadcollectedfromParistoshapemeintoalady—shewaswitty,sassy,effortlesslyelegantandchic,andaheavysmoker,”shesaidpointedly,eyeingme.“She’dbecomeashadowofherformerself.Ididn’tknowwhattodo.Until,finally,Ms.Blanchetmadethedecisionforme.Wehadafight.Shetoldmetostopcoming.Nottovisitheranymore.Saidshewouldn’tanswerifIvisited.ThatwasthreedaysbeforeImetyou.”
Herthroatbobbedwithaswallow,andsherakedhershakyfingersthroughherhairasshetookaraggedbreath.
“Ididn’tlisten.MaybeIshould’ve,butIdidn’t.Icouldn’tnotvisither.SoIdid.Iknockedonthedoor,rangthebell.Noonehadanswered.IwenttoaneighbordownstairsthatIknewhadhersparekeys.Anoldergentlemansheusedtotaketeawithbeforeshe’dgottentoosick.Hegavemethekey.Iopenedherapartment.Ifoundherinthebathtub…”shelookedsidewaysthentothefloor,closinghereyes“…sheusedwhateverenergyshehadlefttocutherwristsandbleedout.Shewasinariverofblood.That’swhyshehadthisfightwithme.That’swhyshedidn’twantmetocomeanymore.Shemadeuphermindabouttakingherownlife.Andshediditinsuchapainful,lonelyway.”
“Nix,”Isaid,myvoicegravelly.Suddenly,Iforgotaboutbeingsick.Iforgotaboutexistingingeneral.Herpaintookovertheroomandeverythingelseceasedtoexist.
Sheshookherhead,laughingbitterly.
“That’swhyIwassuchamessatthecarnival.AfterI’dfoundher,Icalledmyparentsand9-1-1.Igaveastatementthendrovehome,putonsomethingslutty,andstarteddrivingarounduntilIsawthelightscomingfromthecarnival.”
ThecarnivalwhereIsnatchedherfirstkisssimplybecauseshewastoosweetnottotakeadvantageof.
Whereshesawmetakingalife.
Aislingsawtwodeadpeopleinlessthantwelvehoursafterlivingatoo-shelteredlife.Itmusthavebeenashocktothesystem.
“Isawwhatyoudidtothatmanthatnight…”herchinquivered“…andsomethingweirdhappenedinsideme.Iknewyouwouldsurvive,wouldn’tlettheguiltconsumeyou.Youlookedyoungandhealthyandintelligent.Itrustedyousleptwellatnight.Atewell.Youwere…oddlyokaywithtakinglives.”
Shelookedupatmeforconfirmation,hereyesswimmingwithtears.Igaveheracurtnod.
“IownuptowhoIam.Ihavenotroubleeatingorsleeping.”
ExceptforwhenItouchyou…thenIbecomeapussy-assdipshitwithafeverwhocan’tkeepadamnmealdown.
Shenodded.
“That’swhatIthought.Butyouhavetounderstand,Iwenttoanall-girlsCatholicschool.Euthanasiagoesagainsteveryboneinmybody.”
“Youstilldoit,”Ichallenged.“Why?”
“Somehow,thatnight,youmadeitreal.Thepossibilityoftakingalife.Eventhoughoursituationisvastlydifferent.TheonlyguiltI’vefeltwasfornothelpingMs.Blanchetwhenshe’dneededme.Becauseshewastoofargone,andIwasfartooselfishtoburdenmyselfwithsuchguilt.Iendedupfeelinghorribleanyway.MuchworsethanIwouldhavehadIhelpedher.Thatdaychangedmylife.Ourmeetingwaskismet.YoumademerealizewhatIneededtodo.WhatIwasputonthisearthtodo.Andthenitmademethinkabouttherestofmyrelationships.Theworldsurroundingme.YouwannaknowwhatIlearned?”Shesniffed.
Igotit.Allofit.Whyshedidwhatshedid.Howshehadbecomewhoshewas.ANix.Agorgeousvisionofawoman,hidinganenchantingmonsterunderneath.
ButIdidn’tagreewithher.Shewasn’tputonthisearthtokillpeople.
“Whatisthat?”Iaskedsoftly.
“ThethingIlearnedissometimeswedoveryuglythingsforthepeoplewelove.Idoitformymother.Formyfather.Even,sometimes,formyself.”
Isaidnothing.I’dnevertrulylovedanyone,soitdidn’tseemlikeIcouldcontributetothatobservation.Shesteppedtowardme,thefogofdeathandmourningaroundherevaporating.
“ImetDr.Doyleinmysecondyearofpremed.Bychance,ifyoucouldbelieveit.Thatclinicthatyou’veseen?Helivesintheapartmentupstairs.Backthen,herentedittoafewstudents.Iwasatahouse-warmingpartythereandcouldn’tfigureoutwhythebasementwassofirmlylocked.Therewerenolessthanthreelocksonthatthing.TheguywholivedtheresaidDr.Doyleusedit,andpeoplewerecominginandoutoften,buthe’dneveraskedquestionsbecausefranklytherentwastoocheaptogetpickyorvocalaboutit,andhewasamedstudent—hewashardlyathomeanyway.Mycuriositygotthebetterofme,andIdecidedtogettothebottomofthesituation.I’dscheduledameetingwithDr.Doyle.Visitedhisoffice.Therealone,inthenicepartoftown,whereheworkedasadermatologist.Hehadplentyofpicturesofhiswife,butwhenIaskedabouther,hesaidthatshehaddiedtwoyearsearlier.She’dhadastrokethathadleftherwithseveredisabilitiesandbraindamage.AndbydamageImean,shecouldn’teveneatorcontrolherbladder.Iquestionedhimaboutherdeath.Iknewitwasinsensitive,butIstilldidit.Ijusthadafeeling…”
“Hekilledher,”Isaid,staringherdeadintheeye.
Nixnodded,walkingbrisklyinthekitchen’sdirection,poppingcabinetsopen,takingoutachoppingboardthenwalkingbacktothedoortoretrievehergroceries.
“IknewIhadtocoaxitoutofhim,soItoldhimaboutmystorywithMs.Blanchet.Itwasn’teasytoconvincehim,butfinally,heagreedtotakemeunderhiswing.TheminuteIgraduated,Istartedworkingwithhimfull-time.Upuntilthen,I’dstudiedhiswork.Whathedidafterhours.Heiscommittedtohelpingthosewhocannotbehelpedanywhereelse.We’renotbadpeople,Sam.”
Shecollectedthecarrots,thecelery,thechickenthighs,andthebroth,choppingthevegetablesandmeatontheboardandtossingthemallintoapotforwhatIassumedwasachickennoodlesoup.
“EuthanasiameansgooddeathinGreek.Itisaboutlettinglifegopeacefully,withdignity,onyourownterms.Butreally,itisaboutendingexcruciatingsuffering.Wehavesomegroundrulesweabideby,though,Dr.DoyleandI,whichiswhywehaveveryfewpatients.WhatwedoisprovideaservicefortheMs.Blanchetsoftheworld.Medicalandprescriptionrelieftopeoplewhodon’twanttoliveinahospicebutspendtheirremainingtimeintheirhomeswiththeirlovedones.”
“Whatareyourgroundrules?”Iasked,proppingmyforearmsonthekitchenislandbetweenus,intrigued.
I’dmetmanykillersinmylifetime,butallofthemwerelikeme.Decadentandsoulless.Selfishandcruel.Theyalldiditforthebloodthirst.Notforaltruisticreasons.Eventhosewhohadmoralcodesbrokethemoften.WhatAislingdidhadnothingtodowithwhatIdidforaliving.
“Foronething,withoutgettingintothebioethicsofit,weonlydovoluntarilyeuthanasia.Whichmeansthatifwedonothavethefullconsentofthepatientforanyreason,eveniftheyareinacoma,wewillnottakeonthepatient.Foranother,weonlytakeonpatientsattheveryendoftheirlives.Iamtalkingstagefourcancer,peoplewhohaveveryfewweekstolive.Andeventhen,wedon’tpulltheplug,sotospeak.”Sheputthepotofsouponthestove,turninguptheheat,lostinherexplanation.“Wedon’tperformtheactoftakingalife.No.Wedosomethingthatiscalledpalliativesedation.Basically,wekeepthepatientalivebutunderdeepsedationwhenthetimecomes,untiltheypassawaynaturally.Suchathingislegalinmanycountries,includingtheNetherlandsandFrance.Itisnotevenconsideredeuthanasia.Notreally.Butforthesepeople—formypatients—itmakesahugedifference.”
“Andyouonlydoitintheirhomes,”Isaid.
“Yes.”Sheputalidonthechickensoup,tearingopenabagofeggnoodles.“Wemakeitpossibleforthemtobesurroundedbytheirfriendsandfamily.”
“Thenwhatdoyouhavetheclinicfor?”
“AsIsaid,wetrytoprolongtheirlivesasmuchaswecanthroughmedicationandconsultation.”
“OnThanksgiving…”Itrailedoff.
Shebouncedonhertoes,lookingsideways.
“Yes.AndonHalloween,too.”
“Jesus,Ash.”Iplantedmyforeheadoverthekitchenisland,relishingitscoolness.
“Youreallyaremyownangelofdeath.”Shesighed.“EverytimeIdosomethinglikethis,wehaveamomenttogether.ButthoseweretheonlytimesIdidit.Iswear.”
“Youcouldgetintodeepshitfordoingthis,knowthat?”Iraisedmyhead,pinningherwithalook.Ofcoursesheknewthat.Aislingwasn’tstupid.
Shetiltedherchinup,ignoringmywords.“CillianandHuntersaytheyhaven’tbeenabletoreachyouthelastfewdays.Iputtwoandtwotogetherandfiguredyouweresickandtooproudtoaskforhelp,soIcametonurseyoubacktohealth.”
“Listentome…”Islammedmyopenpalmagainstthemarblebetweenus,losingpatience“…youcangotoprison.Thisisfirst-degreemurder.Itisfuckingintentional.Notevenmanslaughter.Youneedtostop.”
“Iknowyou’reusedtoobedience,doingwhatyoudo…”Nixperchedherpurseonthecounterandtookoutathermometer,saunteringovertomeandstickingitundermytongue“…butyoucan’ttellmewhattodo,Monster.”
Iglaredatherlikeshetookashitinmybed,waitingforthethermometertobeep.Whenitdid,Ispatitoutbackintoherhand,andhissed,“Thisconversationisnotover.”
“Please,”shesnorted,roundingthekitchenislandandtakingafewpillsfromherpurse,reachingovertohandthemtome.“Don’tpretendlikeyoucare.We’retoooldandtoojadedforthat.Here,takethese.”
Eyeingherskeptically,Isaid,“Idon’tknow,Doc,youdon’thaveaglowingtrackrecordofbringingpeoplebacktohealth.”
Sheshrugged,abouttowithdrawheroutstretchedhand.Isnatchedthepills,shovingthemintomymouthandswallowingwithoutwater.
“Thesoupwillbereadyinaboutforty-fiveminutes.Whydon’tyouliedownandtellmeallaboutyourbrandofevil?”
Kickingheroutwasn’tgoingtofly.NotwhenIcouldbarelycrawltothedoor,letaloneshoveheroutofit.Andanyway,Iwastiredoffightingheroff.She’dfinallysucceededinwormingherwayintomylife.IsawadistinctionbetweenherandGerald.Betweenherandherbrothers.Nixwasfinallyherownpersoninmyeyes.
Andwhatapersonthatwas.
Gorgeous,intelligent,andcompassionate.Worstofall—someonewhowasblindlyinlovewithme.Shedidn’thavetospellitout.Itwasradiatingfromeveryinchofhersilkenflesh.
Ididn’tdeserveher.
IcouldhaveherifIwanted.
Istaggeredtothecouchandfellontoit.Nixbalancedherselfontheedge,rightbesideme,lookingatmeexpectedly,likeRooneyanticipatingstorytime.
Iranmyfingersthroughmydamphair.
“Wheretostart?”
“Thebeginningwouldbeagoodplace.”
Rascal
“IwasbornonablisteringAugustday—”
“Well,maybenottheverybeginning.Howaboutthemiddle?No.Thirdchapter.Aftertheexposition,butbeforethingsgetrealjuicyandturbulent.”
EyeingherwithnewfondnessIwasn’tevenentirelysureIwascapableoffeeling,Ichuckled.
“ThingshadbeenashittybluruntilIturnednine,afterwhichitwasallabouttheBrennans.Ihadaroletoassume,andIdid.InowmakemorethanTroydidbackintheday.Iownmorebusinesses,moreproperties,andIcontrolmoreareasinBostonthanheeverdid.”
“ButyouarealsomessierthanTroywas.”Sheranherfingersthroughmyhair,fixingwhateverthehellIdidtoit,smiling.“Youkillmorepeople.Yougetinjured.Crimerateisup.Andit’sawell-knownfacttheBratvaisatickingtimebombwaitingtoexplode.Ireaditinthenews.”
“Readingsomethinginthenewsdoesn’tmakeittrue,”Ipointedout.
“WhatabouttheFBI?Cilliansaystheyareafteryou,too.”
“They’llnevercatchme.”
“Famouslastwords.”Shesighed.
“Quotemeonthem,Nix.”
Shesmiled,dippingherhandintothebulletjarwistfully,slippinginthemissingbulletshe’dstolenfromthere.
“Thankyou,”Icroaked,closingmyeyes.
“Youaremostwelcome,mydarlingmonster.”
Idriftedofftosleep,eventhoughItriedhardtostayawake.ItremindedmeofthefirstfewChristmasesIspentwiththeBrennans.Thefightagainstexhaustionwaslikeswimmingagainstthestream,butsomethinggoodwashappening,andwhothefuckknewwhenwouldbethenexttimeI’dfeelthiselusive,intoxicatingjoy?
Aislingmust’vesleptrightbesidemebecauseIcouldstillfeelherheatwhenIwokeup.Herscentofgingerandhoneyandmyfuckingundoing.
Iyawned,stretchingonthecouch.
“Makecoffee,”Igrowled,buttherewasnoresponse.
Iopenedmyeyes,lookingaround.
Therewasabowlofsteamingchickennoodlesoupbymyside,abottleofwater—uncapped—andsomepills.
Aislingwasgone.
Thenextday,ImetwithBarbaraMcAllisterontheoutskirtsofBoston.
Shewasahobo-lookingwoman,notinthehipster,bought-that-holed-shirt-for-three-hundred-bucksway,butintheseriously-need-a-sandwichway.Youcouldtellthatunderneaththebleachedhair,wrinkledface,andbadlyappliedself-tan,she’doncebeenanattractivewoman.
BarbarawasthefinalblowIneededtobringGeralddowntohisknees.ThemissingpieceinOperationDestroyGerald.Sheheldsomedeepsecretsheneverwantedanyonetoknow,andforahealthysumofmoney,shewaswillingtoairthemouttotheworld.
“ButIneedtomakesureit’llbeworthmywhile.I’llonlydoitfortherightprice.CanIborrowacigarette?”Barbaraaskedwhenwe’dmetinasmallcoffeeshop.
Sheworeablackmini-dressandacheaptrenchcoat,anditlookedlikethe‘rightprice’forherwouldbetwentybucksandaMcMeal.Isilentlyofferedhermyopenpackofcigarettes,keepingmyexpressionblank.
IstillsoldieredthroughmyplanforGeraldFitzpatrick,butIwasnolongergleefulaboutit.Somewherealongtheroad,hurtingAisling,whichIknewIwasboundtodo,feltunnecessary.Itwasn’tthatIwasgoingsoft.Itwasthattherewasnoneedtobeharshtoawomanaspliableasher.
Sofuckingpliablethatsherunsanundergrounddeathclinicandseeksyouout.
Barbaralitupacigarette,exhalingwithasatisfiedsmile.
“HowdoyouknowI’llevengetabookdeal?Thereisn’texactlyashortageofwomenGeraldFitzpatrickhasdippedhisdickinto.”Sheeyedmeskeptically.
“True,butyouaretheonlyonewho’dlivedinoneofhisapartments.Youweren’tjustafuck,youwereamistress.Heflewyouplaces.Boughtyouexpensivejewelry.Ibetit’sjustthetipoftheiceberg.”Ismirkedather,settingthebaittomakehersaymore.
Shegrinned,herteethunusuallywhiteforasmoker,andnoddedenthusiastically
“Oh,didheever.Samuel,myboy,headoredme.Ofcourse,Ididmypart,too.Therewereorgies.Massiveorgies.Hesometimestookusthreeatatime.IalwaysthoughtitwaspeculiarGerwassoupsetwhenhisson,Hunter,didit.Afterall,hewasthekingoforgiesbackintheday.”
Myjawtensed.Ididn’tneedtohearaboutmybrother-in-law’ssexcapadesbeforehemarriedmybabysister.
“Whatelse?”Iasked.
“Thereweredrugs.Awholelotofthematthoseparties.”Barbararubbedherchin.ItstruckmeasinterestingthatalthoughGeraldhadputheronthelist,too,whenIaskedabouther,he’dliedtome.SomeofthedetailshehadgivenmeweredifferentfromwhatI’dfoundwhenIconductedmyownresearch.Addresses,wherethey’dmet,herage.Nothinglinedup,soIdecidedtodigdeeper.IwasgladIdid.
“Therewerealsoafewabortions.”Sheclearedherthroat.“Geralddidnotliketouseprotection,buthealsodidn’twantanybastardchildren.Hewasactuallyadamantaboutthat,asyoucouldimagine.I,myself,knewbetterthantotemptfate.Iwasalwaysonthepill.Didn’thavetheambitionofgettingknockedupwithabillionaire’skid.Toodangerous.Lookingback,maybeIshould’ve.MaybeI’dfarebetterthanIdotoday.”Shelookedaroundthesmallcoffeeshopwiththepeelingwallpaperanddustysurfaces.Shelivedinasmall,desertedtown.Itwasobviousshewasn’tswimminginit.
“ButIwasprivytoeverythingthathappenedbehindthescenes.Hewasamonster,Samuel.Arealmonster.Evermetone?”ShesuckedonthecigaretteIgavehergreedily,ignoringthedisturbedglancesthebaristabehindthecountershotather—thoughshedidn’tapproachusortellhertoputitout.
“Yeah,”Isaideasily.“I’vemetmonstersbefore.Multipletimes,actually.So,here’showwearegoingtodothis,Barbara.I’llbringthelucrativetell-allbookdeal,you’llbringthejuice.Butwhateverhappens,youmustrememberonething—younevermetme,neversawme,andneverheardofme.AmIclear?”
Shenodded,finishingoffhercigaretteandtakingasipofthestalecoffeeI’dboughther.
“Absolutely.MayIhaveanothercigarette?”
Ilaughed,standingupandtossingthepackinherlapbeforedisappearingbackintothewhiteblizzard.
“Sure,sweetheart,takethewholefuckingpack.”
IsmelleditbeforeIsawit.Thepuke.
ThenwhenInoticedthefirstspot,Irealizedtheywereeverywhere.Vomitstains.
Yellowandfaint,coveringthecarpets,thefloor,thewalls.
Idroppedmybackpackatthedoor,followingtheirtrailupthestairway,wheretheyled.Itwasunlikethehousekeeperstoleaveanysortofdirtunattended.
Unlesstheywantedmetoseeit.
Itwasacryforhelp,Iknew.Andnotjustfrommymother.
Lord,whatdidshedonow?
Ireachedthesecondfloorthenroundedthehallway,mystridepickingupspeed.JustasIexpected,thepukestainsledtothemasterbedroom,mymother’sroom.Athairhadleftdaysago,andeventhoughItriedmybesttokeepaneyeonher,IknewMotherwasspiraling.
Istoppedoutsideherdoor,puttingmyhandonthedoorknobanddrawingadeepbreath.
“Mother?”
Therewasnoanswer.Ithrewthedooropen,flashbacksofMs.Battackingmymemories,rawandvivid.
Blood.
Bath.
Wrists.
Despair.
Iscannedtheroom.Itwascompletelyempty.
“Mother?”Iechoed,confused.
Cautiously,Imademywayintotheen-suitebathroom,myheartinmythroat.Ihopedforthebestbutexpectedtheworst.Mother,rehashingthatsceneatMs.B’sapartment,finallymakinggoodonheridlethreatstotakeherownlife.Iknewmymotherwasacutter.Itactuallyprovidedmeascrewed-upsenseofsecuritybecausepeoplewhocutwerelesslikelytoperform“successful”suicideattempts.
JaneFitzpatrickwasn’tevenentirelyacutter.Sometimesshebruisedherselfalittle,wellandfarawayfromthewrists,todrawattention.Butshealmostexclusivelydidthisformyfather’sandmyviewing.HunterandCillianhadnoidea.Theyweren’tpawnsinheremotionalblackmailscheme.
Ifoundherlyingonthefloorbythevanity,facedown.
“Mother!”Icriedout,rushingtothebathroom,swingingthedooropen.
Ifelldownonbothknees,turningheroverbytheshoulder.Shewaspassedoutcoldinapondofherownvomit.Half-dissolvedpillswereswimminginthevomitlikelittlestars,theircontent,powderyandthick.Likestardust.
Jesus.
Igrabbedherhair,shovingmyfingersintohermouth,forcinghertogagandthrowupmore.Shecametolifeinstantly,atfirstprotestingweaklyaboutmyhurtingherasIheldherhead,butthenshestartedpukingmore.
Morepills.Moreeverything.
“Youneedtogetyourstomachpumped,”Igroaned,callinganambulancewithmyfreehandasIcontinuedtryingtomakeherthrowup.“Whathaveyoudone?”
ButIknewexactlywhatshe’ddoneandwhy
Theambulancearrivedfourminuteslater.Ifolloweditwithmyowncar.ItriedtocallHunterandCillianrepeatedly.Boththeirphoneswentstraighttovoicemail.
Icouldn’tunderstandwhy.Itwasnighttime.Theyshouldbeathomewiththeirfamilies.Iresortedtotextingbothofthemourcodeword.Ouremergencycode.
Clover.
Andthen,whentherewasnoanswer:Clover,clover,clover!Pickup!
Reluctantly,Ididn’twantmysisters-in-lawtoknowtheextentofhowscrewed-upmyfamilywas,especiallywithDalivingoutofthehouseandmyparentsprobablygettingadivorce.IcalledPersy.
PersephoneandIalwayshadthisunspokenconnection,oftwo,shyandromanticwallflowersforcedtoblossominthejunglethatwastheFitzpatrickfamily.
“Hello?”Perssoundeddrowsy,drunkwithsleep.
“Oh.Hi,”Isaidchirpily,feelingidioticforforcingonacheerfultone.“It’sAsh.I’mtryingtoreachCillian,butheisnotanswering.Anyideawherehemightbe?”
“Hey,Ash.Iseverythingokay?”sheaskedandthen,processingthefactIaskedheraquestion,sheadded,“KillisatBadlandswithSam,Devon,andHunter.It’ssomekindofaspecialgamblingnight.Iwasn’tpayingattention.CanIhelpyouinanyway?”
MybloodsizzledinmyveinsasIgrippedthesteeringwheeltoapointofhavingwhiteknuckles.Mybrotherswereghostingme.They’dleftmetotendtoourmotherwhiletheywentgamblingwithSamBrennan.
Freshangerbubbledinmystomach.HowdareCillianandHuntersoeasilyacceptarealityinwhichsweet,timidAislingtookcareofMotherandAthairwhiletheywenttolivetheirbigfulfillinglives?
IpulledupatthehospitalandusheredMothertotheERalongwithherdesignateddoctor,givinghimasmuchinformationasIcouldbasedonwhatIknew.Whatdrugsshemayhadtaken,thequantity,howmuchofitshethrewup.
Theyransometestsatthespeedoflightandpumpedherstomach,butitwasalreadymostlyemptythankstome.MotherwasputonanIVdripandwasconsciousnow,noteventwohoursaftershegotadmitted.
“Justdon’ttellyourfather.He’dthinkit’sabouthim,andhedoesn’tneedtheegoboost,”shemoaned,reachingfortheremotebyherhospitalbed.“DoyouthinktheyhaveNetflixhere?Oh,thisissohighlyinconvenientforme.Ihaveafacialtomorrowmorning.”
Istaredatherthroughbloodshoteyes,mywholebodyshakingwithrage.
“You’reanidiot.”
ThewordsslippedfrommymouthbeforeIcouldstopthem,butIcouldn’tforthelifeofmefindadropofremorseaftertheywereoutintheopen.
“Excuseme?”Herheadjerkedsideways.Shegavemeahard,motherlystare.
“Youheardme.”Istoodup,walkingtothewindow,watchingsnow-cakedtreesanddirtyiceroads.“You’reanidiot.Aselfishoneatthat.Yourefusetogetthehelpyouneed,andyouabuseprescriptiondrugstogetbackat…who,exactly?Theonlypersonyouarehurtingisyourself.Nowletmetellyouwhat’sabouttohappen…”Iturnedbackaround,fixingherwithmyownglare,mynewfoundspinetinglingwiththeneedtotakeaction.“I’mgoingtogobackhome,leaveyouhereonyourown,andemptyallyourcabinetsofdrugs.Anydrugs.Youwon’tevenhaveanAdvilforyourmorningmigraines.ThenI’mgoingtobookyouanappointmentwithatherapist.Ifyoudon’tgo,I’mmovingoutofthehouse.”
“Aisling!”Mothercried.“Howdareyou!Iwouldnever—”
“Enough!”Iroared.“Idon’twanttohearit.I’mtiredofmotheringyouallday,everyday.Ofholdingyourhandthroughlife.Ofbeingtheparentinourrelationship.Youknow,IgrewupseeingyouandDashippingoffCillianandHuntertoboardingschoolsinEuropeandwasterrifiedofsharingtheirfate.TherewasnothingIfearedmorethansayinggoodbyetoyouandAthair.Now,Iamactuallyjealousofmybrothers,”Ispatout,“becauseyougavethemthebestgiftofall.Theygrewupbarelyknowingyouandlikingyouverylittle.TheyarenotattachedtoyoulikeIam.Theycanlivetheirlives,doastheyplease,freefromthechainsoflovingtwopeoplewhoareincapableoflovinganyoneelsebutthemselves.I’mdone!”
Iflungmyhandsupintheairandstormedout,bumpingintoadoctorwhoscurriedintoMother’sroom.Hecalledouttome,tryingtofindoutwhatwaswrong,butIignoredhim,feelingveryyoungandverydesperateallofasudden.
Thedrivebackhomewasablur.IwassurprisedImadeitatall,seeingmyunshedtearsimpairedmyvision.Istormedintomymother’sen-suite,openedthecabinets,andstartedthrowingeverythingintoawhitetrashbagI’dtakenfromthepantry.
Anythingyoucouldgethighonwasgone.Ishoveditallinwithoutrhymeorreason.Sunscreen,Vaseline,bandages,painkillers,andcoughmedicinealike.WhenIwassatisfiedwithmyfindings,andsuretherewerenootherdrugstobefoundinthehouse,Iproceededtostompmywayoutside,hoistedthefulltrashbagintothetrunkofmyPrius,andflooreditallthewaytoBadlands.
ItriednottothinkaboutthelasttimeI’dseenSam.
ItoldhimIneverwantedtoseehimagainthenwentaheadandknockedonhisdoor.NotthemostconsistentI’dbeen,butIwasworried.WhenI’dheardfromCillian,Hunter,andDathatSamwasnowheretobefound,Ifiguredhewasholedupinhisapartmentandforgoodreason.Honestly,I’dbeenmoreafraidhe’dgottenshotorhadaseriouswoundandwastooproudtoaskforhelp.
I’dfoundhimsickandshivering,nursedhimbacktohealth,andthengavehimthespaceheneeded.
Thatwasthreedaysago.
Heneverevensaidthankyou.
NotthatIhadanyreasontoexpecthimto.ThiswasSamIwastalkingabout,awell-knownmonster.
WhileIknewhewouldn’thandmeovertotheauthoritiesinaredsatinribbon,Ialsodidn’ttrusthimwiththeinformationofwhatIwasdoingwithmymedicaldegree.WhydidIsharewithhimmystoryofMs.B,then?
Becauseyoulovehim,moncheri,andwhenyoulovesomeone,youwantthemtogettoknowyou,somaybethey’llfallforyou,too.
Well,Samwasobviouslyfeelingmuchbetter,seeingashewasclubbingwithmyselfishbrotherstonight.
IstoppedinfrontofBadlands,draggedthetrashbagout,androundedthebuilding,towardthebackdoorleadingtoSam’soffice.
Iknewbetterthantoknock.WhichwaswhyItookthetweezersoutofthetrashbagandtamperedwiththelock.Itwasasimplelock,andIhadtheadvantageofknowingwhatIwasdoing.I’dbrokenintomybrothers’roomsplentyoftimeswhenIwasyounger.Iwasboredandaloneintheimpossiblylarge,loomingAveburyCourtManor.
Sometimes,myonlycompanywasotherpeople’sthings.ToysandgadgetsIhadfoundundertheirbeds.I’devenpretendedthewomengracingthecoversofPenthouseandPlayboy—foundunderHunter’sbed—weremygirlfriends.
Thedoorhissedopenwithasoftclick,andItrampledinside.Sam’sofficewasdarkandempty.Ithrewthedooropenandheadeddownstairs,themusicpoundingfromtheclubmakingthefloorquake.
Iwasn’tinterestedintheclub,though.Iheadedstraighttothecardrooms.AssoonasIreachedthejunctionofthefourcardrooms,Ipeekedintoeachofthem.Itwasn’thardtofindmybrothers.Theywereinthelastone.Itwasthenoisiest,mostboisterousroom,filledwall-to-wallwithmenwearingtuxedos,smokingCubancigarsanddrinkingoldwhiskey,huddledaroundrouletteandcrapstables.
Cillianwasinthecorneroftheroom,talkinganimatedlywithDevon,whileHunterwasnexttoSambytheroulette.
TheMonsterlookedbrand-new,acigarettedanglingfromthecornerofhismouthashebarkedathisemployees,nohintofhisprevious,sweaty,fever-riddenselfinsight.
Swaggeringinside,thetrashbagflungovermyshoulderlikeIwasSantadeliveringpresentsonChristmasDay,Istoppedinthecenteroftheroomandemptiedthecontentofthetrashbaginthemiddleoftheroulettetable,asmileonmyface.
Everyone,andIdomeaneveryone,gasped.
EveryoneotherthanSam.
Hunterwasthefirsttorecoverfrommylittlestint.
“Holyshitballs,sis.Waytomakeanentrance.”Hewhistledlow,reachingforthecenteroftheroulettetabletograbapackofmintsI’dthrowninthereaccidentally,poppingtwointohismouth.“Doyouhavesomeblow?Idon’tusedrugsanymore,butifyouhaveasidehustle,I’dliketofinanciallycontribute.”
“Aisling,”Cilliansaid,alliceandmanners,saunteredtowardme.“Whatareyoudoinghere,besidestheobvious,whichisembarrassingyourself?”
“Greatquestion,”Ichirped,allhoneyandsmiles.“Well,brother,Istartedmydayoffatsixam,workedalongshift,camebackhometofindourmotherpassedoutinherownpuke,thenproceededtoshovemyfingersdownherthroatandusherhertothehospitaltoensureshedidn’toverdoseonchewablevitaminsorwhateveritwasshedecidedtocramintoherstomach.Atthispoint,Itriedtocallmydearbrothers,butbothofthemweretoobusyplayingcardstopickupthephone.Youdidn’tevenanswerouremergencycodeword,eventhoughI’veneveruseditinmylifebefore,soitshouldhavetippedyouoffaboutthesituation.Ourmotherisfine,bytheway.ButI’mnot.I’mtiredandinneedofashowerandfedupwithcarryingtheburdenofgluingthisfamilytogetherallbymyself.”
Theroomturnedveryquietandverystill,andsuddenly,IwasonlyawareofSam,Cillian,andHunter.Nooneelseregistered.
Samsnappedhisfingerstogetherandbarked,“Everybodyout.Familybusiness.Phil,Jonathon,Archie…”heturnedtohiscroupiers“…takeittoroomthree,andgeteveryoneacomplimentarydrink.Notfromthevintagemenu.”
Samsatbackononeofthevintagearmchairrecliners,lightinghimselfanothercigaretteasheobservedus.Iturnedmyheadtowardhim.IwasinthemoodtosetfiretoeverysinglerelationshipI’deverhad,andhewashighonmylistofpeopleIwantedtosnapat.
“Wow.Youmeanyou’renotgoingtokickmeoutofyourclub?”Igaspedmockingly.
“Ifyoushowuptomorrow,Iwill.”Heloungedcomfortablyinhisseat,smirking.“Rightnowyouseemtobedoingafinejobruiningyourownevening.Noneedformetointerfere.”
“You’reanasshole,”Ispatout.
“Andyousoundlikeabrokenrecord.”
“Cutthisout,bothofyou.Startfromthebeginning,Ash,”Cillianorderedasthelastofthecrowdtrickledoutoftheroom.“Whathappened?SincewhenhasMotherbeendabblingwithprescriptiondrugs?”
“Sinceforever.”Ithrewmyarmsintheair.“Sheisacutter,too.”
Bothmybrotherspaledinresponse.
“Betyoudidn’tknowthateither,huh?Shemainlydoesthisforattention,tokeepDaandmeonourtoeswhenevershethinkswedon’tpayherenoughattention.There’salotyoudon’tknow.Ican’tdothisallbymyself.Ourfamilyisfallingapart.”
“I—”Cillianstarted,butIwassomadIcuthimoff.ItwasthefirsttimeIeversnappedatmyolderbrother.
“Andyoudidn’tevenpickupthephonewhenIcalledyou!Youghostedme.”
“Wedidn’tghostyou,”Cillianmaintainedcoolly.“Weputourphonesasideanddidn’tseeyourtexts.”
“Evenifyoudidn’tghostmetonight,you’veghostedmeourentirelives,lettingmelivethisnightmareoftendingtoourmotheralone!”
“Sis,”Huntersaidsoftly,reachingformyhandovertheroulettetable,“wehadnoidea.Itwasn’tlikeweignoredthesituationonpurpose.Youwereourblindspot.”
“Yeah.”Cillianleanedashoulderagainstthewall,lookinggravelyserious.“MotherandAthairalwaysseemedontheunhingedside,butyouhavetorememberwe’veneveractuallylivedundertheirroof.Notsincetoddlerhood,anyway.Wethoughtitwasundercontrol.Thatyouweretheonetakingadvantageoftheperksofstayingathomeandnotviceversa.”
“Stayingathomeisanightmare!”Ifellontoanearbystool,buryingmyfaceinmyhands,hatingthatSamwaswatchingthiswholefreakshow.“Motherisamastermanipulator.Idrawherbaths,driveherplaces,actasamessengerbetweenherandDa.I’mbasicallyhermaid,andIdon’twanttodothisanymore.”
“Youdon’thaveto,”Cilliansaidfirmly.“We’llcomeupwithaplan.IwillgotothehospitalandstaywithMothertonight.Hunter,you’lltakeovertomorrow.Aislingneedssomespacefromherforthetimebeing.”
Hunternodded.“Don’tworry,sis,wegotthis.Youdon’thavetodothisaloneanymore.”
Itriedtoregulatemybreaths.IcouldfeelSam’sgazeonme.Heseemedeerilyquiettheentireconversation.NotthatIexpectedhimtoweighinonourfamilywoes,butSamwasn’tafanofgossip.Usuallywhenhelostinterestinsomething,heremovedhimselffromthesituation.
Whydidhestayintheroom?
“Ijustneedtoclearmyhead,”Isaidquietly.“Heroverdosewastogetbackatme.I’mafraidifIgiveherwhatshewants—moreattention—it’lldefeatthepurposeofstrong-armingherintogettingthehelpsheneeds.”
Atthesametime,movingoutandgoingcoldturkeywassomethingIdidn’twantonmyconscience.Sheneededme,learnedhowtobedependentonme,andleavingnowwouldbecruel.
“You’reright,”Hunteragreed.“Wedon’twantyounearher.We’llletherknowitcan’tcarryonlikethis.Nowthatwe’reinthepicture,too.”
“I’llgiveAislingaridehome.”Samstoodup,hisvoicetoneless.
Ishottomyfeetatthesametime.“No,thanks.I’mparkedoutside.”
“Ican’tbelieveI’msayingthis,butSam’sright.”Huntergavemeanapologeticlook.“You’reinnoconditiontodrive.Pickthecaruptomorrowmorning.Yourbodymustbefloodingwithadrenaline.Trytotakeiteasytonight.We’lltacklethisclusterfucktomorrow.”
“It’saclusterfuckindeed.Whichremindsme—now’sagreattimetoaskforaraise,”Devondrawledsarcastically,emergingfromtheshadowsoftheroom.Iforgothewasevenhere,whichwasanimpossibletask,seeinghowgorgeoushewas.“TheWindsorsdrawlessattentionthanyoulot.”
“Handstoyourself,Brennan,”CillianbarkedinSam’sdirection.“Rememberyourpaycheckcomeswithstipulations.”
“Yourneckdoes,too,Fitzpatrick.”Samofferedmehishand,helpingmetomyfeet,leavingmybrothersbehindus.Hepressedhishandtothesmallofmyback,usheringmeupthestairsbacktohisoffice.
“Howareyoufeeling?”heaskedtightly.Ihadaninklingthemereideaofpretendingtocaremadehisskincrawl,yetIoddlyappreciatedhisconcern,evenifitwasn’tgenuine.
“Fine.”Irubbedmyforehead.“Justtired.Overstimulated.”
“Stayatmyplace.Ihaveasparebedroomandzerofucked-upparentslivingundermyroof.”
“AndIhavetwobrotherswho’dkillmeiftheyfindoutIspentthenightwithyou.”Isighed,inwardlyadmittingtheofferwasverytempting.
Samwasn’tgoingtogotowarwithDaandmybrothersjusttobewithme.Icametotermswiththatalongtimeago.Sotherewasnopointinacceptinghisofferandcreatingmoretensionbetweenhimandthemeninmyfamily.
“AdeadAislingwouldmakelifeeasierforme.Theofferstillstands,”Samremarked.
“Charming,butI’llpass.Idon’tgowhereI’mnotwelcome.”
“Sincewhen?”heasked,deadserious.
“Sincealways.”Ifeltmycheeksflush.“Foryourinformation,you’retheonlypersontobringthecrazyoutinme.”
“Dangerousdicktendstodothattogoodgirls.”Hekickedthebackdoortohisofficeopen.“Ihadnoideathingswerethatbadathome.”
WepouredoutsideintoBoston’sDecemberfreeze.Athinlayeroficecoatedeverything,fromthegroundtothebuildingsandglasspanesofwindows.Red,white,andgoldChristmasdecorationshungonthestreetlampstwinkledbackatus.Samclaspedthebackofmyneckpossessively,leadingmetohisPorschelikeIwashisprisoner.
“Theyweren’talways,”Iheardmyselfsay.“Therehadbeenupsanddowns.Beingthebackboneofthefamilywasn’tsobadwhenthepostureofourskeletonwasn’tterrible.Thelastweeksweretheworst,though.EversincethemediapickedupthestoryofDa’sstupidaffair,thingsbegandeteriorating.Thenthepoisoninghappenedandthemysteriousthreateningletters.Theheirloomcufflinkswerethecherryontopofthecrapcake.”
Samunlockedhiscarandhelpedmeinsidethepassengerseat.Thedrivetomyhousewasquiet.
Thefirstportionofit,anyway.
WhenwereachedtheaffluenceoftheBackBay,asilverBentleyclosedinonusfrombehind.Sam’seyesflickedtoitinhisrearviewmirror.TheBentleyspedup,kissingourbumperonceandsendingusflyingforwardwithajerk.
“Shit,”Sammuttered.“Unbuckleyourself,duckyourhead,andcoveritwithbothhands,Nix.”
“What?”Mybloodfrozeinmyveins.“Wh-why?”
“Justdoit.”
“But—”
Samdidn’twaitformetofinishmysentence.Hetookasharpleftturn,drivingoverthemanicuredlawnofsomeone’sfrontyardasheslicedthroughajunction,notstoppingatatrafficsign,andspedthroughasidestreet.ThefirstbulletpiercedtherearwindowandpoppedintotheACunit,whereitgotstuck.
“Motherfucker,”Samhissed,stillcompletelycalm.Hegrabbedthebackofmyheadroughly,dippingitfurtherdown,leaningtowardmetoensureIwastuckedawayascarefullyaspossible.Thecarskidded,andIknewthatthefactithadbeensnowingandtheroadwasextraslipperydidn’tworkinourfavor.
“Onthefloor,Nix.”
“Sam,”Iscreeched,terrified,“don’tleantowardme!They’llshootyouifyoudo.”
“Bettermethanyou.”
Anothershotpiercedthroughtherearwindow.Itmadeitshattercompletely.Theglasscamedowninasheet.Samjumpedontopofme,historsocoveringmybody,blockingmefromharm,butstillsomehowdriving.
“Whatareyoudoing!”Imoaned.“You’regoingtogetyourselfkilled.Drive!”
Heflooredtheaccelerator.Thecarstartedtosoundlikeaplanetakingoff.Then,withoutwarning,heswiveled,makingasharpU-turnandspeedingupagain.Sincemyheadwastuckedfirmlybelowmyseat,Icouldn’ttellifwelostwhoeverwasafterusornot.
“Youokay?”heasked.
“I’mfine.”Ichancedalookathimthroughmyperiphery,noticingthathisarmwasbleeding.Hecaughtabulletwhilepushingmedowntothefloor.Hetookabulletforme
“You’rebleeding,”Isaid.
Hegroanedbutdidn’tsayanything.
“Arewesafe?”Iasked.
Samdidn’tanswer.Icouldtellhewasconcentratingondecidingwhichturnhewasgoingtotakenext.Iguesseddrivinghomewasoutofthequestion.Hewashardlygoingtoleadhisenemiestohisdoorstep.
“Whoarethey?”Tuckedunderthepassengerseat,Ipressed,mykneesknockingagainstmychinasmyteethchattered.I’dneverbeenthisscaredinmylife.Thekindoffearthatseepsintoyourbonesandburrowsintoyoursoul.
“Bratva.TheRussians.”
“TheyownBrookline,”Imurmured.Iknewthat.Everyoneknewthat.Myparentshadn’tallowedmeintotheirneighborhoodsfearingI’dgetkidnappedforransom.
“Notanymore.”
“They’retryingtokillyoubecauseyoutookovertheirterritory?”
“Conquered,fairandsquare.Iftheyfindyouinmycar,they’llhaveamerrygoodtimemilkingyourdaddyformoney.Butthey’llgang-rapeandtortureyoufirst.Whichiswhyyouneedtostaythefuckdownandletmehandlethis.”
Iheardanothershotfiredtowardus.Isqueezedmyeyesshut,keepingmyheadbent,justlikehetoldme.Samtookanothersharpturn.Heopenedtheglovecompartmentabovemyhead,knockingmyforeheadintheprocess.Hetookoutagun,stoppedthecar,thenreversedfast.HeturnedaroundandstartedheadingintheBentley’sdirection,releasingthegun’ssafety,adevioussmirkonhisface,hiseyeszingingwithdetermination.
Heisplayingchicken.
Iwantedtoclawhisfacetoribbons.
ThebuzzingcomingfromtheBentleybecamelouder,andIknewtheywereclose.Samstretchedhisarmoutsidehisopenwindowandfiredtwoshots.
Timeandspacehungaboveourheads,suspended.
Iheardascream.Amoan.Thenfootstepsoverdampconcrete,thecrunchingofthesnowunderneathsomeone’sfeet.Someonerunning.Fleeing.Sobbing.
“Youcancomeupnow,”Sammurmured,stone-cold.Numb,Islidbacktomyseat,buckledup,andmovedashakyhandovermyravenhair.
Samslowedhisvehicle,andInoticedhewasfollowingaman.Ionlysawthebackofhim.Ascrawnyfigurewithblondmessyhairandaprominentlimp.Heworebaggysweatpantsandmatchinghoodie.Theglow-in-the-darktype.Samdirectedhisgunathishead,holdingitsteadily.
“Areyougoingtoshoothim?”Iwhispered.
“Onlycowardsshootpeopleintheback,Nix.I’llshoothimintheface.Respectfully,ofcourse.”
Ididn’tknowifhewasbeingsarcasticorpurposelycrass.Eitheroptionseemedcompletelyunsuitablefortheearsofalady.ButthatwastheessenceofSamBrennan.Hewouldtakeabulletformewithouteventhinkingtwiceaboutitbuttrash-talktothemoonandbackinmypresence.
Themanstumbledontheunevencobblestoneofthesidewalk,tryingtopickuphispacewhenheheardusdrivingbyhisside.Itwasfutile.Samhadalreadycaughthim.TheMonsterwasnowplayingwithitsfood.
Theman’sshouldersquaked,andhesniffledloudly.
“Please.”IputahandonSam’sarm,theonethatwasn’tholdingthegun.“Don’tmakethingsworse.”
Heignoredme,passingthemanandparkinginfrontofhim,blockinghisway.
Ourvictimstopped.Ileanedforward,takingagoodlookathim.Sammust’vekilledhisarmedcompanion.
Themanwasnotamanatall.
Itwasaboy
Offourteen.Maybefifteenatmost.
Gangly,long-limbedandwide-eyed,hispastyfacesprinkledwithacne.
Myheartlurchedandtwistedbehindmyribcage.Hewasobviouslyaminor.Maybeevenaninnocentone.IimaginedhewasbornandinitiatedintotheBratva.Itwashardtobelievehewouldchoosesuchalifeforhimself.
Samgotoutofthecar,blockingmyviewwithhisbody,stillprotectingme,hisgunaimedattheboy’shead.Theboydroppedtohisknees,raisinghisarmsintheairindefeat.Hedidn’tseemtoevenrealizetherewasasecondpersoninthecar.
“P-p-please,”hesputtered,weepingsoopenly,soloudly,itfeltlikehetoremychestintwoandwatchedwhileIbledout.“Ididn’twanttodothis.Ibeggedthemnotto.Hewas…Iwas…myfather,Imean,putaguntomyhead.Icouldn’tsayno.Icouldn’t.Youknowwhatit’slikewithdadslikehim.Youknow.Youhaveone,too.You’reaBrennan.”Heswallowedair,hiccupping,hisfacetwistedinsomuchagony,itwashardtomakeouthisfeatures.
“Youfuckedup.Nowit’stimetopay,”Samgroundout.
“No!”Igasped.
Ishotoutofthecar,desperatetodosomething,anythingtosavethisboy.
ItackledSamwithoutthinking,tryingtobringhimdowntothegroundwithme.ButhewasmuchbiggerandheavierthanIwas.Itfeltlikeslammingheadfirstintoaconcretewall.Iflewbackwardfromtheimpact,butSamsnakedhisfreearmaroundmywaist,jerkingmebehindhim,liketheboystillposedathreattome.
“Please,Sam,please.”Iwrappedmyarmsaroundhischestandstomachandfelthismusclestensingagainstmyfingertipsthroughhisshirt.Asoft,barelyaudiblegroanescapedhislips.Itookthatasasign.
“Please,heisjustaboy.Youngandmisled.Likeyouwere.Ifyoudon’tdothisforyourself,doitforme.ForwhatIdidforyoursoldiers.For…for…forthechickennoodlesoup!”
Iheldmybreath,waitingforanotherstingingrejectionandthepainthatcamewithit.Tomysurprise,allIfeltwasabriefshudderpassingthroughhistorso.Goosebumpsroseonmyskin.Ididn’tknowwhy,butIfeltthismomentwasmonumentalforbothofus,thoughinverydifferentways.
“Youhaveonethinggoingforyou,andthatisthatIdon’twantthefuckingheadachethatcomeswiththeterritoryofblowingyourbrainsoutinfrontofher.”Sambaredhisteeth,loweringhisgunjustaninch.
Iletoutarelievedbreath,feelingnauseouswithrelief.
MythroatburnedasIexhaled.Imust’vescreamedbloodymurderwhilewewerebeingchasedinthecar.
“ButI’msendingyouwithamessageandasouvenir.Themessageisasfollows:tellVasilythatIamgoingtohavehisheadonaplateifheasmuchastriestobreatheinmydirectionagain.Lasttime,Icuthisface.Nexttime,Iamgoingtodecapitatehimcompletely.”
Theteenagernoddedalmostviolently.
“W-w-what’sthesouvenir?”HepeekedatSamthroughoneeye,theotheronesqueezedshutinfear.
Samsmirkedcrookedly.
“Thisoneissomethingtoremembermeby.Afarewell.Areminder.Awarning.Areyouleftorright-handed?”
Thekiddidn’ttrytobegforremorse.Hebenthisheadobediently.
“Right-handed.”
Samfiredashot,thebulletgrazingtheteenager’srightarm,goingstraightthroughhisnervesystem.
“Here.This’llensureyou’llbeacrappyaimfortherestofyourlifeandchooseadifferentoccupation.Incaseyou’rethinkingoffinishingyourdaddy’sjob…”Samchuckled.
Bloodpooledbeneaththeyoungman,buthedidn’tmakeamovetopressahandtohiswound.
“Thankyouforsparingmylife,sir.”
Samhoistedmeoverhisshoulder,bloodstilltricklingdownhisarm,andledmetohiscar.Hisbloodranthelengthofmythigh,andIshiveredwithunexpecteddesire.
Ifeltprotectedandwantedtoprotecthim,andifthatwasn’tmajorlyscrewed-up,Ididn’tknowwhatwas.
“Neverinterferewithmybusinessagain,Aisling,andnever,evershowyourfacewhenwebumpintomyenemies.”Hetuggedmypantsandpantiesdownmyupperthigh,thecoldnightairstingingmyskin.Samsankhisteethintooneofmyasscheeks,bitinghard.
“They’reyourenemies,notmine.”Iinvoluntarilythrustmythighsagainsthisshoulder,beggingformore.Heopenedthepassengerdoor,tossingmeinsideandbucklingmeuplikeIwasatoddler.
“They’llthinkyou’remyweakness.”
“They’dbewrong.”Icrossedmyarmsovermychest.
“Veryastuteofyou,Einstein,”hesnapped.“ButI’veneverbeenseenwithwomenbefore.They’lljumptoconclusions.”
“Isthatwhyyouwon’tmarryBecca?”Ichallenged.“Becauseyouwantedtospareherpreciouslife?”
“Firstofall,whothefuckisBecca?”Heroundedthecarthenstartedit.
“Areyouserious?”Ahystericallaughbubbledfrommythroat.“Beccaisthewomanyoutooktothecharityevent.”
HedroveawayfromtheBackBayandoutsidecitylimits.Boston’sskylineslidawaythroughthewindows,givingwaytowildland.ItmadesensethatSamwantedtolielowfortonight,butwhatdidthatmean?Werewegoingtostaytogether,whereveritwas?Wherewashetakingme?
“IthoughthernamewasBella,”hesaid.
“Nope,”Isnapped.
“Atanyrate,yes,partofthereasonwhyI’dnevertakeawifeisbecausewatchinganinnocentwomandiebecauseofmeisnotonmyto-dolist.”
“Sparrowdidn’tdie,”Ipointedout.
“Troywasafixer.Amostlygoodguydoingbadstuff.I’manunderboss.Anall-aroundmonster.IdabbleinmanythingsandhaveenoughbloodonmyhandstofillupyourOlympic-sizedpool.”
“Whereareyoutakingme?”Iasked,tiredofbeingrepeatedlyremindedhowfarfromtherealmsofcommitmentSamwas.Hedidn’twantawife,afamily,children;eventhoughheprotectedme,preventedmefromdyingtonight,itwasmoreabouthisnewlyfoundmoralcodethanhisaffectiontowardme.
“TheBrennancabin.”Samtappedacigarettepackflatagainsthismuscularthigh,fishingoneandtuckingitintothesideofhismouth.“Anicereprieveforyoufromyourfamily.”
“Yeah…”Iturnedmyheadtothewindow“…Ialreadyfeelsomuchmorerelaxed.”
Samchuckled,lightinguphiscigarette,yetagainignoringmyacutedisapprovalofwhathewasdoingtohisbody.
“Yousavedmetonight,”Isaidthroatily,bracingmyselffordisappointmentwhenheshutmedown.Iknewhewould,too.SamBrennandidn’tallowhimselftofeelanything.Especiallytowardwomen.
Hiseyesremainedfixatedontheroad.
“Why?”Idemanded.
“Becauseyou’remyboss’daughter.”
“Youdon’tcareaboutmyfather,”Isaid.
“True.ButIdocareabouthismoney.I’monthefasttracktobecomingoneoftherichestmeninBoston.Keepingyouprotectedisinmybestinterest.”
“Soithadnothingtodowithme,”Imuttered.
WhywasIdoingthistomyself?Why?
“Nonewhatsoever,Nix.IwoulddothesameforHunter.ForCillian.Evenforyourderangedmother.Youarebusinesstome,sweetheart.Withasideofpleasureeverynowandagain.”
Ididn’tsayanotherwordtheentirejourney.
I’dalreadyheardeverythingIneededtoknow.
Sammayhavebeenagoodunderboss,buthewasaterriblepotentialrealtor.
Hewasbeingmodestcallingtheplaceacabin.Itwasmoreofaranch,onelikemybrother,Cillian,owned.Itwassmack-dabinthemiddleofthewoods.
Theplacewassoremote,therewasn’tevenapavedpathwayforthecartogetthere.ThePorschetrudgedthroughgravelandsleetthelastfewmilestogettothefrontdoor.
Samgotoutofthecarandthrewthedooropenforme.Ifollowedhiminsideashebeganflickingthelightson.Heturnedonthecentralheating,scanningthelivingroomandopen-plankitchenforanysignsofabreak-in.
Theplacewasfreezing.First,Itendedtothewoundinhisarm.Removedthebulletanddidsomelightstitches.Then,Ihuggedmyself,realizingallofasuddenthatitwasthemiddleofthenight—twomaybethreeinthemorning—andIstillhadn’thadlunch,dinner,orashower.ThelastthingIatewasaNature’sValleygranolabarinthemorning,andaswewereallaware,thosebarstendedtocrumblesobadlyyouonlyconsumedaboutthirtypercentofthem.Mystomachgrowled,demandingtobefed,givingzeroF’saboutthelifeordeathsituationI’djustescaped.
“I’llseewhatwehaveinthefridge,”Samsaidwithoutturningaround,andmyskinprickledwithheatwhenIrealizedhemust’veheardmystomach.
Asitturnedout,therewasabsolutelynothinginthefridge.
Theheatingwastakingtoolong—maybeitwasbroken;Samsaidtheplacehadn’tbeenoccupiedinyears—soasfarasarelaxingretreatwent,thisresortgotonestarandascathingreviewonYelp.
“You’llhavetosettleforsomethingcanned,”Samclipped.“Refriedbeans.”
“Idon’tknowhowtomakethem.”Istoodontheoppositesideoftheroom,lookingdown,humbledbymyownprivilege.
Samspuninmydirection.“Youdon’tknowhowtoheatacanofrefriedbeans?”
“I’mguessingyoudoitwithoutthecan.”Ilookedsideways,wantingtodieofembarrassment.
“Youmademechickensoup,”heremindedme.Inoddedseriously.
“Ms.Bhadtaughtmehowtomakeit.It’stheonlythingIknowhowtomakebecauseitwastheonlythingshecouldkeepdownwhenshewassick.Ican’tevenmakeanomelet.”
Withagrowl,Samopenedatinofrefriedbeansusinghismetalkey,tossingthecan-shapedcongealedbeansintoapan.Itlookedaboutasappetizingasfreshmanureandsmelledsimilar.Still,Istoodclosetohimashepreparedthefood,mainlytocatchthewarmthofthefirecomingfromthestove.Iatestraightfromthepan.Itwashorrible,butIknewbetterthantocomplain.IimaginedcannedfoodwasaluxuryforhimbeforetheBrennansofficiallyadoptedhim.Ihadnorighttocomplain.
Asforme,IsuspectedthiswasthefirsttimeI’deatenanythingfromacan.Ialwayshadfoodmadefromscratch,preparedbyourcookwhousedfreshproduce,seasonalvegetablesandfruit,andherbs.
OfcourseIdidn’tsharethiswithSam.Already,hemockinglyreferredtomeasaprincess.Therewasnoneedtogivehimanymoreammo.
“Theheatingisnotworkingproperly.Ithinkatthispoint,it’sagiven.”Itookthepantothesinkandbegantorinseitclean.Thewaterwasfreezingcold.Samsatatthediningtableacrossfromme,lookingmildlyentertained.Ithinkhetookjoyfromwatchingmedoeverydaychores.LittledidheknowIwasmymother’smaid.
“Myapologies.There’saWaldorfAstoriaacrosstheroad,”hedrawled.
“Veryfunny.Thanksfortheridehome,bytheway.Highlyappreciated,”Isaidsarcastically,dryingthepanandputtingitbackinthecupboardwhereitbelonged.Thereweresomerefriedbeansstillstucktoit.Callitmylittlerevenge.IlikedtotakemywinswhereIcouldgetthem.
“Stopbeingabrat.”Histonehadanedgenow.
“Why?It’sexactlywhatyouexpectfromme,”Isniffed.“Admitit.Youthinktheworstofmeandmyparents.AndwhileIsuspectyoudon’thatemybrothers,youarefarfromtherealmofrespectingthem.”
Ratherthanansweringmewithwords,Samgotup,snatchedafewthrowsfromthecouch,andstompedintooneoftherooms.
“Masterbedroomisthefirstdoortoyourright.Don’tbothertryingtoseducemeinthemiddleofthenight.Ifuckedyououtofmysystemanddon’tneedarepeat.”
Iwatchedhisbackretreat,stunnedwithhisbrashness.Heslammedthedoorbehindhim.Iwonderedwhyhe’dgivenmethemasterbedroomandnottheextraone.
Because,moncheri,eventhoughhesayshedoesn’tlikeyou,Isuspecthereallyquitedoes.
ItwasthefirsttimeMs.BandIweren’tincompleteagreement.
Shakingmyhead,Icarriedmypursetothemasterbedroom,slippingundertheblankets,whichwerecoldasiceanddidnothingtowarmmeup.
Forthenexthour,Itossedandturned,staringatthepatternedceiling,wonderinghowthey’ddecoratedit.
Sleepdidn’tcome,evenwhenIwilledit,beggedforit.Adrenalineranthroughmybloodstreamlikepoison.
ThebrushupwiththeBratva.
Samsavingme.
Thewayhe’drejectedmebeforeI’devenofferedmyselfup,allwhilecookingmedinnerandgivingmethemasterbedroom.
Washemyprotectororadversary?
IwastiredofsortingthroughhismixedsignalslikeitwasHalloweencandy,separatinghisactionsbybrand,intent,andflavor.
Whateverhisreasonsmightbefortreatingmethisway,Iintendedtokeepawayfromhim.
Iwastiredofchasinghimaround.Eventhoughhe’ddonehisfairshareofshoweringmewithaverse,coldattentioneverytimehewantedtogetinmypants,therewasalwaysastaticundercurrentbetweenus.Iwasthepursuer,andhewasthesomewhatamused,preciousprize.Hetossedmearoundandplayedwithmewheneverhehadafewminutestoburnbutalwayswentbacktoignoringmyexistence.
Thishadgoneonforadecade,reachingitspeakthesepastweeks.
AndIknew,withaclaritythatstolemybreathaway,thatIcouldspendthenextdecadebeinghiscasualplaythingjustaseasilyifIletithappen.
ButIwasn’tateenageranymore.Ihadaspirations.Dreams.Goals.
Itwastimetocutthecord.NotjustwithSambutwitheveryoneelseinmylifewhoassumedI’dcatertotheireveryneedandwhim.
AnhourandsomechangeafterItuckedmyselfintobed,Iheardthedoortothemasterbedroomcreakopen.Irolledinbed,turningtowardthedoor.
Samstoodonthethreshold,fullyclothedinhissuit,hishairatousledmess,likeheranhishandthroughitathousandtimes.
“Fine.I’llfuckyouonelasttime.”
Irolledontomyback,sighingasIwhisperedtotheceiling.
“Romeo,ohRomeo,whereforeartthou?”
Hechuckled,steppinginside,interpretingmysarcasmasinvitation.
Whywouldn’the?I’dneverdeniedhimanything.NotwhenheintendedtosleepwithsomeoneelsethenightIshowedupathisapartment.Andnotatthecharityevent,whenhebroughtadatewholookedfreakishlysimilartome.
Andtriedtosleepwithher,too.
“This’llbethelasttime,Fitzpatrick.Afarewell.There’sareasonwhyyourbrotherspaymeextranottotouchyou,andyoujustgotatasteofittonight.I’llmakeyourlifealivinghellandashortlivinghellatthat.”
“Newsflash,Sam,you’realreadydoingthat.”
HeshiftedcloserbutstillfarenoughthatIrealizedthatdespiteeverything—whohewas,whathedid,thegeneralcallousnessofhim—hewaswaitingforanexplicitoffer.Hedidn’twanttopounceandtakemeonhisownterms.Hewantedmetocometohimwillingly,desperately,lovingly.
Neitherofusmadeamove.
Ididn’tinvitehimintomybed.
Hedidn’tleavetheroom.
Mythoughtsswirledaroundinmyheadlikethesnowstormoutside,andIdugmyheelsintothemattress,refusingtogiveintotheurgetofeelhisbodyovermine,hisskinagainstmyown,hishot,sweetbreatheverywhere.HisheatwasirresistibleinmorewaysthanIcouldcount.
“Well?”hespatout,allbutsneering.“AmIgoingtostandhereforlong?”
Kickingofftheblankets,Idartedpasthim,outthedoor.Hewhirled,hisbrowspinchinginafrown,followingmetothelivingroom.
Iploppeddownonthecarpet,jammingmyfeetintomysneakers,lacingup.
“Whatareyoudoing?”hegrowled.
“I’mtired,Sam.Tiredofyou.Tiredofus.Tiredofthiscatandmousegame.There’sonlysomuchpushandpullIcantoleratebeforeitgetsrepetitiveandabusive.Youwantme?You’llhavetogetme.Thehardway.I’mgoingtorun,andyouaregoingtocatchme.Ifyoudon’t,you’vemissedyourchance.Howaboutthemapples?”
HestaredatmelikeIwascrazy.
Itwasnighttime,andwewereinthemiddleofthewoods,inthemidstofanever-endingsnowstorm,withnocellularreception,noheat,andnofood.
Hehadapoint.
Scoopingmyphone,Islidmyarmsintothelongplushsleevesofmycoat.Samstoodthere,motionless,watchingme.
“You’renotroamingthewoods,”hesaiddryly.
“Youcan’ttellmewhattodo,Brennan.You’rethehiredhelp,”Ispatout,bitternessexplodingonmytongue.Iwashurtingbecauseofhim,soIwantedtohurthimback.
ThatwastheexcuseIgavemyself,anyway,yetitdidn’tmakemefeelanylesshorrible.
Itwasprobablyexhaustingtobehim.Toconstantlylookforpeople’sweaknesses,pressthemwhereithurt,andneverallowyourselftobeexposed.
Theword‘help’seemedtosethimoff.Hepouncedonmesoquicklyhismovementswereablurasheslammedmeagainstthefloor,mybackplasteredagainsttheparquetwood.Hisarmsbracketedmeoneithersideofmyhead.Hisbodywasflushagainstmine.Itriedtokickhiminthegroin,buthedodgedmeeasily.
“Idon’tfuckingthinkso,Nix.Youdon’tgettocallmethehelpandlivetotellthetaleunharmed.”
Feelingmyeyesflaring,IwassurprisedtodiscoverIdidn’tfearhim.Iknewhewasn’tgoingtohurtme.Notphysically,anyway.Afterall,hesaidithimself—hiskingdomwasontheline.Hisfatewasentwinedwithmyfamily’s.Thiswasthewayithadalwaysbeen.
ItboggledmymindthatI’deverthoughthewouldstandagainstmyfatherandmybrothers.Insistonbeingwithme.Evenifhehatedmyfamily,hestillneededit.Formoremoneyandpower.WewerehisdoortoBoston’suppercrust,andhewasn’tgoingtoletitslaminhisface.Notbecauseofme.
Ifthemeninmyfamilypaidhimtokeephishandsoffofmeandfoundoutwhatwedidinsecret,inthedark,itwouldbetheendoftheirbusinessrelationship.
Ialsowouldn’tputitpastSamandCilliantotrytokilleachother.
“Youcan’tharmmemorethanyoualreadyhave,youfool.”Iwrithedunderneathhim,attemptingtopushhimaway.“Unfortunately,I’dneverbeabletohurtyouthewayyouhurtme,butatleastIcanstoplovingyou.”
“Don’tbesosureaboutthat,”hesaidgrimly,reachingforhisbootandyankingoutasmalldagger.Hetookmyfingersandcurledthemaroundthehandle.Hedirectedmyhandtothecenterofhisthroat.
“Youwanttohurtme?Goahead.Youshouldknowwheremycarotidis,Doc.”
Islidthebladeacrosshisneck,tothepulsingarterycallingforme,faintblueagainsthisendless,smoothbrownskin.Myhandsshookandmyteethchattered
Hiseyesboreintomine.“Nowbeagoodmonsterandkillme,Nix.”
Itriedtopokethebladeagainsthisskin,topushitthrough,tocuthim,evenashallownick,butIcouldn’t.Icouldn’tinflictpainonhim.Icaughtmylowerlipbetweenmyteeth,struggling,panting,tryingdesperatelytopushthrough,tomakehimbleed.
Ishookallover.
Theknifefelltothefloorwithadullthudbesideus.
“Ican’t!”Iroared.“Ican’thurtyou,nomatterhowmuchIhateyou.AndIdohateyou.BecauseIloveyou.Iloveyouandyoutreatmelikegarbage.Whatdoyouwantmetosay?ThatI’mjealousofyourdreamsbecauseyoubelongtothematnight?BecauseIam.Icannotbreathe,eat,orblinkwithoutthinkingaboutyou,SamBrennan.You’veconqueredeveryinchofmebeforeyou’deventouchedme.Afteryoudid,thingsgotworse.Wayworse.I’vealwayslovedyou,Monster,butthemoreIgettoknowyou,themoreIwishIdidn’t.”
Gettingitoutthere,intheopen,feltlikesheddingold,deadskin.EvenifIknewIwasputtingmyselfinapositionofweakness,IwasstillhappythatIdid.
Ifmyconfessionstirredanythinginsidehim,Samdidn’tletitshow.
Infact,hemadeitapointtokeepmyarmspinnedwithonehandashejerkeddownhisslacks,kickingmylegsopenandpushingmypantsdown.
“Rape?That’stheonlythingyouhaven’tdonetomeyet,”Ispatinhisface,seething.Havinghimwasatorturebecauseitremindedmehewouldneverbemine.
Hestoppedundressingus.
“YouthinkI’llrapeyou?”Hiseyeswerehooded,thehintofasneeronhisface.
“Iknowyouwill,ifyouenterme,”Ikeptmyvoicesteady,“becauseIdon’twantyoutotouchme.”
“Thenwhatthefuckwasthatlovedeclarationasecondago?”
“Aconfession,notaninvitation,youmoron.Idon’ttrustyou.Idon’tknowwhatyouwantfromme.I’mnotevensurewhatpartyouplayinmylife.MyfatherisMIA.Mymotherisanaddictandacutter.Mybrothersleftmewiththismess.AndtheonlythingIknowforsureisthatthepersonI’vebeenpiningforoveradecadedoesn’twantmebackbutiswillingtoplaywithmewheneverittickleshisfancy.I’mdone.”Ishookmyhead.“Letmego.Idon’twantthisanymore.”
Westaredateachother.Heknewthistimewasdifferentfromalltheothers.BecausealltheothertimesItriedtomakelightofthings,toplayfullybanterwithhimwhiledrawingcloserandclosertohim.
Now,Iwantedtoleave.
“You’reserious,”herasped.
Ijerkedmyheadinanod.
Hesatupandletmego,allowingmetoscurrybackwardtowardthewall.Ituggedmypantsup.
Thetruthofmystatementhitmeallatonce.
Iwasdonewithhisgames.Donewithgivinghimwhathewanted,wheneverhewantedit.Donehopinghewouldsomedaywakeupandrealizehecaredforme,too.
Hestoodupandstaredatme,blinkingsomberly,likeI’djustslappedhimintheface.Maybeitfeltthatway.IdoubtedamanlikeSamwasusedtohearingtheword‘no.’
“We’redone?”heasked,businesslike.Theicyedgetohisvoicemademeshiver.
“Yes,”Isaid,quicklyretyingmyshoelaces.“Leavemealone.Don’tshowupatmyclinicanymoreanddon’tstealkissesfrommewhenweseeeachotheratfamilyfunctions.”
“Why?BecauseIdon’tloveyouback?”
Helettheword‘love’rolloutofhismouthlikeitwasprofanity.Ilickedmylips.Dawnwasbreakingoutsidebeyondthepinetrees,andtheroombegantowashwithcoolpinksandroyalblues,theshadowsframinghisfacemakinghimlookevenmorebreathtakinglybeautifulthanusual.
“No.Icanhandleitifyoudon’tlovemeback.ButIwon’tacceptindifference,humiliation,andunstableness.Iamnotyourplaything.Thelittleteenybopperwhostaredatyouwithstarryeyesatacarnival.Thosedaysareover.Ideserverespectandconsideration,andyouknowwhat?Ichangedmymind.”Ifrownedthenbegantolaugh.Athroaty,screechylaugh,notevencaringhowunhingedIlookedanymore.“Yes.Idon’twanttohavesexwithyouanymorebecauseyoudon’tlovemeback.Isthatbad?Immature?Anti-feminist?Iexpectlove.Iwantitall,soifyoudon’tintendtogiveittome,IsuggestyouleavemebeorIamgoingtotellmyfamilyhowyoudippedyourhandintothehoneyjar,tastedtheforbiddensweetness,thencamebackforthirdandfourthhelpings.”
“ItoldyouIwillneversettledown.”
“Thenthatmeansyouarelettingmego.”
Henoddedonce,saunteringovertothedoorandthrowingitopen.Achillrushedintothecabin,bitingandclaimingeveryinchofmyexposedskin.
“LoveisnotapriceIamwillingtopayforpussy,nomatterhowtightandaristocratic.Goodbye,Aisling.”
Hewaslettingmego.
MaybeIwasonarollbecauseofmyownspeech,orperhapstheadrenalinestillpumpedinmyblood,butallatonce,Igatheredmycourage,stoodup,grabbedmypurse,andfledoutthedoor.
Hedidn’tchaseme.Iknewhewouldn’t.
MenlikeSamneverdid.
IfollowedthefainttiresignsofthePorschetofindmywayoutofthewoods,clutchingmycellphoneinadeathgrip.Islippedseveraltimes,andmykneesandhandsweresoakedwithmeltedsnow.WhenIreachedthemainroad,IcalledanUberthencontinuedwalking.Thefoolish,desperatehopeflaringinmychestthatSamwouldfindmeshrankmoreandmorewitheachstepItook.
Mytoeswerenumb,myfingershadfrostbite,andIcouldfeelmyselfcomingdownwithsomething.
Iplayedwiththemonsterundermybedandfeltthewrathofitsclawsonmyskin.
Thiswasallonme.
Butthatdidn’tmeanIhadtoputupwithitanymore.
Itwaslikemyloveforhimhadsnuffedoutafterteeteringonthebrinkofdeathforawhile.Alovethatstartedasasun-shapedblazewhenIwasseventeen,bigandhotandimpossibletoextinguish,butastimepassed,Sam’sactionsdousedwateronituntiltherewasbarelyanythingleft.
IslippedintothebackofanUber,thinkingaboutthatnightatthecarnival.
AboutthetextI’dseenscribbledonthatbathroom.
Maybeitwasn’tmeantforme.
Maybeitwasmeantforsomeonewithahappyending.
AfewdaysafterAislingfledthecabin,Troybreezedintomyoffice,tossinganewspaperontomydesk.
“Checkmate.”
IwassittinginfrontofapileofExcelspreadsheets,tryingtoconcentrateonthesimpletaskoffindingawaytohelpaclientlaunderacoupleofmillions.Normally,Icoulddoitwithmyeyesclosed,handstied,anddickburieddeepinsidearandom.Shufflethesumfromplacetoplace.Blowupexpenses.Tamperwithbankstatements.MakingmoneyuntraceablewasanartformI’dperfectedfromayoungage.Itmademeadarlingincertaincorporatecircles.Nothingboughtyourwayintoarichman’sheartbetterthanhelpinghimscrewtheIRSover.
Theselastfewdays,however,myheadwassodeepinsidemyass,IwassurprisedIdidn’tdropdeadfromlackofoxygen.Mythoughtswereonaloop,gettingstuckonthesamethingoverandoveragain.
IsavedAisling.
Putmylifeindangertokeepherfromharm’sway.
Andwhatdidthebitchdo?Sheturnedmedownandcutmeoff.
IglancedatthenewspaperTroythrewatmydesk.Theheadlinesmearedincheap,blackink.
Busted!BillionaireGeraldFitzpatrick’sMistressWritesanExplosiveTell-All!
BarbaraMcAllister’stestimoniescouldbeagamechangerfortheroyalAmericanfamily.Thecompany’sstockhasdroppedsignificantlysinceyesterday.
Itdidnothingtoimprovemysourmood,eventhoughIknew,inallprobability,thatGeraldwasonthevergeofhurlinghimselfoutthewindowfromtheskyscraperhewascurrentlyholedupin.
Troyfellintotheseatinfrontofme,loungingback,rollingatoothpickinhismouth.
“TimeforaquickandefficientK.O.,Sam.IwillnotsithereandwatchyoudestroyaperfectlygoodfamilyjustbecauseyouhaveabonerforGerald’sblood.Don’tforgetyoursister’smarriageandhappinessisontheline,too.YouaretakingthisGodcomplextoofar.”
“There’snothingcomplicatedaboutmygodlygifttodistributepain.I’mmerelygivingGeraldwhathedeserves.”Idroppedmypen,sittingback.“He—”
“Yes,Iknow.Killedyourunbornbrother.Madeyourmotherleaveyoubehind.NooneispropositioningGeraldFitzpatrickforknighthood.”Troyraisedhispalmup,cuttingthroughmywords.“Yethereyouare,aliveandfuckingwell,muchtotheBratva’schagrin.Thismeanswhateverdamageheinflictedonyoudidn’tfinishthejob.Sowhydon’tyougetitoverwith,givehimthefinalblow,callitevenandmoveon?”
BecausethenI’llhavetofacemyotherFitzpatrickproblem.
ThepressingoneI’vebeentryingtoignoreforweeks.
Theirdaughter.
Aislingstayedfarawayfrommesinceshefledthecabininthemiddleofthenightlikeadumbhorrorflicksidecharacter,thefirsttogetmurderedtenminutesintothefilm.
IknewshesurvivedourlittleshowdownbecauseIdrovebyherclinicthefollowingafternoon,justtomakesureshehadn’tbeenchoppedupbyanaxemurdereronherwayoutofthewoods.
HerPriuswasparkedinfrontofthemaindoor.Shewasalive,evenifnotwell.
Consequently,shewasalsodonewithmyass.
“Iwantaconfession,”Iinsisted.
“AndIwanttofuckmywifetenhoursaday.Guesswhat?Lookslikewe’rebothnotgettingwhatwewant,”Troysnapped.“WhatmakesyouthinkGeraldiswillinglygoingtocometoyouandtellyouallabouthowhefuckedyourmotherthenfuckedyouover?”Troystoodup,spittinghistoothpickonthefloor.“Growthefuckup,Sam.Yourstorydoesn’taddup,andfrankly,witheachpassingday,I’mstartingtothinkthere’smoretothisthanyou’relettingon.You’venevergivenadamnaboutCat,andyes,sheleftyou,butshe’dtriedtocontactyouandyoushutherdownwithoutablinkofaneye.It’snotthefirsttimeyou’vebeenwrongedbyoneofyourclients.Youareapragmaticperson.Youtakethingsinstride.ThisisapartofyouIdon’tknowanddon’tcaretodiscover.Emotional,messy,andaboveall—strategicallyfaulty.Youareabouttomakesomeprettygravemistakesifyouarenotcareful.Icanseeit.BeupfrontwithGeraldordropitaltogether.Butthisisthelastprankyoupullonhim.Yoursisterismarriedtohisson,andnowthatHunterandCillianarewatchingtheirmotherandpayingattention,they’llbeonyourtailinnotime.Youunderstand?”
“Areyoudone?”Iasked,sittingperfectlystillinmyseat,rejectinganysentimentthatstemmedfromTroylookingroyallyandthoroughlypissedatme.Thiswasafirst.We’dhadourargumentsbefore,ofcoursewehad,butwealwaysendedupseeingeyetoeye.Notthistime.“Becauseifso,youknowwherethefuckingdooris.I’msorrythestudentoutdidthemaster,butsometimes,oldman,that’sjustthewayitis.”
Hestaredatmewithalookofcompletedisbelief.Despitemyself,Ifeltmystomachroiling,turningoverandover,likeitwasfoldingintoasmallorigamisquare.
Heofferedmeanoncommittalgruntanddashedaway,leavingthefaintscentofhiscologneandahellofaheadlineonthenewspaper.
IturnedmyattentionbacktotheExcelsheet,noticing,forthefirsttime,acompanytriptotheMaldivesIcouldusetomaxouttheexpensesproportion.Aneasyeight-hundred-thousand-dollarholeinthebudgettothrowtheIRSoff.
Istartedmakingthenecessarymoves.
Geraldwouldpayforwhathedidwithhisblood.
Evenifitcostmemyrelationshipwithmyadoptivefather.
Afterworkingintotheweehours,Istoppedbythecardroomsagain,checkingonthetables,makingsureweweremakingkillerprofitsbeforelockingupmyofficedoor.
ThenightturnedfromblacktobluebythetimeImademywaytomy(newlyfixed)Porsche.Iunlockedthedoorsandputmyhandonthehandlewhenthecoldbarrelofagundugbetweenmyshoulderblades,bitingintomyskin.
Thevoicethatcameafteritwasunmistakable.
IwouldrecognizeitanywherebecauseI’dspentnearlyadecadelisteningtoitwail.
“Busted,kiddo.”
Gerald.
“Nowgetintothecar,niceandeasy.I’lltakethepassenger’sseat,”heinstructed,hisvoiceandthegunquakingwithbothadrenalineandfear.
Iliftedmyhandshaphazardly,smirking.
“Doyouevenknowhowtouseagun,Gerry?”
“Don’tcallmeGerry.”Hedugthemetalintomyskin.“MynameisGerald.You’retheonlypersontocallmeGerry,andIdespiseit.IonlyletyougetawaywithitbecauseIthoughtitwasatermofendearment.”
“Youwerewrong,”Ideadpanned.
“Tellmeabout.Inthecar.Now.Nofunnybusiness.Iwillshoottokill,Brennan.You’veleftmewithnothing.Notmyfamily,notmybusiness,andnotmypride.”
IslidintothePorschecalmly,notbreakingasweat.Myfearofbeingshotbyhimwassomewherebelowzero.Firstly,becauseIdidn’tthinkhehadthegutstopullthetrigger,and,secondly,becauseevenifhedidshoot,whichwasunlikely,hewouldmiss.Hedidn’thaveasteadyhand,andallIneededwasonesmallerrortosnatchthegunfrombetweenhissweatyfingers.
Thirdly,andmostimportantly,Ididn’tcareifIdied.Ineverwasmuchofafanoflivinginthefirstplace.Ienjoyedveryfewthings,andoneofthemwasGerald’sdaughter,whodidnotwantanythingtodowithmeanymore.Myfault,ofcourse,forpushingheraway,knowingbeyondreasonabledoubtthatherfamilywouldneverletherflauntthehelpinhighsociety.
“Putthegundown,Gerry.I’lltakeustoyourapartment,butnotbecauseyou’rethreateningmewithagun.Icangrabitfromyoublindfoldedwithmyarmstiedbehindmyback.I’llcomewillinglybecauseI’minterestedinwhatyouhavetosayandhowmuchyouknow,”Isaid,myvoicesoakedwithamusement.Itwashightimewehadaconversationaboutwhatmattered.
“B-b-bullshit!”hestuttered.“YouwilldoasIsaybecauseI—”
Ihadnointerestinlettinghimfinishthatsentence.Iturnedaroundquickly,elbowingthegunandsendingitcareeningacrosstheroad.Geraldletoutahigh-pitchedmoanofsurprise,makingabeelinetoseizeit,squattingdowntotheground.Iwastaller,leaner,andfaster.Isaunteredmywaytohimashebentdowntotaketheweapon,pressedmyloaferontohishand—breakingafewsmallbonesintheprocess,nodoubt—justashisfingerscurledaroundthebaseofthegun.
Ismackedmylipstogether.
“Yourichpricksaren’tverygoodatlistening.”
“YouwilldoasIsay,goddammit!”Hewiggledundermyfootdesperately.Igrabbedhimbytheshirt,dragginghimtowardmycarashekickedandgruntedinannoyance,pocketinghisgunaftercheckingifitwascocked(shocker:itwasnot)
IhurledGeraldinsideandslammedthedoor,gettingintothedriver’sseatnexttohimandstartingthecar.
“Whereto?”Igrumbled.
“Thepenthouse.TheoneHunterandSailorlivedinbeforemovingintotheirownhouse.”
Inodded,noticingthatheshookbesideme.Unbelievable.Iputhisdaughterthroughsomuchshit,andshealwaysgavemeonehellofafight.Butthisguy,hecouldn’tevensitstillwithoutwantingtopisshispants.Ididn’tknowwhereAislinggotherstrength,butitsurewasn’tfromherfuckingparents.
WhenwegottothepenthouseandGeraldpushedthedooropenandstartedhisverbaldiarrhea,Ipressedmyfingertomymouththenstartedlookingaroundthelivingroomtoseeifitwasbugged.AsfarasIcouldtell,itwasn’t.Isatatthediningtable,smilingsardonicallyathim.
“Youmaycontinuewithyourmeltdownnow,Gerry.”
Geralderectedhimselftohisfullheight,juttinghischinout,tryingtoappearbraverthanhewas.Theweightlossmadehimslightlylessdeplorablephysically,butIstillknewthatbehindtheexteriorwasamanwhodeservedaslowandpainfuldeath.
“You’vebeencaught,SamBrennan.Isetatrapforyou,andyoufellforit,”Geraldboasted,stillstandingup,forsomereasonbeyondmygrasp.
“Youalreadysaid,”Iyawned.“Caretoelaborate?”
Geraldleanedforward,pressinghisfingerstotheoakdiningtableashespoke.
“WhenyouaskedmetogiveyoualistofallthewomenI’dhadanaffairwith,Igotsuspicious.Itseemedfarfetched,andastimewentbyandyoudraggedyourfeetaboutmylittleproblem,Igotevenmoresuspicious.You’dneverfailedamissionI’dgivenyoubefore,andsuddenly,youdidn’thaveasmuchasalead.Icouldn’tunderstandwhyyouleftmetodrown.Thenthepoisoninghappened.Andthecufflinks…”
“Christ,Gerry,Iwastherewhenallofthishappened.Gettothejuicypart.Mytimeisprecious.”Ilookedaround,wonderingifhehadanygoodcoffee.
Hestraightenedhisspine.
“Aislingmademedoit.Shetoldhermotherandmewhattodo,thatwaywecouldknowforsure.”
“Madeyoudowhat?”Ispatout,losingpatience.
Thementionofhernamemademenauseous.Thiswasoutrageous.Icouldn’tbenauseous.Iwasn’tafuckingdamselindistress.
“Plantabug.Amole.Atrap.See,Aislingsaidthattheonlywaytooutsmartyouistobeatyouatyourowngame.Together,wefoundawomanfrommypast—BarbaraMcAllister,inthiscase—andhadherassistus.Weknewifyoucontactedher,thatwouldmeanthatyouwereaftermythroatandnotthosewhoharmedme.”
Istaredathim,speechless.
Aislingplayedme.
Andshefuckingwon,too.
Shelovedme,yes,butnotsomuchthatshewasblindedbymyactions.
Evenmorethanheraffectionsforme,shewasloyaltoherfamily,andhellifitdidn’tmakememissherevenmore.
“Thenewspaper—”Istarted.
Geraldshookhishead,walkingovertothecoffeetable,pickingupwhatlookedtobetoday’snewspaper,tossingitintomyhands.Ipickeditupandglancedattheheadline.
KeatonHintsatFiringClaybornAfterElections:What’sNextfortheWhiteHouse?
Motherfucker.
“Theheadlinewasfake.”Iletthewordschurninmymouth,decidingIfuckinghatedhowtheytasted.
Geraldploppeddownnexttome,rubbingathisfacetiredlyashereachedforawhiskeywithtwotumblersatthecenterofthetable,pouringusdrinks.Itookoutapackofcigarettesandlitoneup,makingmyselfcomfortable.Thisbullshitwasn’tgoingtobeoveranytimesoon.
“Quite.”Henudgedmydrinkinmydirection,hisfingersstilltrembling.“Ididn’tbelieveAislingwhenshesaidyouwereprobablyadoubleagent,soIcametoseeyouafewtimesatBadlands.Eachtime,Iturnedaround,losingmynerve.ButInoticedthesamenewspaperwasrolledandleftattheentranceeachtime,soIfiguredthatwasyourmediaoutletofchoice.Fromthere,fakingaheadlinewasn’ttoohard.”
ThenTroypickeditupattheentrancetomyclub,onhiswayin,andshowedittome.
Goddammit,Nix,you’reacleverone.
“Now,BarbaraMcAllisterisacollegefriend.Sheisnotatallwhatyoubelievedhertobe.Butforthepurposesofhelpingme,sheputonashow.Hersisterhasanaddressinashitholepartofthecity.Iaddedhernameinthelease,knowingyouwouldfindher,seethepovertysheso-calledlivesin,anddecidetopressherbecausesheiseasyprey,”Geraldcontinued.
“AislingsaidthatifIgaveyouinformationthatdidn’tmatchwhatyou’dfindonyourown,it’draisearedflagandyou’dtakethebait.Shewasright.”
“DidyoudecidetodoallthisordidAsh?”Itseemedlikeasophisticatedoperation,andGeraldwasonlygoodformanagingacompanythat’dbeenhandedtohimbyhisownfather.Eventhat,hehalf-assed.CillianwasamuchbetterCEOthanGeraldeverwas,somethingGeraldsecretlyresentedhissonfor.
“Well,Aislingdid,blessherheart.Sheismychildthroughandthrough,thatone.Sodelicatelycunning.Sosmart.”
Sohot.
ThoughIdoubtedhe’dappreciatethatspecificinput.
Geraldtookasipofhisdrink,hisshouldersrollingashevisiblyrelaxed.
“AislingknewBarbarawouldstandoutwithherzipcode.Wewantedtoensureyou’dapproachher,sowemadecertainheraddressledtoatrailerpark.Youtookthebait.WhenyoucalledBarbara,AislingandIinstructedherbeforehand.Whattosay.Howtoact.Wecouldn’tchanceherblowinghercover.Shedidaremarkablejob,didn’tshe?Andbytheendoftheday,youwerealreadyonthephonewithpublishinghousesandliteraryagents,hookingherupwithpeoplewhowantedtohearherstoryaboutthesordidGeraldFitzpatrick.ThenewJeffreyEpstein,right?Thefallfromgraceofthetycoonwhowantedtoomuchfromtoomany.”
Thiswasprettymuchspot-on,soIcouldn’tdisputeit.IplayedintoAsh’shands,andevenwhenwe’dmet,evenwhenI’dbeenballsdeepinsideher,whenshecriedmyname,whenshetoldmeshelovedme,whensheofferedmeherselfonasilverplatter,shestillplottedagainstme.
Triedtouncoverthetruth.
Wasanactiveparticipantinourmentalchessgame.
“Wegotthreeoffersfromthreedifferentpublishinghouses,”Isaidtersely,tryingtounderstandhowtheymanagedtocoverthelastpartoftheirplan.
Thiswaswhytheheadlinemadesense.BecauseBarbaratoldmeshehadtakenoneofthedeals.Thatshewasgoingtowritethetell-all.TheplanwastohaveGeraldbegmetostepin.I,inturn,wouldhaveaconfessionfromhim,throwmyweightalittlearoundBarbara,payhertokeephermouthshut,andthewholethingwouldbecanceled.
Then,dependingonGerald’sversionofwhatwentdownbetweenhimandCat,IplannedtoshedsomeFitzpatrickblood.Notalot.Justenoughtosatisfymybloodthirstynature.
“Youdidn’tgetanofferfromanyone.”Geraldshookhishead.“YourcallstothepublisherswentstraighttoEmmabellePenrose’sphone.”
Icouldfeelmyfacemorphfromangertodisgust.IwasplayednotonlybyAsh,butbythatairheadedBarbie.
Asifhearingmyinternalthoughts,Geraldofferedaquicknod.
“Aislingdidn’twantyoutorecognizehervoice.ShehadyourcallsredirectedtoEmmabelle’sphoneeachtimeyoumadeaninquiry.Andoncetheso-calledcontractbetweenBarbaraandthepublishinghouseofherchoicewassigned,youwereoutoftheloop.Youonlyeversawthecontract.Youdidn’tactuallyspeaktoanyofthepeopleBarbarahadspokento.”
Thatwastrue.TheminuteIhookedBarbaraMcAllisterupwithaso-calledliteraryagent—whowasprobablyEmmabelle,too—Isteppedasideandtendedtomyownbusiness,secureinthenotioneverythingwouldrunsmoothly.
“HowdidAshredirectthecallstoBelle?”InarrowedmyeyesatGerald.Everythingseemedtooflawlesstobedonewithoutanyhelp.
Geraldsmiledasmilethatsankintothepitofmyfuckingstomach.
No.
“Yes,”Geraldreplied,andIrealizedIsaidthewordoutloud.“SheusedthemanwhoknowshowtobeSamBrennanbetterthanSamBrennan—TroyBrennan.”
Forthefirsttimeinalongtime,Ihadnothingtosay.NothingotherthanwherethefuckwasAisling?Whywasn’tshetheoneconfrontingme?Onlytheanswerwasobvious.Shedidn’twantanythingtodowithme.Everytimewewerealone,I’dsomehowfindawayintoherpantsbeforepushingherawayandtellingbothofusitwouldneverhappenagain.
Fuckingpathetic.
AndthistimeIdidn’tmeanher.
“Ifitmakesyoufeelanybetter,youradoptivefatherhadnoideathishadanythingtodowithyou.Hewouldneverbetrayyoulikethis.AislingtoldhimsheneededafewcertainnumberstoberedirectedtoBellebecause,asyouknow,BelleistheowneratMadameMayhem,alocalnightclub,andshesaidsomeonewastryingtotargettheclubandwriteadamningtell-allaboutthemanagersandgoings-oninside,”Geraldcontinued,takinganothergeneroussipofwhiskey.
Itookadragoffmycigarette.Mydrinkremaineduntouched.
Throughthecurtains,theorangesandpinksofawintersunrisecoloredthesky.Itappedmycigarettetothesideofmylip,mullingitover.
“Itwasairtight,”Isaideventually.
“Yes,”Geraldagreed.“Aislingdidallthelegwork.WhenTroyaskedwhyshedidn’tcometoyoudirectlytodealwiththepublishingcompanies,sheexplainedthatbecauseshewasinfatuatedwithyou,shewantedtolimityourcommunicationtothebareminimum.”
Sheevenusedherweaknessestoheradvantage.
“Wecommunicateoften,”Ibitoutharshly,childishly,theneedtofuckheroverrightbackoverwhelmingme.“Ifthat’swhatyouwanttocallit.SowhereisthisBarbarawomannow?”
Iknewwhereshewasgoingtobesoon.
Sixfeetunder.
Actually,thatwasn’ttrue.Iwasn’tgoingtokillBarbara,butnotbecauseshedidn’tdeserveitfordouble-crossingme.Iwasn’tgoingtokillherbecauseitwasobviousAislingfuckingFitzpatrickwasgoingtogoaftermyass,knowingIhadonehellofamotive.Itwasn’tacolddayinHell,butfinally,Ifoundsomeonewhoheldmeaccountableformyactions.
Itwasn’tthepolice,thesheriff,theFBI,orthemayor,althoughallofthemhadtried.
ItwasapetiteIrishgirlwithasmartmouthandeyeslikebluebellswhowantedtogivemeeverythingshehaduntilImadeitverycleartoherIwasn’tworthanyofit.
“That’sagreatquestion.”Geraldgrinnedsmugly,hisfacesopunchableIwassurpriseditdidn’tcurveinsideout.
Hesnappedhisfingers,andjustlikethat,Barbaramaterializedfromthehallway,nolongerlookinglikeaday-shiftstripper.Herhairwascoiffedback,herattireablackvelvetPradasuitandChanelpurse.
Yeah,shedefinitelydidn’tneedanyfoodstampsorhalf-finishedcigarettepacks.
Barbarasmiledatmeapologetically,givingmeaquicknod.
“IwantedtobeherejusttosayIwassorryinperson.Inevermeanttocomplicatethingsforyou,Mr.Brennan,butGeraldisanoldfriend,andwhenhetoldmehewasintrouble,Isimplycouldn’tturnmybackonhim.Surely,youcanunderstand.”
OnlyIcouldn’t.
BecauseIdidn’thaveanyrealfriends.OnlypeopleIhadbusinesswithandmetwithsocially—onlytomakesuretheydidn’tscrewupanyofourmutualbusinessshit.
“Wellplayed,madam.”
Shesmiledanddashedoutthedooraftersayinghergoodbyes,leavingGeraldandmetofaceeachother.Itookoutanothercigarette,waitingforthequestiononthetipofhistongue.
“Sonowit’syourturntotellme…why?”heaskedquietly,droppinghiselbowstohisknees.Helookedbroken.Wiltedandweakandsomehowstillangry.
“Whydidyouputmethroughthis?WhydidyoutakeeverythingI’veevercaredfor?WhatdidIeverdotoyou,Brennan?Upuntiltwomonthsago,Iwouldnameyouasoneofmyclosestbusinesspartners.Openly.”
Openlymyass.Ifhewassoopenabouthisbusinesswithme,hewouldn’thaveforbademefromtakinghisdaughteroutforacoffee.
NotthatthatwaswhatIwanted.
Orhadanythingtodowiththisbullshit.
“Ifoundtheletters,”Isaid,flickingashintoanashtrayonthetable.“Catalina’sletters.BackinNovember.Theoldbatfinallyconkedout,andherneighborinvitedmetosortthroughhershitandseeiftherewasanythingofvaluethere.Spoileralert:therewasn’t.Butshekepttheletterstoyou.Theonesyouredirectedbacktoher.Andyourphotostogether…”Itookadeepbreath“…andthepregnancytest.Iknowallaboutwhatyoudidtoher,tome.Howyoudroveherawayfromme.Howyoukilledthechildinherwomb.Mybrother.Iknoweverything.EverythingEverything.”
Isaiditthreetimes,sohe’dunderstandImeantbusiness.
Geraldstaredatmeforalongbeat.Whenhefinallyopenedhismouth,nowordscameout.
Hestartedtolaugh.
Cacklewasmorelikeit.
AndImean,reallygoatit,slappinghisthighashetriedtoregulatehisbreath,wipingatearfromthecornerofhiseye,shakinghishead.
“Youboughtthatbullshit?”Heheaved.“Areyouserious,son?”
“Therewerepictures,Gerald.Lotsofthem.OfyouandCattogether.Bytheway,youshouldprobablystopthehabitofdocumentingeverysinglefuckyouhavewithwomenwhoarenotyourwife.”
Thepicturesweregenuine.Theywerereal.Andtheyweredamning.IknewaphotoshoppedworkwhenIsawit,andthiswasn’tit.
SowhywasIfeelinglikeanidiotrightnow?
“No,IdidhaveanaffairwithCat,I’mnotgoingtodenythatpart.Hell,Sam,youwereachild,barelyevenoldenoughtowipeyourownass.Ididn’tknowyou.AndCatwasagorgeouswomaninherprime.Besides,sheneededthemoney,andIpaidherwellforher…uh…company.”Helookedawaynow,rubbingthebackofhishead.
Therewasnowell-manneredwaytopointoutsomeone’smotherwasawhore,soIdidn’tnecessarilyfaulthimforthat.Hecarriedon,exhalingquickly.
“Ihadanaffairwithher,yes,buteverythingelsewasacompleteandutterfabrication.Catalinawasneverpregnantwithmychild,andIneverraisedafingertohurther.Ididnotcausehertomiscarry.Whenwestartedseeingeachother,shetoldmeshehadhertubestiedaftershehadyou.Iaskedhertoshowmethedoctor’snote—IknewJanewouldripmyheadoffifIevergotanyofmymistressespregnant—andCatprovidedittomewithintheday.Notonlythat,butIwentaheadanddouble-checkeditwithherOB-GYN.”
“Thenwhatthefuckwasthatpregnancytest?”
“Myguessisshetookitfromoneofherfriends.Catalinahadalotoffriendsinthe…uh…industrysheworkedin.Keptwomenwhomessedaroundwithrichmen.Weprovidedforthem,butthemainincentivewas,ofcourse,tofallpregnantwithourchildren.Thatwouldtieustothemforlife.”
Ididnottakethatintoconsideration.
“Soyouaresayingshewasneverpregnantwithyourchild?”Idrawled,tryingtokeepmycool.
Hefinishedhiswhiskeyinonego.“Correct.”
“That’sallniceandwell,butIdistinctlyrememberCatcomingbackhomearoundthetimeoftheallegedmiscarriage,disorientedandbruised.Irememberhercrawlingintoherbed,curlingupintoaball,crying.Irememberherbeingusheredtothehospitalinanambulance.Howwouldyouexplainthat?”
Geraldstaredatmethroughbeady,liquidblackeyes,hislipssneeringindistaste.“DoesthenameDonnieringabell?”
Ishookmyheadslowly.
“Tall,muscular,anunderwearmodeltype.HewasCat’srealboyfriendatthetime.Themanshefuckedwithoutleavinganinvoiceonthenightstandafterward.Realgood-lookingguy,I’llgivehimthat,buthenevercametotermswithwhatshedidforaliving.Everynowandagain,hewouldroughherupifsheshoweduptomeethimsmellinglikethemanbeforehim.Asithappened,thatmanbeforehimthatnightwasme.Iknow,becauseImetyourmotheratthehospitalandevenpaidforherhospitalstay.Itoldhertopresscharges.Shedidn’twantto.Istillhavethereceiptforthathospitalbill,andIcanshowyounoneofthethingslistedtherehaveanythingtodowithCat’swomboranyofherreproductiveorgans.”
Suddenly,Ihadareallybadheadache.Becausethroughfoggymemory,IdidrememberDonnie.Atall,blondfuckboy.IrememberedinternallyreferringtohimasCaptainPotatoHeadforhavingthecombinedIQandwitofausedcondom.Hewasthefirstpersontogivemeacigarette.
“Hey,Cat’skid,bringmethepackofMarlborosoverthere,willya?”
IdidasIwastold,mostlybecauseIwastoodistractedtotellhimtofuckoff.Themanleftthepackopen,jerkingitinmydirection.
“Here,boy,takeone.I’llshowyouhowit’sdone.”
“Idon’tsmoke.”
“Oh,youwill,buddy.Withyourfucked-uplife,cigarettesareaquestionofwhen,notif.”
“Explaintheletters.”IturnedtoGerald,thebitingpainofbeingplayedclosinginonmythroatagain.ThistimenotbyAisling,whowasatleastsmartandintelligent,butbyCat,whomIwouldn’ttrustwithagoddamnSnickersbar.
Allthepiecesofthepuzzlewerefallingtogether.
“Easily,Sam.”Geraldpouredhimselfmorewhiskey,seemingmorerelaxedthanhehadinweeks.Iknewhewastellingthetruth,anditfuckingkilledme.“SometimeafterDonnieroughedherup,Catrealizedherlineofworkwasjusttoodangerous.Sheaskedmeformoney.Alotofit.Tokeepsilent.Isaidno,andthat’swhentheblackmailingbegan.Eachandeveryoneofherletterswaspartofanextortionscheme.Shethreatenedtooutus,tospreadterriblelies,toensureJaneknewaboutwhatwewere.Whatwedid.Shewantedtoskiptown,butsheneverwantedtotakeyou,Sam.Youweren’tinherplans.Notevenforasecond.Atsomepoint,Irealizedshewasn’tworththeheatIwasabouttogetfromJane.Ibecameopentogivinghermoney.Ikeptaskingherhowshecouldleaveyoubehind.Triedtoconvincehertotakeyouwithher—kidsneedtheirmothers.ByGod,Sam,shejustwouldn’t.Finally,Ihandedher150kjustsoshewouldshutupandleavemealone.Irememberthedaysheleft.Shewassohappy,andyouknowwhat,son?SowasI.Shealmostcostmeeverything.I’mnotgoingtolie,Sam,seeingthebackofyourmotherassheskippedtownwasoneofmyfavoritesights.Itshouldhavebeenahappydayforyou,too.”
Ibeganpeelingthesoftpaperaroundthecigarettepack,feelinglikeathirteen-year-oldagain.
“Younevertoldmeaboutyourhistorywithmymother,”Isaidcoldly.
“No.NotbecauseIdidsomethinghorribletoherbutbecauseIdidn’twantyoutothinkIseeyouasthespawnofthismoney-grabbingidiot.Ididn’twantourprofessionalrelationshiptobetaintedbythat.Besides,Itrulydidn’tanddon’tseeyouasCat’s.YouareaBrennanthroughandthrough.ABrennanisthebestthingapersoninBostoncanbe,otherthanaFitzpatrick.Youhadagoodchildhoodonceshegaveyouup.Youshouldn’tbethinkingabouther.Notforonesecond.”
“Idon’t,”Ihissed.“I’mthinkingabouthowyouwrongedme.”
“Ididn’tknowyou,”Geraldemphasized.“Youwereakid.Still,Ifeltsomesortofresponsibilitytowardyou.AfterI’dheardCathadleft,Ilookedyouup.FoundoutthatSparrowsentyoutothisfancyMontessorischool.IhadmydriverdrivearounditsometimestoseeifIcouldspotyouduringrecess.SometimesIdid.Yousatinthemiddleofacircle,andalltheboyslookeduptoyou,captivatedbyyou.Youbecamestrong,andprominent,andunbeatable.Afterawhile,Iwassatisfiedwithhowitallturnedout.Pleasedwithmydecisiontogivethewretchedwomanwhatshewantedtoleaveyoubehind.Itworkedoutwellforyou.”
“Sowellyoulateronhiredmeasthehelp.”
“No,asmyfixer,”Geraldcorrected.“AsavvybusinessmanwhoseexpertiseIneededandwaswillingtopayforhandsomely.Admittedly,Iwasn’tsurprisedtoseeyouonmydoorstep.IstitchedtogethertheSailorandHunterplanwithTroy,tighteningourtieswiththeBrennanshadalwaysbeentheplanforme.YouweretooprominentafamilyinBostonformenottoacknowledgeyousomehow.ButIhiredyoubecauseyouwerethebestinthebusinessandnotforanyotherreason.”
Therewassilence.Iknewmoreneededtobesaid,butIwasn’tsurewhat.IbelievedGerald,andthatshouldhavebeenenough.Ishouldhavefeltsomesortofrelieforcontentmentwiththisinformation.
Cautiously,Geraldcontinued,drawingacirclewithhisindexfingeraroundhistumblerofwhiskey.
“ButIhaveafeelingthisdoesn’thavemuchtodowithCatalinaandme.Youwantedareasonformetobecomeyourenemy.Otherwise,youwouldhavecomestraighttomewiththoseletters.What’sgoingon,Sam?”
Andjustlikethat,hehitthenailonthehead.
Icreatedthismess.
Troywasright.
Geraldwasright,too.
Iwantedit,neededit,manufactureditthedayafterIsleptwithAislingtodistractmyselffromthehardtruths.
AislingFitzpatrickcouldneverbemine.
Shewastooinnocent,tooprecious,tooblue-bloodedforamanlikeme.
Icouldn’thaveher—andnotjustbecauseherfamilypaidmenotto.
Theextramoneydidn’tmattermuchtome.ButalsobecauseIcouldn’tgiveherallthethingssheneeded—monogamy,awedding,afamily,children.AndmostimportantlybecauseIknewbeingwithherwouldputherlifeatrisk.
Sheisalreadyputtingherlifeatrisk,doingwhatsheisdoing.Shecouldendupinjailtomorrow,whichmeansyouplayedsaviorJesusfornothing.
Thetruthhitmehard.
IwantedAislingFitzpatrick.
Therewerenomoredistractions.
Nomoreexcuses.
Nomorereasonstostayaway.
Especiallynow,whenbothGeraldandIhadeachotherbythethroat.
Itwastimetomakeabargain.
“Youdeprivedmeofmymother,Gerald,andIdeprivedyouofyoursanityforweeks.Ithinkitishightimewecutadeal.”Isatback,nailinghimtohisseatwithastare.
“Don’tturnthisaroundonme,Brennan.Youwerecaughtred-handed,meddlingwithmybusinessandruiningmyrelationshipswithmylovedones.IknowitseemslikeJaneandIhavealotofissuestoworkthrough,andtruthbetold,oursislessthanaperfectmarriage,butIstillcareaboutmywife.Iloveherinmyownway,andIamdefinitelynotimpressedwiththewayyouinterferedinourmarriage.”
“Regardlessofthatspeech,thetruthofthematteris,Ihavealotofdirtonyou,Gerryboy,andIfullyplantounleashitifIdon’tgetwhatIwant.Thelettersarestillreal.Thepregnancytestisstillinexistence.AllthosethingsyouranawayfromwithCatarenowinmypossession,andtrustme,Imakemybirthmotherlooklikeakittenincomparison.”
Hegroaned,rubbinghisfacetiredly.
“Whatisitthatyouwant?”
“Yourdaughter,”Irepliedsimply.
Helaughed.Thistimeitcameoutmetallicandscratchy.Hiswholebodyrejectedtheidea.Likeafailedorgantransplant.
“You’llneverstandachancewithmydaughterafterwhatyoudidtous.Thisistheultimatebetrayal.Shecaresforhermotherdearly,andinhereyes,youaretoblameforthedestructionofherfamily.Infact,Iwillbemeetingherforbreakfastin…”heflickedhiswrist,checkinghisRolex“…abouttwohourstotellherallaboutthislittleconversation.Icannotgiveyouwhatisnotupforoffer.”
“Leavethepersuasiontome,”Iclipped.“Giveheryourblessingtobewithme.”
“Myblessing?”hespatout,hiseyeswidening.“Youtriedruiningmylife!”
“Youruinedminefirst.”Iwavedanimpatienthandhisway,standingupandcollectingmythings.
“I’mpayingyouextratostayawayfromAisling!”Heshotuptohisfeet,jabbingafingerintheairinmydirection.
Ishrugged.“Don’tworryaboutmybankaccount.I’llsurvivewithoutit.”
“It’snotyourbankaccountI’mworriedabout.It’smydaughter.”Hepaused,aflickerofinterestcrossinghisface.“Howwelloffareyou,anyway?”
“Tripledigitmillionswelloff.Yourdaughterwillbeprovidedfor.”
“Youwillnothaveher!”hecrieddesperately.“Aislingisbeautiful,smart,delicate,andwell-bred.She—”
“Isalsofuckingsinglebecausetheonlymanshewantsisforbidden,”Icuthimoff,shoulderingpasthimtowardthebathroom,whereIyankedhisgunoutofmypocketandwipeditcleanofmyfingerprintswithatowel.“Youaredoingheradisservicebyinterferingwithherlovelife.Sheknowswhatshewants.”
“Andyou?”Heeyedmeskepticallythroughthebathroommirror.“Doyouknowwhatyouwant?”
Yes.
IwantedAisling.
Imethisgazehead-oninthemirror.
“Youwilltellhershehasyourblessingtodateme.Tobewithme.Tomarryme,”Ienunciated.“Understood?”
Helookedclosetohittingme.ItsurprisedanddelightedmetoknowGeraldcaredsomuchabouthisdaughter.
“Sheismyfleshandblood,”hehissed.
“Don’tremindme.”Ipretendedtogag.“Look,Idon’tneedyourdirtymoney.Iplanoncourtingherandtouchingher—alot,inwaysyoudon’twanttothinkabout—andIwouldliketodothatveryopenly.Shedeservesdinners,andrestaurants,andvacations.ThingsIcannotgiveherinsecret.YoueitherrollwiththeplanorIrunyouover.Yourpick.”
“Ihaveconditions,too.”
Iputhisgundownonthesink’sedge,turningaroundandfoldingmyarmsovermychest.“Let’shearthem.”
“I’llbegoingbacktoAveburyCourtManorinafewtogiveJaneandAislingarundownofeverythingwediscussed.Allfacts.Youwillnotdenywhathappened.Youwillownuptotamperingwithourlives.Topoisoningme.Todraggingoutthoseawfulpictures.”
Itseemedstraightforwardenough.
“Youwillalsohandmebackmycufflinks.Myfamilyheirloom.”
Igavehimacurtnod.“Thatit?”
“No.Onemorething.Ifyouhurther…”Hedidn’tfinishthesentence,shakinghisheadtoridhimselfofwhateverhorridimageplayedinhismind.
“Iwillnothurtyourdaughter.”
“I’malreadyregrettingthisbargain.”
Iturnedaroundandlefthimthere.
Nowtherewasonlyoneslightmatter.
ThematterofmakingAislingnothatemewithaburningpassionofafuckingmillionsuns.
“Doyouthinkheisokay?Shouldwecallthepolice?”Mymothertorehercroissantintominisculepiecesonherfloweryplate,demolishingthepoorpastry.“Doesmyhairlookokay?”
Isatacrossthetablefromher,staringintomyoatmeallikeithadwrongedmeinsomeprofoundway.Ididn’twantAthairtodealwithSambyhimself,buthehadinsisted,andconsideringthefacthewasthemainvictimofSam’sviciousplan—aplanthatIfollowedcloselywithouttellinganyonefrommyfamily—Itendedtoagreewithhim.
Besides,therewasnothingIcouldpossiblysaytoSamthatIhadn’talready.
Iconfessedmylovetohim,gavehimmybody,offeredhimmysoul,soughthimoutoverandoveragain.
Ineededtogatherwhateverwasleftofmyprideandmoveonwithmylife.
“Dawillbefine,”Isaidunconvincingly,takingasipofmypulpy,freshly-squeezedorangejuice.“Andyourhairlooksgreat.”
“Whatifhekillshim?”Motherslappedahandtoherchest.“Don’tgetmewrong,Iappreciateallyoudidforus,uncoveringallthis,Aisling,butmaybethisshould’vebeenhandledbythepolice.”
“SamuelBrennanwouldhaveslaughteredDaifhebroughtpoliceofficersintohisclub,andyouandIbothknowit.”
Mother’sfingersstrummedoverherSwarovskinecklace,lettingoutsomethingbetweenawailandamoan.Thedoorbehindmybackswungopen.Ididn’thavetoturnaroundtoseewhoitwas.Myfatherstalkedinside,hisstepsheavyandwobbly.Itwasthefirsttimehe’dseenmymotherinweeks.
AftermyideatosetBarbaraasatrapforSamandputourplanintomotion,Ihadgottenmyparentstotalkalittleonthephonebutcouldn’tgetthemtomeetinperson.Theywerebothstillwaryofoneanother,evenwhenIclearlyestablishedtheonlydirtyplayerinthiswholesituationwasSam.
“Hello,Jane.”Dastoppedcoldtotakeinmymother.
They’dbothlostsomuchweightandvitalityoverthelastweeks,itwasalmostlikelookingattheirghosts.
Ithitmelikeabrickjustthen.HowlovewaslikeLadyMasquerade.Itcouldtakeonmanyfaces.Myparentscheatedoneachother.Theylied,backstabbedoneanother,andfailedtocommunicatewitheachother.Still,theycouldn’tbeartobeapart.
Theylovedeachotherintheirownbackwardway,andmaybelovewasn’tabeautifulthing,afterall.Mostthingsinlifeweren’t.
Motherstoodup.Theybothstaredateachother,neitherofthemwantingtosayanythingtoruinthisprecious,fragilemoment.
“Youlookwell,”Dasaidfinally.
Motherpressedherpalmagainsthercheek,actuallyblushing.
“Liar.Ilookawful.Sodoyou.”
“Ifeelawful,too.Youwereatthehospital.”
“Iwas.”
“Imissedyou,”hesaid.
Shemotionedtothediningtableladenwithpastries,oatmeal,andfreshfruit.
“Joinusforbreakfast?”
“Don’tmindifIdo.”Heslippedintohisusualseat,pilingpastriesontoaplate.
Ididn’taskhimhowitwentwithSam.HisappetitealonetoldmeeverythingIneededtoknow.Myworstfearsandsuspicionsaboutmypersonalmonsterhadturnedouttobetrue.
Healmostruinedmyfamily.Almost,becauseIwouldn’tlethim.
Buthe’dintendedtodothatnonetheless.
Itookanothersipofmyorangejuice,studyingDa.
Finally,hewhippedhisheadtolookatme.
“Youwereright,Aisling.”Heputabutterknifestreakedwithmarmaladeonthesideofhisplate.“Itwashim.Thecufflinks.Thepoisoning.Thepictures.Barbara,obviously.”
Myhearthurtsomuchitfeltlikeherippeditstraightoutofmychest,breakingafewribsintheprocess.
Why,Sam,why?
“Why?”Motheraskedtentatively,echoingmythoughts.Daturnedtolookather
“I’lltellyouinalittlebit,mysweet,whenAislingleavesforwork.I’llgiveyouthetruth.Nothingbutthetruth.Iswear.Butfirst,Iwanttotellyousomething.”Daturnedbacktome.
Smilingandtryingmybesttoappearcalm,Iwaitedformore.
“IwaswronginforcingyouandSamuelapart.IthoughtIwasdoingyouafavor.Tobehonest,IstillthinkIdid.YourbrothersandIknewyoulikedhimfromthemomentyousawhim,andwewantedsomeonebetterforyou.Youdeservednothingbutthebest.Butifwhatyouwantislessthanthebest,ifyourheartdesiresSam…”hetookadeepbreath,asifhewasabouttoripaBand-Aid“…youhavemypermissiontobewithhim,honey.Iwillnotstandinyourway,andIwillnotpaySamanextrafeenottotouchyou.Youarefreetodoasyouplease.Frankly,it’sbeenalongtimecoming,consideringyouareshowingsignsofbeingthesmartestpersoninthefamily.”
IwaitedtofeelallthefeelingsIthoughtI’dassociatewiththisspeech.
Relief,happiness,andelation.
ButallIcouldfeelwasthebittertasteofironyexplodinginmymouth.
BecauseDa’sacceptanceofmyrelationshipwithSamwastoolittletoolate.
Samwouldneverbemine.He’dmadethatperfectlyclear.Evenifhewasopentosomesortofarelationship,hewouldn’toffermelove,andIwasn’tgoingtobackdownfrommydemand—itwasallornothing.
Besides,whatkindofwomanwasidioticenoughtobewithamanwhowishedtoseeherfamilyburn?
Standingup,Iexcusedmyself,curtsyinglikeMs.Bhadtaughtme,andgavethemtheone-on-onetimetheyneeded.
“Thatisveryniceofyou,Athair,andIappreciateyoufinallyseeingtheerrorinyourways,butI’mafraiditdoesn’tmatteranymore.IwillnotbetouchingSam,deadoralive.Haveagreatmorning.”Igrabbedmycoatanddashedouttothefreezingcoldofwinter.
Tothelonelyarmsofheartbreak.
Laterthatevening,whenIcamebackhome,Sailor,Belle,andPersywerewaitingformeinmyroom.TheywerewearingChristmas-themedpajamas.Anunholyamountoftakeoutfoodandwinewassprawledonmybed,stinkinguptheplace.
Merde.Christmaswasonlyafewdaysaway.Howdiditslipmymind?
Wehadn’tmadeanyplanstogether,soIwascaughtoff-guardbythespontaneousmeet-up,butafteralongdayatwork,Icouldn’texactlybemadatthemforprovidingamuch-neededdistraction.
“Hi?”Idroppedmybackpack,scanningthethreeofthemhuddledinmybedlikekids,watchingIt’saWonderfulLife,stuffingtheirfaceswithmaple-coveredpopcorn.
“Hey,girl!WebroughtVietnamese.”Persydrummedchopsticksovertakeoutboxes,wigglingherbrows.
“Andgoodspirits,”Sailoradded,showingmeexactlywhatshemeantbywavingaroundabottleofgin.Ilaughed.
“Andsexualinnuendos,”Bellemurmuredaroundamouthfulofpopcorn.“Butfirsttakeashowerandjoinusinapre-Christmascelebration.Thesebitchesdidn’tchaintheirhusbandstotheirbabies’cribsfornothing.”Shetossedamatchingpajamasetmyway,andInoticedtherewasaredletteringonthegreenPJ’s:69%Nice
Iscurriedtothebathroomandenjoyedaquickbutsteaminghotshower.WhenIgotout,theywerealreadysettlingallthefoodonthefloor,includingplatesandutensils.Bellecrackedopenabottleofchampagne,leavingtheginunopenedbehindherback.Ifrowned.
“Arewecelebratingsomething?DidyoufinallysellMadameMayhem?”
Bellewastheownerofanightclub,muchdifferentthantheoneSamwasrunning.Recently,though,shewantedtosellitandsoul-searchacrosstheglobe.Travel.Seethings.Tastethings.Shealwayswentagainstthegrain,alwaysdidthingsherway—independently.Belleshookherhead.
“Thishasnothingtodowithme.”
“What’sgoingon?”Ilookedbetweenthem.IhadaninklingIwasbeingambushed,andafterthemorningIhadtoday—aftergivinguponmydreamofbeingwithSamonceandforall—Iwasinnomoodtoreceivealecture.
Bellesighed,tossingherblondehairoveroneshoulder.
“Ishould’vebeenmoreobservant,that’swhathappened.I’msosorry.Thisweek,thepennyfinallydropped.HalloweennightatBadlandswhenIleftyoualonethere.ThenSamaskingSailorforyournumber.ThewaythetwoofyoudisappearedatThanksgivingaroundthesametime…”shetrailedoff.
“Look,Aisling,weknow,”Sailorsaidgravely.
Wehadn’texactlydisappearedatthesametime.Samhadtailedmewithoutmyknowledge.Iblinked,waitingfortheothershoetodrop.Howmuchdidtheyreallyknow?IwasalwayscarefulnottotellmyfriendsanythingaboutwhatwentonwithSam.Iknewhowunlikelyitwasthatsomethingrealwouldgrowoutofit,anddidn’twanttobejudged.MorethanIalreadywasanyway.
“You’rehavinganaffairwithhim,”Sailorsaidflatly.“Withmybrother.SamBrennan.Underbossextraordinaire.ThemostruthlessmaninBoston.Ishouldhaveknown.He’dalwaysrefusedtotalkaboutyou,butrecently,he’sbecomealmosttouchyeverytimeyournamecomesup.”
Touchy?Iwantedtolaugh.Surelynot.Hedidn’tcare.He’dmadethatabundantlyclear.
“No,”Isaidflatly,relievedthattheydidn’tknowmore.“I’mnothavinganaffairwithSamBrennan.”
“Dositdown,”Persyrequested,pattingaspotonthecarpetnexttoher.“Andyoudon’tneedtolietous.It’sokay.GodknowsIdidmyfairshareofchasingafterCillianwhenwefirststartedout.”Shesighedwistfully.
“It’snotthesame.Cillianhoundedyouthenforcedyouintomarriage.Thegrainofwantwasalwaysthere.Youhelpeditbloomintoamagnificentgarden,buthewasawillingparticipantallthroughout,”Bellepointedout,dumpingamassofnoodles,beef,andvegetablesontoaplatethenhandingitovertome.“We’renotgoingtosugarcoatit,Ash.We’reworriedaboutyou.SamBrennanisamore-than-you-can-chewtypeofguy.”
“Wealsohavesomethingtotellyou.”Sailorbitherlowerlip,lookingdownwardatherfood.IsanktothecarpetnexttoPersy,myeyesdriftingamongallofthemasthepitinmystomachgrewdeeperanddarker,asifbracingmyselfforthepainthatwasabouttocome.
“Somethingweprobablyshouldhavesaidtoyoualongtimeago,”Persyadded,slurpinganoodlebetweenherpinkCupidlips.
Oh,merde.Icouldn’tpossiblyhandleanymorebadnewsorsensationalrevelationstoday.Already,Ifeltlikemyheartwasinmythroat,readytobepukedoutanyminutenow.
“Whatisit?”Iasked.
“Theeveningwe’dmetyou…”Sailorclearedherthroat,amendingasshechewedonherbroccoli“…rememberwhenweallmadeapactthatwewouldonlymarryforlove?Notformoney,notforpower,notforfame,andnotbecauseitseemedlikethesafethingtodo.Weonlyhaveeightyorsoyearsonthisplanet,anditwouldbefoolishtospendthemwithsomeonelessthanphenomenal.Well,itwasyouridea,whichwaswhywethoughtitwouldbeunfairtotrytopersuadeyoutostoppiningafterSam.Afterall,youweregoingafteryourownheart.Doingasyoupreach.But…wehadtalks,Ash.Andweallthinkthatbetwasnotthought-through.Sometimes…well,sometimesit’snotsobadtoletgo.”Sailornibbledonthebroccolinervously.
Ididmybestnottolaughatthat.TheyhadlengthyconversationsaboutmyobsessionwithSam.Behindmyback.IalwaysknewthatSailor,Emmabelle,andPersephonewereoneunit,andIwasanaddition.Abonusepiloguetoanalreadyperfectlyfinishedbook.They’dallmetatelementaryschool,whileI’dbeenaddedtotheirgirl-gangwhenIwasseventeen.Bythen,theywerebestfriendsforaverylongtimeandtickedoffallthemilestonestogether:firstperiod,firstkiss,firstguy,firstlove,firstheartbreak.EmmabelleandPersephoneweresisters,withBellebeingtheoldest.AndSailor?SailorwaslikePersy’stwin.
Theydidn’ttellmeaboutthepactbecausetheydidn’tthinktoincludemeinit.
“AndIloveSamwithallmyheart,”Sailorcontinued,“Imean,howcouldInot?Heismybigbrother,theboywhoshooedthemonstersawaywhenIwasakidbeforebecomingonehimself.ButIwouldneverlivewithmyselfifIdon’tgetthisoutofmysystem.Samisincapableoflove,Ash.AndIthinkitistimeforyoutomoveon.Youcannotmarryforloveifyoumarryhimbecauseheisnotthelovingkind.”
“Nottomention,Samdoesn’twanttogetmarried.Hesaysthatallthetime.Boastsaboutit,too,”Persypointedoutheatedly,andIknewtheirheartswereintherightplace,butIsodidn’tneedtohearthisrightnow.
“I’mnothavinganaffair,”Irepeatedagain,dullythoughmybodytemperatureclimbedupsteadily.Theywerepatronizingme.Again.
“Honey,I’mnotsayingyoucan’tscrewhimoutofyoursystemafewmoretimes.”Bellethrewherarmsaroundmyshoulders,pressingmecloseinahug.Myplatenearlytippedover,someofitscontentsspillingonthecarpet.“Justmakesureyouknowheisnotyourforever.You’rearomanticone,likePersy.”
“Yeah.Justguardyourheart.”Sailorsmiledawkwardly.“Youknow?Becauselove—”
“Yes,Iknow,”Ibitout,pullingbackfromBelle.“Loveisnotsomethingyourbrotherhastooffer.Soyou’vementioned.Isupposeitdoesn’tmatterifIrepeatforthethirdtimethatI’mnotsleepingwithhim?”
Technicallyspeaking,Iwasn’t.Ihadinthepast,butIendedthings,comingtothesameconclusiontheydid—adecadeaftergivinghimmyheartonamonsterride.
Bellegavemeapityinglook.“Oh,honey.”
Thatwasit.
Isnapped.
Jumpedtomyfeet,sendingmyplateintheair.
“Letmegetthisstraight,youstagedawholeinterventionbecauseyouthoughtIwashavinganaffairwithSamandcouldn’thandlehim?”Ilaughedincredulously,myteethclenchingwithanger.
Sailorwinced.“Iwouldn’tsaycan’thandle…”
Isqueezedthebridgeofmynose,willingmyselftotakeabig,cleansingbreath
In.Out.That’sit.
Nope.Itdidn’twork.
“Allright,let’sseeaboutyourgreen,greengrass,shallwe?”Iopenedmyarmstheatrically,makingashowofit.“Startingwithyou,thealmightySailor,thefirstofustogetmarried.MayIremindyouyourrelationshipstartedwhenyouwereHunter’sbabysitter?Becausethattotallyhappened.Youwereinchargeofkeepinghiminlinebecausehisdickwasnottobeleftunsupervisedforlongerthanfiveminutes.I’vemettoddlerswithmoreself-controlthanHunter’sjunkbeforehemetyou;hewashardlymarriagematerial.Thatdidn’tstopyoufromjumpingintocommitmentwithhim.Andyou…”IturnedtoPersy,whoshrankintoherselfvisibly.
Shewastheleastjudgmentaloutofmyfriends,butshewasn’tlilywhiteorguiltless.“Youwereliterallyboughtbymybrother,likecattle.Actually,scratchthat,heconductsmoreresearchbeforehebuysasteer.He’dtreatedyouhorriblyformonths.Youbrokehimthewayyoubreakanunrulyhorse.Throughtrialsandtribulations.Youshouldknowbetterthananyonethatthemoststubbornmaresmakethebestridingmatesonceyoutamethem.And,ofcourse,thereisyou,Belle…”IturnedtoBelle,smilingathersweetly.
Outofallofourfriends,BelleandIwerethemostunlikelypairandalsotheclosest.Probablybecauseweweretheonlytwostillsingle.
“Youcannotevenspelltheword‘relationship,’letalonemakeonework.Youarescaredtodeathoflove,forwhateverreason,andhaveneveronceletanyoneintoyourheartsinceI’veknownyou.Whoareyouguystotellmewheremyrelationship—orlackofit—isgoing?Youknowbetterthananyonebumpystartsdon’tguaranteeaterriblejourney.Infact,thepathswiththebestsceneryaretheoneswhereyouhavetogothroughthemud.”
BythetimeIwasdone,Iwaspantingandsweatingundertheflannelpajamas.
Ilostallappetiteforthetakeout,andeventheChristmasmoviebingesessionseemedunappealing.“Iwouldlikeyoutoleavenow…”Ifoldedmyarmsovermychest,shiftingmyweightfromfoottofoot“…please.”
Persywasthefirsttooblige.Shesmoothedherjammies,hereyesfilledtothebrimwithtears.“You’reright,”shewhispered.“WehavenoideawhatgoesonbetweenyouandSam.Inourquesttotrytoprotectyou,we’vebeenpushingyouaround,belittlingyou.”ShelookedaroundforsupportandfounditfromSailorandBelle,whonodded,shufflinguptotheirfeetalso.
“Reformingbadmenseemstobethethemeofourgirl-gang.”Sailorsmiledcrookedly,andinthatmoment,Icouldswearthateventhoughtheydidn’tshareDNA,shewasallSam.Samemannerismsandlopsidedsmile.“SoI’mreallynotsurewhywe’reevenworriedaboutyou.”
“Youalsohappentobeannoyinglyright.”Bellerolledhereyeswithahuff.“Weallhaveourten-tonbaggage.Ourdarkfears.Thethingsthatmadeuswhowearetoday.Sowhatifyou’reaone-manwoman?Atleastthatmancanweartheheckoutofapeacoat,istallasfuck,andricherthansin.”
“Let’sstartthisagain,”Sailorsaidtentatively.“Thistimewithoutthejudgefest.Ash,wouldyouliketospendaneveningtogether?Justeatingjunk,gettingdrunk,watchingTV,andsharingteathathasnothingtodowiththehotliquid?”
Ismiledsoftly,feelinglikeastonehadbeenliftedfrommyheart,anditwasmyfriendsthathadpusheditoffthroughteamwork.
“I’dlikethat,thankyou.”
Andjustlikethat,IknewIwouldnolongergetshitforwhateverhappenedordidn’thappenwithSam.
TheBrennansandtheFitzpatricksdidnotcelebrateChristmastogetherthatyearforthefirsttimeinadecade.
SailorelegantlyaddressedthesubjectafterJaneandGerald’sinvitationarrivedatherhouse,excludingTroy’s,Sparrow’s,andmyname.
ItwasduringChristmasdinner,withHunterlookingsoemohegavethatassholefromPanic!AtTheDiscoarunforhismoney.
“Whatdidyoudo,youclass-Afuckboy?”Sailorshotpoisonousarrowsacrossthetablewithhermoss-greeneyes.
Entirelyunwillingtodiscussthesubjectpublicly,Ishovedlukewarmyamsintomymouth.
“Whatdoyoucare?IsavedyoufromanightofboredomattheFitzpatricks’.”
“Firstofall,itismyfamilyyouaretalkingabout,”Hunterstatedthefuckingobvious,asperusual.“Second,IwaslookingforwardtoseeingCillianandAsh.”
“You’rewelcometojointhem,Hunter.Nooneisforcingyoutobehere,”Troysaidmatter-of-factly,thoughIknewhewasstillpissedwithmeforscrewinguptheentireGeraldoperation.
I’dgivenNixafewdaystocometotermswithwhathadhappenedbetweenherfatherandme,lettinghercooldown.Shewasupset.Thatwasagiven.Butshewouldgetoverit.
IimaginedherovercomewithjoyasItoldherI’dcometotermswiththeideaofbeingwithher.
Tonight,Ihadeveryintentionofputtinganendtothisnonsenseandclaimher.
Astheeveningunfolded,andHunterhittheeggnoglikeitwasvintagewhiskeywhileSailorwatchedoverherkidstoensurenoneofthemcaughtonfire,andTroyandSparrowlookedreadytoundresseachother,Itookmycueandsaidmygoodbyes.Ratherthandrivebacktomyapartment,IheadedstraighttoAveburyCourtManor.
Iwasn’tsodumbastothinkGeraldandJaneFitzpatrickwouldsharetheirdaughter’senthusiasmatseeingmeontheirdoorstep.Thatsuitedmejustfine.Iwasmorethancapableofclimbingintowindows,whichaccordingtoallthemoviesandshowsIhaddefinitelynotwatchedwithSailorandSparrow,itwasdeemedhopelesslyromantic.
Nixwasaromantic.
Iwasinthebestshapeofmylife.
Itwasano-fucking-brainer.
Parkinginfrontofthemansion,Inoticedthelightswerealreadyout.TheFitzpatrickswrappedupChristmasearly.Iroundedtheirhouse,detectingNix’swindow.Thelightwasturnedoffthere,too.
Breakingintoherroomwasliketakingcandyfromababy.AveburyCourtManorwasbuiltlowandspreadoutratherthantallandnarrow.Andtherewerecolumnsfuckingeverywhere.Thesnowwasnotideal.Thenagain,I’dmanagedclimbingmywayintoplacesinworseconditions.
Ithrewaropeoverthebannisterbetweenherwindowandoneofthecolumns,andwhenitfellbackthroughtheotherside,Itiedatightknot,tuggingatittoensureitwasfirmbeforeascendingupthecolumnwhileholdingontotherope,rock-climbingstyle.
WhenIreachedherwindow,Iknockedonitafewtimes,peeringinthroughthedouble-glazedglass.Shewassoundasleep,unmovinginherbed,hermidnighthairfannedacrosshershouldersandface.Adarkangel.
Irappedthewindowagain,watchingasshestirredawake,hereyelashesflutteringbeforeswingingherlong,leanlegsoverthebedandwalkingovertowardherdoor.
Forthethirdtime,Ibangedonthewindow,exasperated.PrettysureRomeodidn’thavetodealwithawomanwhohadthehearingofafuckingairfryer.
Shejumpedinsurprise,turningaround,hereyesmeetingminefromacrosstheroom.Whenthesightofmeregistered,sherantowardthewindow.
Attagirl.
Nixwascomingbacktothearmsofherfavoritemonster.
Sheunlatchedthewindowopen,andinoneswiftmovementputherhandsonmyshouldersandpushedmewithallherpower,sendingmeflyingbackdown.Quickonmyfeet,Igrabbedontothegutter,hangingontoitfordearfuckinglife,mylegsswingingintheair.
“MerryChristmastoyou,too.Iseeyoudecidedtogiftmeacrazybitchthisyear.I’lltakeit.”
“Youexpectedagift?”shespatoutfromsomewhereabovemyhead,sounding…well,nothalfasgladasIthoughtshe’dbetoseeme.“Whatonearthareyoudoinghere,Brennan?”
Luckily,Iputalotofeffortintoensuringmyupperbodywasstronganddidsuspensionexercisesandpull-upswithMitchellfourtimesaweek,soIknewthataslongasthegutterwasn’tgoingtosplitintwo,Icouldhangonitforawhile.
Ofcourse,Imightlosemyfingersintheprocessbecauseoffuckingfrostbite.
“Well,Ithoughtitwouldbeagoodtimetotalknow,afteryou’veprocessedeverythingthat’shappened.”
Iwasfuckingobsessedwithher.Itmadenosenseatall.Youwerenotsupposedtocravewhatwasofferedtoyouinabundance.
“Youmeanyoubackstabbingmyfamilyandme,makingmylifealivinghell,causingtheverynearwreckageofmyparents’marriage,andbringingdestructionuponusthatwouldtakedecadestoemotionallyreconstruct?”
Whensheputitthatway…
“Growthefuckup,Nix.Iplayedwithyourdaddyalittle.Ithadnothingtodowithyou.”
“Ithadeverythingtodowithme!YouhurtthepeopleIloveandcareaboutthemost,knowinghowmanyissuesIhadwithmymotherandabouthermentalstate,andyoukeptitfromme.”
“Ihadagoodreason,”Igrunted,pullingmyselfupandsettlingontheroofoutsideherwindowlikeagoddamndogsinceshewouldn’tletmein.Aislingcrossedherarms,archinganeyebrow.Sheworehorribleflannelpajamaswithferretsonthem.Iknewsheusedtohaveaferret—Shelly—andwonderedhowthefuckIendedupbeingconsumedbyawomanwho,despiteherdeclarationsofloveforme,nevertriedtochangeherquirkyweirdnesstofitthemoldandpleaseme.
“Aw,youhadareason.”Sheclappedsarcastically.“Thisshouldbegood.Let’shearit.”
“Yourfatherhadanaffairwithmybiologicalmother.”
“SodidtherestofBoston.Allegedly,”shedrawled.“Didn’tsheworkinthemostancientprofessionintheworld?”
Ignoringhersnark,Itrudgedthroughwiththestorythatwasfranklybeginningtoboreevenmetodeath.
“Earlierthisyear,inNovember,thedayIbailedonyou—”
“AnotherprimeexampleforwhyIshouldn’tgiveyouthetimeoftheday,”sheadded,“ornight.”
Igroundmyteethtogether,tryingtokeepmycool.
“Ididn’tshowupbecauseCatalinahaddied,andIneededtoflytoAtlantatosortthroughhershit.Ifoundsomelettersshewrotetoyourfather.Lettersinwhichsheaccusedhimofimpregnatingherthencausinghertomiscarrythroughbeatingherup.Sheclaimedhewastheonewhoforcedherintoleavingmebehindwhensheleft.”
Thatstoppedherfromunleashinganotherunhelpfulremarkmyway.Aisling’salreadymilkyskinpaledfurther.Shesteppedback,bitingherliptopreventhermouthfromfallinginshock.Iraisedahand,shakingmyhead.
“Arewe…”sheclearedherthroat“…related?”
Iwasveryclosetofallingfromherroofandbreakingmyspine.
“What?Aw,fuckno,sweetheart.I’dbepukingbucketsintonextyearifthatwerethecase.Nooffense.TheiraffairhappenedwayafterIwasborn.Pointis,Idiscusseditwithyourfather.Mostofitwasn’ttrue,butsomeofitwas.Atanyrate,thatwaswhyIwantedtotorturehim.”
“Youcouldhavetoldme,”shesaidfinally.
“No,Icouldn’t,”Igroaned.“WhatwouldIhavesaid?‘Oh,bytheway,I’mresponsibleforalltheshityourfamilyisgoingthrough.Nowmustbeagoodtimetoputmydickinyourmouth.’”
“Noneedtobecrass.”
“Look,I’msorryithappenedthisway.Idon’tapologizeoften—correction,Idon’tapologizeatall—soIsuggestyoutakeit,runwithit,andacceptit.IcameheretodaywithapropositionIthinkyouwouldverymuchlike.”
Shepursedherfulllipsindissatisfaction,andagainIhatedmyselffortakingherforgrantedalltheseyears.EvenwhenIdidn’ttouchher,Iknewshewasthere,waitingforme,fantasizingaboutme.Itwasalmostasgoodashavingher.KnowingthatIcould
Now,shelookedlikeshewantedtofinishthejobtheBratvastartedthatnightsheranawayfromthecabin.
“Aproposition?”sheasked.
“I’mreadytotakeourrelationshiptothenextlevel.”
“I’mafraidyou’llhavetospellitoutforme,seeingaswithyouitcouldalsomeananalsex.”
Ichuckled.“I’mwillingtohaveyou.”
“You’rewillingtohaveme,”sherepeatedflatly.
“Yes.Aswhatever-the-fuck.Girlfriend?Partner?What’sthecorrecttermforpeoplewhoareovertwenty-five?”
“Idon’tknow,andIdon’tcare.I’mnotyouranything,Brennan.Youhadyourchance.Youblewit.TenwholeyearsIwaitedforyoutomakemeyours.Allyouneededtodowasgivemethetimeoftheday.I’vewantedyouforsolong,Idon’tevenrememberwhatitfeelslikenottowantyou.Well,I’mabouttofindout.”
Shedidn’twantme.
Ihadnevertakenascenariolikethisintoconsideration.
Nix’slovewasalwaysinthebackgroundforme.AvailableandreadywheneverIwas.
Now,I’dfuckedupandneededtodealwiththeconsequences.
“I’mnotthetypeofguytotakenoforananswer,”Iwarned,meaningit.
“I’mnotthetypeofgirltogiveadangaboutwhatkindofguyyouare.Youwantme,you’llhavetowinme.”
Feelingmyjawtickingwithannoyance,Itookadeepbreath.
“Thatshouldbeeasy.Ionlywin.”
“You’llhavetochaseme,”shecorrected.
“Idon’tchase,”Iremindedherquietly.
“Well,thenIguessyouwon’thaveme.Workforit.Treatmeasyourequal.No.Knowwhat?Treatmeasyourbetter.BecauseIam.Iknowyouhatewomen.Iknowyouareleeryofthem,butunfortunatelyforyou,Iamone.Iwillnotacceptanythingshortofafairytale,Brennan,evenifit’swiththemonsterinthestory.”
Dumbfounded,Istaredather,waitingfor…whatexactly?Hertochangehermind?Shewasn’tgoingto.Shewantedafuckingfairytale,andsofarIgaveheranightmarewithasideofbetrayal.
“Nowleave,”shesaidprimly.
“Nix—”
Sheslammedherwindowinmyface,drawingthecurtainsshutforgoodmeasure.
Shekickedmeout.
Madenewrulesforourgame.
NowIneededtoplaybythemoradmitdefeat.
ThefirstthingIdidwhenIgotbacktomyapartmentwasflingthepantrydooropen,nearlysendingitoffitshinges.Therewasn’tmuchfoodthere.Andby‘much’Imeantatall.Therewasn’tanyfoodthereperiod.OnlypacksuponpacksofMarlborosimportedfromEurope,becauseAmericancigarettestastedlikefartsonfire.
IstaredatthepilesuponpilesofwhatAislinghadreferredtoascancersticks,wonderingifIwasreallyabouttodowhatIwasabouttodo.
Iwas.
Fuckit.Itooksixbulletsinmylifetime.Icoulddothis.
Igrabbedallthepacksandshovedthemintofourrecyclingbags,includingthepackthatwasinmypocket,andtossedeverythingintothebuilding’sdumpster.
ThenIwentbackupstairsandstaredattheemptyashtrayonmycoffeetable.
ProvingtoAislingthatItookherseriouslyjustmightturnintomyideaofanightmare.
AndsohelpmeGod,shebettercomearoundfuckingquicklyorheadsweregoingtorollonthestreetsofBoston.
Myphonestartedringinginmyskirt’spocketwhileIhuggedMrs.Martinezgoodbyeattheclinicdoor.Tuggingitout,IwassurprisedtoseeSam’snameflashingonthescreen.Ihadsavedhisnumberthattimehecameinwithhisinjuredsoldiersjustincasebutneverexpectedhimtocallme.Idrewafirmlinebetweenoptimismandstupidity,andthatseemedlikethethresholdforit.
Whatdidhewant?
“Everythingokay?”Mrs.Martinez’sfacecloudedasshedrankinmyexpression.Herhairhadbeguntogrowagain,fluffyandstrewnaboutherheadlikelittlecloudsnowthatshe’dstoppedherchemotherapytreatments.Shewasfeelingbetter.Sometimesitworkedthatwayafterchemo.Sheoptedtostopbecauseherdoctorhadtoldhertherewasnohopeforremission.Butwenowhadnewhope.Shewastakinganexperimentaldrugthatwassupposedtoshrinkthetumoronherpancreas.
Iwasfeelinghopefulshecouldliveacomfortablelifeformonths,maybeevenacoupleyears.
“Yeah.”Ismiledbrightly,noddingasIallbutpushedheroutthedoor.“Sorry.Ijusthadamomentthere.Everythingisfine.”
“Youknow…”Shestopped,diggingherheelsintothefloor,grinning.“Ineveraskedyouifyouaremarried.Areyou,Dr.F?”
Ihadn’tgivenanyofmypatientsmyrealfullname.Ineededtotakesafetymeasurestoensuremytrackswerecoveredincasethingswentsouth.
“Notevenremotely.”Myfingerstightenedaroundmyphone,whichkeptbuzzing.“I’mmorbidlysingle,I’mafraid.”
“Hmm.”Shelookedthoughtful.“Thereisnothingmorbidaboutyoursituation,dear.Youwillbemarriedsoon.”Mrs.Martinezwinked.“Iknowaboutthingslikethat.”
“Youdo?”Iasked,mysmilethinanddistracted.
Please,lady,letmeanswerthis.
Shenoddedenthusiastically.
“Absolutely.IwasafortunetellermywholelifebeforeIretired.TraveledaroundwithAquilaCarnival.Doyouknowit?Theystopeverysummerjustoutsidethecity.”
AquilaFestivalwaswherethemostmonumentalpartofmylifehadhappened.WhereImetSam.
“IpredictedI’dgetcancer,alltheroyalweddingsanddivorces,andtheexactorderofKateandWilliam’sbabiesbygender…”herchestpuffedproudly“…andletmetellyou,mysweet,youwillgetmarriedandsoon.Maybeeventothepersonwhotriedtocallyourightnow.”ShejerkedherchintothephoneIwasclutching.
IdroppedmyeyestoitandrealizedImissedthecall.
“Don’tworry.”Mrs.Martinezroseonhertiptoes,kissingmycheek.“He’llcallagain.Hehassomethingimportanttotellyou.Goodbye.”
Iclosedthedoorafterher,frowningatmyphone,willingittoringagain.
Sureenough,itdid.
Hehassomethingimportanttotellyou.
Swipingafingeracrossthescreen,Ireceivedthecall.
“Whatdoyouwant?”IputonthemostboredtoneIcouldfindinmyarsenalofvoices.
“You,spreadeagleonmybed,wearingnothingbutwhippedcreamandmyfavoriteplease-fuck-me-Samexpression,”hesaiddarkly.
Ididnotreply.RespondingtohisbanterwouldsuggestI’dforgivenhim.
“Ineedyourhelp,”hesaidafterabeat.
“Youneedhelp…Icanagreewiththat.Butitwon’tbemine,Sam.I’mdonehandingyoufavorsjusttowatchhowyouscrewmeover.”Iambledbackintomyoffice,pinningthephonebetweenmyearandshoulderasIscrubbedmyhandscleaninthesink.
“Actually,youseemtohaveadoginthisfight.RememberthatRussiankidfromthenightwestayedatthecabin?”
“Yes,”Isaidimmediately.OfcourseIrememberedhim.Hehauntedmeinmydreams.Theliquidfearinhiseyes.Thewayheshookandbeggedforhislife.ThepainSamhadinflictedonhimwhenheshothisarm.
“Well,heisrightherewithme,sufferingfromachestwound.Shallow,Ithink.ThingswentalittlesidewayswiththeRussians,andhegotcaughtinthemiddleofit.”Samdeliveredtheinformationblandly,likehewasreadingmefoodoptionsfromamenu.
“Bringhimover,”Iordered.
“We’rejustpullingupinfrontofyourclinic,”hesaidandhungup.
IpreparedtheexaminationtableforthenewpatientasImulledoverhowoddSamwas.He’dpromisedhewouldcourtmeonChristmas,andIsupposehedid,inhisownway.Hesentmeflowersyesterdaywithasimpleunsignednotebearinghisname,andapieceofjewelry,IsupposeasalateChristmasgift.
Buthedidn’tcowerorbeg.Didn’tcomeknockingonmydoor.
Hewasn’texactlychasingme.Morelikespeed-walkingwhiletakingfrequentwaterbreaks.Hestillhadalongwaytogo.Buthewasstillintraining.
Afewmomentslater,therewasaknockonthedoor.Iopenedit,findingSamandtheRussiankidleaningagainstthegiganticmanIhatedtolove.
Islantedmyheadtowardmyoffice.Samfollowedme,draggingthetall,scrawnyboyalong.Itriedtoignoretheacutebeautyofmyfavoritemonster.Howtallandstrongandcordedwithmuscleshewas.Thedeeptanofhisskinandthosefull-mooneyesthatalwayslookedtranquilandcold,likeacrispDecembernight.TherewassomethingelseabouthimIfoundattractivetoday,butIcouldn’tputmyfingeronit.
Somethinghadchanged,evenifitwassubtle.
Samunloadedtheganglykidontotheexaminationtable,andItookscissorstotheboy’sshirtandstartedcuttingitoffofhischest.
“What’syourname?”Ismiledattheboy.
“Ruslan,”hebreathed,wincingashespoke,wettinghislipswithhistongue.“RuslanKozlov.”
“Howoldareyou,RuslanKozlov?”
“Fourteen.”Histeethchattered,andafewacnezitsweregushingblood,probablyfromthestress.Hewasaspaleassnow,andIknewheneededabloodtransfusionfast.
“Tellmeaboutthewound,”Imurmured,keepingcalmasIputonlatexgloves.
Hedid.ItwasoneofSam’ssoldierswhohadshothiminBratvaterritory—orwhatusedtobetheirterritorybeforeSambuttedin.RuslanwasrunningerrandsforVasilyMikhailov,whomIgatheredwasthelocalunderboss.SamcameinwithhisentouragetothreatenVasily,andthingsgotoutofcontrol.
“Sowhydidn’tVasilygetyoumedicalcare?”Ifrowned.“Youarehissoldier,notSam’s.”
Theboysmiled.“Yeah.MikhailovisnotlikeBrennan.Hedoesn’tcareabouthissoldiers.Heisarealmonster.”
Somethingwarmfloodedmychest.Itriedtellingmyselfitmeantnothing.
Luckily,Ruslanknewhisbloodtype,soIwasabletocallafriendofminefrommedschoolwhoworkedatthehospitalandsometimes—ontherareoccasionIaskedhim—providedmewithbloodunitsfortransfusion.IsentSamtopickitupwithacoolerIhadstashedintheclinicwhileIstayedandtendedtoRuslan.
WhenSamcamebackwiththeblooddonation,hewantedtohangaroundintheroom,butIbarkedathimtoleave.
AfterItookcareofRuslan’swound,Iputhimonsedativesandtookoffmygloves,joiningSaminthewaitingroom.Hewassittingonthecouch,messingwithhisphoneandhairatthesametime.HestoodupalertlytheminuteIappeared.
“He’llbefine.”Itriedsmoothingmyhairintosomethingthatresembledaponytail.“I’mgladyoubroughthimin,though.”
Hestaredatmequietly,likehewaslookingatmeforthefirsttime.Theheatfloodingmycheekswasunbearable.
“Moveinwithme,”hesaidsuddenly.
“What?”Mybreathcaughtinmythroat.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?Wehaven’tevengoneonadateyet.”
“Adate?”Hespatoutthewordlikeitwasdirty.“Wedon’tneedtogoondates.We’veknowneachothersincebeforeyouwereallowedtovote.I’mpickingupfromwhereweleftoffafteryourlittlecabinstint,Aisling.I’mnotstartingfromscratch.”
“You’restartingfromwhereverIwantyoutostartoryouarenotstartingatall,”Iannounced,givinghimthestinkeye.“AndIcan’tmoveinwithyou.”
“Why?”hedemanded.“Youwanttomoveout.Andyoushould.Youarekissingthirty,Nix.Twenty-sevenisnospringchicken.Andyourparentsdon’tneedababysitteranymore.They’resortingtheirshitout,liketheyshouldhavedonethreedecadesago.Yourmotherisgoingtotherapy.Yourbrotherstoldme.You’rewelcomeforthatlittlepush,bytheway.”
Welcome?
HewasnowtakingcreditforthefactmyfathermovedbackintoAveburyCourtManorandbothmyparentsattendedtherapytogether?Unreal
Itookastepback,staringathimlikehewasacompleteloon.
“Firstofall,theyareattendingtherapybecauseyouscarredthemforlife,notpushedthemtogether.”
“To-may-to,to-ma-to.”
“Secondly,”Ihissed,“Idon’tmakeanymoneyofmyownandcan’taffordtopayrent.”
“Youpayingrentwasneveronthefuckingtable,”hequipped.“Iownmyplace.”
“Iwillnotbefreeloading.”
“Nothingaboutthisarrangementisfree,Aisling.There’saheavypricetopaywhenyouareshackingupwithamanlikeme.”
“You’restillbeingachauvinistpig.”Ifoldedmyarmsovermychest.
Hetookastepforward,crowdingmeashebrushedafly-awayfrommycheek.“No,Nix,I’mtakingwhatIwant.What’smine.AndwhatIdeserve.”
“Youdon’tdeserveme.”
Hesmiled.“Iusedtothinkthatwastrue,too.ThenIfoundoutwhatyoudohereinthisclinic.Wearenotsodifferent,youandI.Theonlythingseparatingusissemantics.”
Igasped.“Don’tyoudare.WhatIdois—”
“Beautiful.Andalsoillegal.Inasaturatedpopulation,lifeisalwayscheap,”hereplied,hisbreathfanningacrossmyface,makingeverycellinmybodytinglewithneedandanticipation.
“You’restillbeinganasshole,”Iinformedhim.
Heleanedforward,sayingthewordsashislipstracedmine,speakingintomymouth.“Ineverpromisednottobeanasshole.Ionlypromisedtobeyourasshole.”
“Whataboutotherwomen?”Iwasstartingtofeelit.ThewayIliquefiedinhisarms.“Whathappenswhenyougrowtiredofme?”
“Iwillnevergrowtiredofyou.”Histongueglidedbetweenmylips,pryingthemopenashekissedmedeeply.Ilethim,despitemyinhibitions,andmybetterjudgment,andthefactthatIknewthiswastheoppositeofwhatIwastryingtodo.
Ibecamelaxinhisarms,enjoyingthesteadinessofhimashistonguerolledaroundmine.Hisfingersdugintomyskull,grippingmyhair.
“Alltheseyears,Nix,Ithoughtaboutyou.EverytimeIfuckedsomeoneelse.EverytimeIbroughtsomeoneintomyoffice.I’dclosemyeyesanditwasyouI’dsee.ThenI’drememberyourfamilywoulddestroyusifIhadyou.Theywouldneverletthatfly.IwouldrememberhowI’dfuckyourlifeupifItouchedyou.Ifyoubecamemine.IfyouwereprivytoallthebloodIshed.Ididn’twanttobringyouintomymess,butnowthatIknowthatwe’rebothscrewed-upandimperfect,itchangesthings.”
“Andyouhavemyfather’sapproval.”Iputahandonhischest,pushinghimaway.“How?”
Hegrinned.“IthinkyourfatherfiguredoutIamwillingtogofurthertogetyouthanheiswillingtogotoprotectyou.Heisnotastupidman,Ash.HeknowsIalwaysgetwhatIwant.AndwhatIwantishisdaughter.”
“Yourkiss.”Ifrowned.“Ittasteddifferent.”
“Iquitsmoking.”Hearchedaneyebrow,lookingmoreannoyedthangloating.
“Youdid?”Myheartdidaweirdflipinmychest.“Why?”
“Yousaidyouhatedit.Yousaidyoudon’twanttofeellikeyou’rekissinganashtray.”
“Youshouldhavedoneitbecauseyouwanttolivetoaripeoldage.”
“Well,thatmightnotbeinstoreformewithmylineofworkanyway,butwhileIdolive,I’dratherdoitwithyoubymyside.”
Hesaidalltherightthings,anddidalltherightthings,andstill,Icouldn’tforgivehim.Notnow.Notyet.NotwhenIknewthathewassoclosetodestroyingmyfamily.
Itookastepback,soberingup.
“WhataboutmybanfromBadlands?”Iasked.Thechangeoftopicseemedtohavethrownhimoff,too,becausehecockedhishead,examiningmecoldly.
“Whataboutit?”
“Liftit.”Itiltedmychinup.
“Nix,”hesaiddarkly,narrowinghiseyes.“Iwillnothaveyouparadingaroundinskimpyclothesincloseproximityjusttomakemesuffer.”
“Yes,youwill,”Isaidairily.“Becauseyouwantme,andwhenyouwantsomeone,youmakesacrificesforthem—anddon’ttrytocontrolthem.Bettergetusedtoit.”
Heconsideredmywords,hisfacetwisting.
“Onecondition.”
Irolledmyeyes.“Yes?”
“Havedinnerwithme.”
“Ithoughtwewerepastdating.”Icouldn’thelpbutgrin.
“Weare,”hesaiddryly.“Noonesaidfoodisgoingtobetheonlythingonthemenu.I’llcomepickthekidupinafewhours.”Heleaneddown,kissedmehard,turnedaround,andwalkedaway.
ItwasonlywhenhewasgonethatIrealizedthebastardhadmanagedtosnatchapieceofmyheartinhisfistyetagain.
Thief.
SampickedmeuponNewYear’sEve,wearingafull-blowntuxandasolemnscowlthatsuggestedSatanhimselfhadblackmailedhimintodoingthisatgunpoint.
“Foryou…”HeshovedabouquetofflowersintomyhandswhenIopenedthedoor,alldolledupinasheerwhitemini-dresspairedwithLouboutinboots.
Theywereamixoflilies,sunflowers,androses,inallshadesandcolors.
Ipressedthemtomynoseandgrinned.
“Thankyou.Letmeputtheminwater.”
“What’sthepoint?”Hegroaned,stillobviouslystrugglingwithnicotinewithdrawal.“They’lldieatsomepointanyway.”
“Justlikeus,”Iansweredwithasmallsmile.“Deathisnotareasontostopliving.”
Ilethimintothefoyerandwenttothekitchentofindavase.
WhenIroundedthecornertocomebacktothehallway,IstoppeddeadinmytracksatthesoundofmyfatherandSamspeaking.
“…treatherwell.Sheisstillmydaughter.Nothingwillchangethat,Brennan,evenifIhavetogodowninflames.Shecomesfirst,”IheardAthairsay.
Merde.
SamwasboundtosaysomethingprovocativeandcrassjusttopissDaoff.Thatwasthewayheoperated.
Tomysurprise,Samreplied,“I’lltreatherwell,Gerry.Betterthanyouandyourwifehaveforthepasttwenty-sevenyears.ButI’mlettingyouknowrightnow,I’mmovingherinwithmeinthenextfewweeks.Ican’tstandhowsheisheretocatertoyourwife’severywhimlikeshe’sanewbornbaby.”
“That’suptoher,”Dasaid.“AndIdon’tthinkit’sasbadnow.Notsincethehospitalization.CillianandHunterhavebeentakingamoreproactiveapproachwiththeirmother.”
Dawasn’twrong.Ididhaveabitmorefreetime,butMotherstillhadalongwaytogo.
“Givemeacoupleweeksandshe’llbemoreattachedtome.”Samputalidontheconversation,firmbutnotcrass.
Iclearedmythroat,steppingfromthekitchenandmakingmyselfknown.Bothmenfroze.Sam’seyeslandedonme.
“Readytogo?”heasked.
Inodded,myheartmissingabeatagaintothesightofhiminatux.
“Makeitfast,though,Brennan.Iwantanearlyevening.Ihaveworktomorrow.”
“You’rekiddingme.”Isatinhiscar,speechlessanddumbfounded.
SamthrewthePorscheintoparkandgotout.Fiftyminutesafterhepickedmeup,wewereatCanobieLakePark,theclosestseriousamusementparktoBoston.Samroundedthecarandopenedthedoorforme.Isteppedout,wrappingmycoataroundme.
“It’sfreezingoutside,”Icomplained.
“I’llkeepyouniceandcozy.”Hetuggedatmyhand,leadingmetotheentrance.
“Bulletproofplantocopafeel,”Igrumbled.
“Youwoundme,”hesaidflatly.
“No,Idon’t.”
Hewalkedrightintotheopengate,notbotheringwithpurchasingticketsatthecashier.
“Theplaceisempty.”Iblinked.
Samscannedtheparkaroundusabsentmindedly,notbotheringtolookremotelysurprised.
“Itappearsthatway.DidIfailtomentionIrentedtheentirething?Ithoughtitwouldbenicetohavesomeprivacyforafuckingchange.Therealwaysseemstobetoomanypeoplearoundus.”
“Andtherides?”Iturnedtolookathim,myhearttwistinginmychest.
Hechuckedmychinwithasmile.“Allmannedupandreadytoroll.”
“Thatmust’vecostaprettypenny.”Iclearedmythroat.
“Well,thewomanIamdatingiskindofusedtothebest.”
Thatwasn’ttrue.EventhoughIcamefrommoney,IneverenjoyeditquiteasmuchaspeoplethoughtIdid,andthatmademeevenmoreemotional.
“Oh,Sam.”Ilookedaway,sohecouldn’tseehowdeeplyIblushed.
Tenyearsago,Icametoafairallbymyself,lonely,lost,andsad.
Now,IwasatathemeparkwiththemanIfellinlovewithbymyside.
Hewantedmetohaveado-over.
Adifferentspinonthemonsterride.
“Yougotmegoodwiththetux.Ithoughtweweregoingsomewhereexpensive.”Igrinned,takingastepbackfromhim,becauseyetagainitwashardnottojumphisboneswhenhewasbeingsweet—oratleastnotafull-blownasshole.
“Itisfuckingexpensive,Nix.EverrentedathemeparkonNewYear’sEve?Nowwheredoyouwanttostart?”
Westaredateachother,smirking.
Myreplywasimmediate.“Whatever’sscariest.Somethingwithmonstersinit.”
“TheMineofLostSouls,”hesaid.
“Mine’snotsolostanymore,”Imurmured,takinghisoutstretchedhand.
Heledtheway.
Weboardedatrainresemblingaminecart.Iknewtheridewasthemedaroundafictionalminethatwasabouttocollapse.
Theteenagerwhomannedtherideapproachedustocheckweweresecureinourseats,grinningatSamandofferinghimafistbumpthatremainedunansweredintheair.Irolledmyeyes.
“Hewasbeingnice.”
“HewasoglingyouandimaginingwhatI’lldotoyouwhentherideisdone.”
TheridestartedandSam’shand,whichIdidn’tevennoticewasrestingonmyknee,slidupmythigh,makingmydresshikeuptomywaist.Hisfacewasstillturnedtotheotherside.Totheminersandmonstersaroundus.Thestoryofthecollapsingmineunfolded.
“When?”Samasked,hisfingersbitingintomythighs,skimmingmyunderwear.
“Whenwhat?”Iswallowed.
“Whendidyoufigureoutwhoyouwere?Inthetimelinebetweenseventeenandnow.Itcouldn’thavebeenthenightwemet.Thatwasthebeginningofthings.You’reafully-formedpersonnow.”
Igaveitsomethought,eventhoughhisfingerspushingmyunderwearsideways,dippingintomywetcore,mademeshudderandlosemytrainofthought.Istartedbreathinghard,feelingmynipplespuckeringundermybra.
“Honestly?”Iheardmyselfsay.“EverysingletimeImetyou,youchippedatsomethinginme.Idon’tknowhowtoexplainit,butthereissomethingaboutyou,somethingformidableandscaryandimpossible,thatmakesapersonrealizewhotheyarewhentheydealwithyou.It’slikelookingdeathintheeye.”
Iturnedquietforasecondthensaid,“Iknowsheisdeadanditmightnotmeanmuch,butdoyouthinkyou’lleverforgiveCat?”
MyunderlyingquestionhadnothingtodowithCatalina.WhatIwantedtoknowwas—wouldheeverbeabletoloveawoman?
Sam’sfingercurledinsideme,pushingindeeperandharderandfaster.Ibegantopant.Heturnedhisheadtowardme,hismouthfindingmineinthedark,slantingovermylipspossessively.
“Idon’tneedtoforgiveCat.Somewherealongtheroadofscrewingeverythingupwithyou,IfoundoutthatIdon’thatewomenallthatmuch.IloveSparrow,andSailor,andI’mprettysureIwillfuckingkillanyonewhogetsanywhereclosetoRooneyuntilshehitsthirty.”
Imoanedintohiskiss,half-laughing,half-groaning,clutchinghimcloseastheridedrewtoanend,spinningandslidingfromheretothere.
Theonlypeopleintheworldweremeandhim.
Myorgasmwaswithinreach.Icouldfeelmybodyhummingtotherhythmofhisfingersinsideme.
“Istillwantrevenge,”Icroakedintohismouth.“Don’tthinkyou’vewonmeoverjustyet.Youhaven’t.”
“Iknow,”hegrunted,lettingmeridehiswholehandnowbeneathmydress.Myhipsbuckedtowardhisarm,andIthrustandmoanedshamelessly,theclimaxtakingovermybodylikeatsunami.
“Monster,Monster,Monster,”Ichanted,breathinghisnicknamein,thinkinghowhewasrightallthoseyearsago,whenIaskedhimwhathisnamewas.
ItwasalwaysMonster.
AndIwashisNix.
Maybeitwasthebestnightofmylife.
Thethingaboutmagicalmomentsisthattheywraparoundyoulikeacloak,shieldingyoufromreality,numbingyoursenses.
Butitfeltlikeeverythingwasilluminated.Theairwasfresher,mylungsfuller,andmyskintingledwithadrenalineandwarmth.
Fromthejunkfoodweconsumed—sweetandsaltypopcorn,candyapples,andhotspikedciders—andtherides.Tensecondsbeforemidnight,wemadeourowncountdownandkissedonthemerry-go-round,eachofussittingontopofaunicorn.Bythetimewelefttheamusementpark,itwashalfpasttwointhemorning,andIknewIwasgoingtohatebothmyselfandSamwhenIwokeupinafewhoursforanothergruelingshiftatDr.Doyle’sclinic.
IbuckledupnexttoSaminthecar,stillridingthehighoftheevening.
“Youneedtoquityourjob,”hesaidoutofnowhere,startingthecar.
Iwhippedmyheadinhisdirection,mymouthgoingdry.Itwaslikehethrewabucketfulloficewateronmyface.
“Excuseme?”
“You’reexcused,butthisweekisyourlastatthehorrorclinic.”Hekickedthevehicleintodrive,hiseyescoolanddisciplinedontheroad.“It’stoodangerous.There’stoomuchatstakehere.Iwon’tletyouputyourselfinavulnerableposition.”
“WhatIdowithmylifeisnoneofyourbusiness,”Iremindedhim.
“Everythingyoudoismybusiness,andyouwillnotcontinuedoingillegalshitthatcouldleadtoyouspendingtherestofyourlifeinprison,nomatterhowgoodyourintentionsare.EitheryouconcedewillinglyorIwillhavetogotoDr.Doylemyselfandtugatafewstrings.Spoileralert:I’vebeenknowntotearapartthingsIdon’tlike.”
“IfyougotoDr.Doyle,Iwillneverspeaktoorseeyouagain.”Itrainedmyvoicetosoundblasé,keepingmyragingemotionsoutofit.Ihadtoremindmyselfhewastryingtoprotectme,evenifhehadaweirdwayofgoingaboutit.“AndI’llaskmyfathertofireyoujusttospiteyou,makingsureweareeven.Youknowhewill,aftereverythingthatwentdown.Twocanplaythisgame,Brennan.Iwillnotbepushedaroundbyyou.Notanymore.”
“It’sadisasterwaitingtohappen,”hehissed,tryingtokeephimselfincheck.IknewSamwasn’twell-versedinnegotiations.Henormallyjusttookwhathewanted,whenhewantedit.Hewastryingtomakeaneffort.
“It’snoteventhatbad,”Iargued.Weslidontothehighway.DecembergavewaytoJanuary.Itseemedlikeeverythingintheworld—thetrees,theroads,thebuildings—wascoatedwithathinlayerofcrystal-bluefrost,includingSam’sheart.“WhatIdoisperfectlylegalinavarietyofcountries.Switzerland,forinstance.ButalsoBelgium,WesternAustralia,Columbia—”
“Noticewhatcountryyouomittedfromthelist?”
Iturnedtolookathim.
“TheUnitedStatesoffucking’Murica.Hereitisillegal,ergoyouwillnotbedoingit.”
“You’reright.”Ichewedonmylowerlip.“MaybeIshouldmovetoSwitzerland.”
“Yourbackwardlogicneverceasestoamazeme,”hegrunted.“Wearen’tmovingtoSwitzerland,sweetheart,nomatterhowmuchyoulikekillingpeople.”
Therewasawe?Sincewhenwasthereawe?Andwhydiditmakemyheartsqueezeinsidemychest?
Becauseyoustilllovehim,moncheri.You’vealwayslovedhim.Heisyourforever,evenifyouareonlyhisrightnow.
“Why?”Ifeignedinnocence.“Youcandowhatyoudoanywhere.Idon’trememberbeingamobsterrequiringhighSATandIQscores.Andit’snotlikeyou’llhaveajobinterviewtofail.”
“Youdonebeingsassy?”
“Notquite.”Igrinned,pleasedwithmyselfforholdingmyown.
“IowntoomuchofBostontoletitgo,”Samexplained,lettinganotherverbalattackfrommyendrolloffhisback.
“DoesrulingBostonmakeyouhappy?”Igavehimasidelongglance.“Doesanythingmakeyouhappy?”Iaddedquietly.
“Youmakemehappy,”hesnapped,disgustedwithhimself.“You,andyourblue,blueeyesandthroatyvoiceandgood,fairheartanddark,depravedsoul.”
Itwasfascinatingtoseehimlikethis.Aninjuredanimalcorneredintotalkingabouthisfeelings.Ididn’twanttopushhim,soIturnedtolookattheviewfromthewindow,smilingtomyself.
WhenwegottoBoston,Inoticedhewasdrivingtohisplace,notmine.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Idemanded.“Itoldyou,Ihaveworkinthemorning.”
“Ialreadypackedhalfyourfuckingroomandmoveditintomyplace,Sherlock.Chancesarewhateveryouwereplanningtowearinthemorningisalreadyatmyapartment.Bonuspoints…youdon’thavetopretendtowearscrubsandchangewhenyougettotheclinicbecauseIalreadyknowyoursecret.”Hekilledtheengineandgotoutofthecar.
Ifollowedhim,mymouthhangingopeninastonishment,delight,andirritation.OnlySamcouldsetallthreeonfireatthesametime.
“How?”Idemanded.“When?”
Samtookoutapairofkeysfromhispocket,danglingthembetweenhisfingersinfrontofmyface.Irecognizedthemtobemyhousekeys.
“How?Duplicatedthesepuppiesafewdaysago.When?Mostlywhenyouwereatwork.Sometimeswhenyouwereasleep.It’samazinghowmuchcanescapeyou.Remindmetonevertrustyouwithasafe.Theburglarwouldstealitandyouandyouwouldn’tevennotice.”

ThatnightIfuckedNixthewayI’dalwaysplannedto.
Inleisure,withoutfeelingherfamilybreathingdownmyfuckingneck.
Bentherovermydeskandplowedintoherwhileshescreamedmyname.
Thenagaininmybedandanothertimeonthekitchencounter.
Afterthefifthtime,webothfellintobed,exhaustedandsweaty.
Forthefirsttimeinmylife,Ifellasleepwithsomeonebymyside.Feltawoman’swarmthnexttomine.
Therewasstillsomewaytogo.Shehadtoquithergod-awfuljobandtakeamoretraditionalpositionasadoctor.Butweweregoingplaces.
WhenIwokeupinthemorning,Iturnedoveronmybackandflunganarmouttoher.Hersideofthebedwascold.
Iopenedoneeye,frowning.
Shewasgone.
Sheleftanoteonthenightstand.

Thanksforthesex,butyouarestillnotoffthehook.
—Nix.

Aislingrefusedtoseemethenextday.
Andthedayafterthat.
Andthedayafter.
Shedidn’ttakemycalls,didn’tshowupwhenIdroveovertoherhouse,andwouldn’treadmytextmessages.
Andthereweresofuckingmanyofthem.
MuchmorethanI’deversentanyoneelse.
Sam:Stopactinglikeachild.
Sam:AllIneedistoshowupattheclinicifIwanttoseeyou.
Sam:Youprovedyourpoint.Wecanrenegotiateyourjob.
Sam:You’regettingonmylastnerve,Nix,andyoudon’twanttoseewhathappenswhenIfinallysnap.
Sam:ThisiswhyIneverwantedarelationship.
Forbetterorworse,thelastsentencetriggeredher,becauseshechosetoreply
Nix:Nooneisforcingyoutobewithme.
Sam:That’snotentirelytrue.
Somethingwas,infact,forcingmetobewithher.Mylackofabilitytokeepawayfromher.Ignoringherwasmanageablebeforewefellintobed,beforewespenttimetogether,beforeIfoundoutthingsabouther.Pussywaspussy,andwithmyeyesclosed,itwaseasytoimaginefuckingAislingwhenIwasdeepinsidesomeoneelse.
Butnooneelsewasgoingtocutitnow,nomatterhowmuchIwantedtoturnaroundandwalkawayfromher.
Itwasgoingtobedifficultandmaddeninganddefinitelytakemeoutofmycomfortzone,butIcouldn’tnothaveher,howeverhowmuchItried.
Nix:Areyougoingtoelaborate?
Sam:No.
Sam:Havedinnerwithmetonight.
Nix:Notuntilyouapologize.Youmovedmythingsintoyourapartment,Sam.Withoutasking.Whodoesthat?
Sam:I’massumingthisisahypotheticalquestion.
Nix:We’lldothingsmywaynow.Andmywaymightbefrustratingtoyou.It’saboutwhatI’mcomfortablewith,notaboutmakingyoupay.
Sam:You’realreadymakingmepay.I’mnotaccustomedtonotgettingwhatIwant.
Nix:Lifeishard.
Sam:SoamI.
Nix:YousoundlikeHunter.
Iwas.
IfinallyrealizedwhyHunterwassoobsessedwithmysister.WhyCilliancouldn’ttearhimselfawayfromPersephone.Therewassomethingaddictingaboutawomanwhogaveyouhereverything.Somethingthatwashardtowalkawayfromonceyou’dtastedit.
Sam:Iwillhaveyou,onewayortheother.
Nix:We’llseeaboutthat.
Thatwaswhatshedidn’ttakeintoaccount.
Ittookamonstertodestroyamonster.
AndIwasgoingtodevourherwhole.
SamandIspentthenexttwomonthsplayingthischessgame.
Wheneverhe’dmakeamovetoobold,I’dretreat.
Imadehimworkforit.Workforitlikehehadn’tinanentiredecade.Therewassomethingtobesaidaboutunrequitedlove.Ittaughtyouresilienceandbraveryandstrength.Now,thetableshadturned,andIwantedhimtoshowmeIwasn’ttheflavorofthemonth.ThatIwasworthyofhisattention,hisaffection,hiseverything.Icouldn’tallowhimtotakewhatIhadofferedforfreefortenyears.
Ihadtoputapricetagonmyabsolutedevotion.
Andthatpricetagwaslove.
Iwantedtofeelloved.
Aswitheverythinghedid,SambroughthisA-gametothetable.
Hewouldcornermeinplaces,followme,stealdirtykisseswhennoonewaswatching.Maybeanothergirlwouldhavebeenalarmedbyit,butIrelishedhisattention.Hisnewdesperationformytouch.
HewaitedformeoutsideaThairestaurantwhenIwentoutwithPersy,Sailor,andBelle,snatchingmeintoadarkalleyandkissingmeroughly,hishandsbetweenmylegspushingmyskirtup.
Threedayslater,heambushedmeoutsidetheclinic,draggedmeintohiscar,andfuckedmerawinthebackseat,givingmeasmallheartattackandaragingorgasm.
Fourdaysafter,IvisitedhisapartmenttograbadressIwantedtowearforacharityevent.Mostofmyclotheswerestillathisplace,andeventhoughhe’dleftmethecodeforhisapartmentlock,herefusedtoletmetakemythingsbacktoAveburyCourtManor.
Oneday,Icaughthimsittingonastoolbyhiskitchenisland,catchinguponsomeworkonhislaptop.WhenItrudgedinandyankedmydesiredArmanidressfromthecloset,heraisedhiseyesfromthelaptopcoldly.IexpectedhimtostopmeandhavehiswaywithmebeforeImademywayoutoftheapartment,butallhedidwassalutemewithatouchofhisfingerstohisforehead,biddingmegoodbye.
Istoppedbythedoor,confused.
“Aren’tyougoingtotrytosleepwithme?”
Thesubtextwasobvious:Iamgoingtosleepwithyou,butI’mnotgoingtomoveinwithyou.Iwillnotcommittoyou.IwillnotgiveyoumorethanIamreadytogive.
Samkepthiseyesonthescreen.
“Doyouwantmetotrytosleepwithyou?”
“No.”Yes.
Hesmirked,hiseyesstillonthescreen.“Seemslikewedon’thaveaproblem,then.”
“That’sachangeIdidn’tseecoming.”
Forsomereason,myfeetweregluedtohisfloor.Icouldn’tleavewithoutfiguringoutwhathadchanged.
Hadhefinallygivenuponus?MaybehedecidedIwassimplynotworththeeffort.Iwantedtopunchmyownfaceforputtinghimthroughsomuch.Butthenagain,Ididn’tregretanyofit.Hedeservedtorepentforwhathe’ddonetomyfamily,andIwasn’tsurehewasdonepaying.
“MaybeIdecidedtosavemyselfformarriage,”hemurmured,takingasipfromtheglassofbrandysittingnexttohim.
Staringathimdumbly,Ishiftedthedressonthehangerfromoneshouldertotheother.
“UsuallyyoudothatbeforesleepingwithenoughpeopletobreakaGuinnessWorldRecord,”Ipointedout.
Hefinallyliftedhiseyesfromthescreen.
“Well,I’manunorthodoxguy.Betterlatethannever.”
“Iguessthisiswhereourjourneyends,then.”Iputonabraveface,forcingmyselftosmile.Internally,Iwasshouting,“Merde,merde,merde”tothemoon.
Hewasdumpingme.IknewIwasmakingthingshardforhim,butSamnevershowedanysignsoflookingtiredordistressed.Ifanything,hetookournewgameinastrideandalwayshadthatdangerous,mischievousglintinhiseyesofamanentertainedbyhavingtoworkforitforachange.
“Guessso.”Hetookanothersipofhisdrink,hiseyesneverwaveringfrommine.“Unlesswegetmarried.”
Ithrewmyheadbackandlaughedhysterically.
Getmarried.Us.Goodone.
“Nevergonnahappen,”Iprovided.
“Unlikely,”heagreed.“Youcanstillsuckmycockeverynowandagain,butsexisoffthetable.”
“That’ssomethingIcanlivewith,”IsaidwithmoreconvictionthanIfelt.“Andthanksfortheoffer,butI’llpass.”
He’dnodded.
“HaveagreatnightattheFishers’charityball.”
“Howdoyouknowthat’swhereI’mgoing?”
“Iknoweverythingaboutyou,Nix,includingwhereyoutakeyourlunchesatwork—thelittlebackyardonawhitebench—andwhatyoueat—hopeyouenjoyedyouroatmealbartoday.”
Ididn’tdancewithanyoneatthecharityball.
Iwasnailedtomyseat,punished,thinkingaboutonething—marriage
Afterthatnight,Samdidseekmeoutagainandweneverwentallthewayanymore.Neverclawedateachother’sclothesorhadwildsex.
HeshowedupinplacesIwenttobutonlyenjoyedheavypettingandkissing.EverytimeItriedtostirhimintofull-blownsexterritory,hewouldclaphishandovermywristandsay,“Youcan’tsamplethegoodsanymore,Nix.Youbreakit,youpayforit.Moveinwithme.”
“No.”
Itwentonandonandon,weekinandweekout,toapointwhereIwasn’tsureifIwasnotdonehatinghimforwhathe’ddoneorifIwasjustenjoyingthechasetoomuch.ItwasentirelypossibleIlostmyselfsomewhereinourgame,andIdidn’tknowhowtofindmywaybacktowhatwewere.
Thetruthwas,Ididwanttomoveinwithhim.
Iwantedtomoveinwithhimverybadly.
NotbecausetakingcareofMotherwasdaunting—onthecontrary,shehadactuallybeenquiteokay,everythingconsidered—butbecauseImissedhimterriblyeverytimewewereapart.
Iwasjustafraidhewasgoingtobreakmyheartagain,andthistime,IknewIwouldn’tbeabletomenditbacktohealth.
Rightnow,wewereinthetwilightzone.Ontheedgeofsomethingdeepbutstillwiththepossibilityofswimmingbackashore.IwasafraidifIlostthatedge,myresistanceasaresultofbeingpushedaroundbyhim,hewouldconquerwhatlittleI’dkeptformyself,anditwouldbegameoverforme.
IthinkSamknewit,too.Thatwewerestuckinlimbo,andwedidn’tknowhowtostop.Evenourfamilies,wholittlebylittlebegantoseeeachotheragainfordinners,lookedatuswithpuzzledbewildermenteverytimeSamtreatedmegentlyinpublicandIgavehimthecoldshoulder.
Oneday,whenhecametomyhousetodropoffsomepaperworkforAthairandstayedforcoffee,hegrabbedmyhandfromacrossthetableandfrowned.
“Idon’tmindwaiting,Nix.IjustwantyoutoknowIappreciateyounotcomingtoBadlandsanddefyingme.”
“Defyyou?”Iyankedmyhandawayfromhimlikehewasmadeoffire,takingaslowsipofmytoohotcoffee.“Howdoyoumean?”
“IaskedyounottocometoBadlands,andyouagreed,eventhoughIliftedtheban.I’mgladyoustilltakedirectionswell.Youareanobedientgirldeepdown,aren’tyou,sweetheart?You’llbeeasytomanage.”
Mybloodbubbledwithrage.SomuchsoIdidn’ttakeasecondtodecodehiswordsorfigureoutifhewasgoadingme,deliberatelymovinganotherpieceinourchessgame.
“I’mnoteasytomanage.”Istoodupabruptly,yankingmycoffeefromthetable.“AndtheonlyreasonIhaven’tshowedupatBadlandsyetwasbecauseofmyworkload.Infact,IthinkI’llhityourclubthisweekend,justtogetonyournerves.”Ismiled,feelingmuchbetteraboutprovokinghimback.
Oui,moncheri.Alwaysshowingthematuritylevelofawettissue.
“Can’tfuckingwait,”Samdrawled,gettingupfromhisseat.
Justthen,myfathercameintothekitchen,holdinghisledgersunderhisarmpit,lookingbetweenus.
“Everythingokay?”
“Perfect.”Samgrinnedatme.“Absolutelyfuckingperfect.”
Stayingtruetomyword,IshowedupatBadlandsthefollowingweekend.
Asalways,IinvitedBelletojoinme.Ididn’ttellmyfriendsaboutSamyet,butthistimeithadnothingtodowithmyfearofbeingjudgedbythem.Thingswerestillcomplicatedbetweenhimandme,tosaytheleast,andmybrothersweren’tprivytowhatwasgoingon.
IknewSailorandPersyweregoingtoconfideinmybrothersnomatterwhat,andIdidn’twanttocomplicatethingsforallofusforsomethingthatmightnotmaterialize.
Bellelookedtobeingoodspiritsandreadytotacklethenightinaskintightredleathermini-dressandmatchinglipstick.Assoonaswegotintotheclub—thistimeIdidshowmyIDtothebouncers—sheheadedtothedancefloor.
Iwasstillshockedbythefacttheyletmein.
Thebalanceofpowerhadshifted,andtrue,Ididn’thavemostofit,butIdidn’thaveanylesspowerthanSamdidinourrelationshipeither.
HesaidIdidn’tcomehereoutofobedience,andIwantedtoshowhimitwasn’ttrue.Atthesametime,textinghimIwasherewastooblatant,tootransparent,andIknewthatifSamwashereonthepremiseschanceswerehewasn’tgoingtocometothedancefloor.
Iwantedtopresswhereithurt.ToshowSamIwasn’thislittleplaything.AndsoafterseeingBellewascontentonthedancefloor,ImarchedtowardthenarrowhallwaythroughwhichSamhadledmeallthosemonthsago,onHalloween,whenIdesperatelygotonmykneesforhim,takingthescrapshethrewmywaywhilemasqueradingasastranger.
Twoburlybouncersstoodattheedgeofthehallway,armscrossed,blockingmyway.
“Letmein.”Itiltedmychinup.
Theylookedatmeinamusementbutdidn’tmove.Asifthemereideawasridiculous.
Womenweren’tallowedinthecardrooms.Cillianoncetoldmetheofficialreasonforthatwasbecausegamblingandwhoreswenttogether,andSamdidn’twantrespectableladiesgettingharassedifhisgamblersgotthewrongidea.
“Hey.I’mtalkingtoyou.”Iwavedmyhandinfrontoftheirfaces.
“Nowomenallowed,”oneofthemspatonthefloor.
“I’mnotjustanywoman.”
Hiseyesrakedovermybody,headtotoe,haltingwhenhereachedmybreasts.“Seemstomelikeyouare.”
Itookoutmyphone,glidingmyfingeronthescreenuntilIgottoSam’scontactinformation,showingthemhisphonenumber.“HowaboutIcallBrennanandclearitwithhim?I’msurehe’llhavesomethingtosayaboutyounotlettinghisgirlfriendin.”
“Brennandoesn’thaveagirlfriend,”onesaid.
“Hedoesn’t?”Isnorted,myconfidencewaveringalittle.“Didn’tknowhespentalotoftimetalkingtohisbouncersabouthislovelife.MynameisAislingFitzpatrick.Checkwithhimifyouwant.”
Theonewhoseemedhell-bentonnotlettingmeinfishedhisphoneoutofhisfrontpocketreluctantly,punchinginSam’snumberwhileglaringatme.Myheartwasinmythroat.Thiswasthemakeorbreakmoment.SamwouldknowIwashere.Thebouncersaidmyname.AskedifIcouldcomein.Therewasapauseontheotherline.Theairwasstilldespitethehustleandbustleofpeople,drinks,music,andthelightsaroundus.Afterasecond,hehungupandbowedhishead,steppingsideways.Hiscolleaguewidenedhiseyes.
“I’llbedamned.Ithoughtpigswouldflysooner.”
“Keepthedreamalive.”Ipattedhisshoulder,shoulderingpastthem.
Ienteredthehallwayandpickedthebusiest,loudest,rowdiestcardroom.Thistime,IobservedmysurroundingsmorecarefullythanIdidthenightIcametofetchCillianandHunter.Ihadtolookbehindmyshoulderforthebouncersandwastoofilledwithwhite-hotragetopayattentiontoanythingbackthen.
Round,deepoaktableswithgreencenterssatacrosstheroomwithmeninexpensivesuitshuddledaroundthem,smokingfinecigarsanddrinkingbrandy.Theyalllookedlikevariationsofthemeninmyfamily—privileged,corrupt,anddesperateforcheapentertainment.Therewerealsowaitresseswearingtiny,blackbabydolls,leaningdownandtendingtotheclientele.
Scanningtheroom,Ilookedfortheblackjacktable.IknewhowtoplayTexashold’emandseven-cardstud,butmyrealspecialtyhadalwaysbeenblackjack.ItwasthefirstcardgameCillianhadtaughtme,andhemadeitapointtopracticewithmeduringChristmasEves,aftereveryonehadretiredbacktotheirrooms
Wekeptthattraditionalivefordecades,thisyearincluded.
IfoundthetableIwaslookingforandwaited.IknewgamblinginSam’sestablishmentwasgoingtomakehimexplodewithanger.MyheartpinchedalittlewhenIrealizedhemostlikelywasnotaround,butIforcedmyselftofindthesilverlining.Themereideaofmebeingherewithouthimwasgoingtobringhimclosertoaskingmetomoveinwithhimagain.
Whenthegamedrewtoaclose,IwedgedmyselfinthemiddleofthesemicircleofPrada-cladmen,beamingatthedealer.
“I’dlovetoplay.”
“Iwouldlovetoplayyou,”amiddle-agedmanbesidemejested,makingtheentirecircleofmenlaughcrudely.Irefusedtoletmysmiledrop.
“Wait,isn’tthis…?”Oneofthemfrownedatme.Ikeptmygazecarefullyonthedealer.“Whoa,itis.AislingFitzpatrick.Isn’tityourbedtime?Doesyourdaddyknowyou’rehere?”
Iwasthreeyearsshyofturningthirty,sothisdefinitelystung,butmaybeIdeserveditforputtingmyparents’needsbeforemineforalmostthreedecadesandstilllivingattheirplace.
Istaredatthedealer,ignoringtheidiottalkingtome.Theolderemployeeclearedhisthroat,wideninghisbowtiewithhisfinger.
“Ma’am,I’mafraid—”
“Don’tbeafraid.Fearisneveragoodlook.Letmeplay,”Idemanded,clingingontomyfalseconfidence.
Iwasbecomingawareofawarm,tinglysensationthatspreadfromthetopofmyheaddownmyspine.Iknewexactlywhatitmeant,andwhojustenteredtheroom,buthedidn’tmakehimselfknown.
“I’mnotsureitisuptome,ma’am.See,therearerulesregarding—”
“Me.Yes.Iknow.Brennanrescindedallofthem.”IrolledupthesleevesofmyBalmainmini-dress.“Samegoestowomengamblinginthecardrooms.I’mnotjustanywoman.I’mthewomanSamBrennanisengagedwithinabattleofthewills.Therulesdonotapplytome.Youcancallandaskhimyourself.That’showImadeithereinthefirstplace.”
“There’snobattle,sweetheart.IwonbeforeIlaidafingeronyou,butnicetry,”alowvoicemockedbehindme.Myheadsnappedtowardthedoor.Samstoodthere,wearingapalegraysuitwithaburgundyHermespocketsquarepokingoutofhisblazer.AgorgeoussininItalianloafers.Helookedreadyforadate.Readyforme,hisskingoldandwarm,hiseyesgrayandcold.
HeknewIwasgoingtocomeheretheminutehechallengedmetodoso,andIfellrightintohistrap.
Ilookedaway,ignoringhimandturningmyattentionbacktothedealer.Irememberedwhathetoldmeallthoseyearsago.
“Iwouldn’tbetwithme.”
“Why?”
“Ialwayswin.”
Forthefirsttimeinalongtime,Ididn’tfeelthewarmexcitementthatcamewithseeinghim,andmyinsidesdidn’tturnintobabyfoodastheyusuallyhad.Somethingabouthimfeltdaring,quiet,andonedgetonight.LiketheoldSam,theonewhodidn’twantme.IfeltlikehewasonthebrinkofshowingmeverypubliclyhowmuchIabusedhispatience.Ishiftedfromonefoottotheotheronmyhighheels.
“Shecanplay,underonecondition.”Samsauntereddeeperintotheroombehindme,hisvoicedrawingcloser,andIwasawareofthecuriousglancesthrownmyway.
Irefusedtoturnaroundandgivehimtheaudiencehedemanded.
“Usuallywhenamangivesyouhisword,itdoesn’tcomewithstipulations,”Imuttered,feelingthecolorrisinginmycheeks.
“I’mnotaman.I’mamonster.”Hestoppedbesideme,notremovinghisgazefrommyfaceforasecond.“Lookatme,Nix.”
Ididn’t.
Ilookedanywherebutathim.
“Iwillletyouplay,ifweplayeachother,”hefinished.
“It’sblackjack.Iwon’tbeplayingagainstyou.I’llbeplayingagainstthedealer.”Iturnedaround,facinghim.
Menwhistledandchuckled,enjoyingtheirfront-rowseattoourexchange.Theyobviouslyweren’tusedtoseeinganyonestanduptoSamBrennan,letaloneadaintywomaninadress.
Samsmiledcalmly.“Weplayhighstakeshere,MissFitzpatrick.”
“MySpideysensestellmeI’mgoodforit,”Ideadpanned,makingeveryoneintheroomeruptintorowdylaughter.Didhereallyjusttrytofinanciallyintimidateme?Ihadmoremoneythanallthemeninthisroomcombined.
“Amilliondollarsahand.Fivehands.Soundacceptable?”Iasked,myvoiceprimandproper,offeringhimmyhandforashake.
Theplaceexplodedwithhoots,laughter,andshrieks.Themenwereonfire.EveryonelookedatSamexpectantly,knowinghewasnotamantobowoutofachallenge.
Samglancedatmyoutstretchedhand,handsstillinhispockets,hisposturelazy.Hewasinnohurrytoanswer.
Heobviouslysavoredthismoment.Ourfirstpublicexchangeinthetenyearssincewe’dknowneachother.
“Youmeanfivemilliondollarsahand.”Hesmirked.
“Dang!”
“Ohmy!”
“Bryan,yougottacomehere.”
Ouraudiencegrewasmoremenyelledandgaspedtoeachother,peopletricklingfromnearbyrooms,craningtheirnecksasthethickcircleofbodiesaroundusgrewbiggerandtighter.Ifelttheringofmenaroundme,likeitwassqueezingmyneck.Cigaretteswereputdown,drinkswereleftunattended,everyonewaitedtohearmyreply.
“Famouslastwords.”Ihitchedoneshoulderup,raisingmyuntouchedhandaninch,hysteriacloggingupmythroat.JustbecauseIhadthiskindofmoneydidn’tmeanIwantedtoseetwenty-fivemilliondollarsflusheddownthedraininhalfanhour.
Ifeltmyarmpitsdampenandstartedsecond-guessingmycominghere.
WhydidIwanttopushhimsomuch?
“AndifIwin…”heraisedhispalmuptostopme“…youmarryme.”
Thedealerlookedbetweenus,droppingthestackofcardsinhishandinshock.Themiddle-agedmanwhopropositionedmerubbedhishandstogether.
“Thisisgonnabeastorytotellmygrandchildren.”
IstaredatSamsilently,stone-coldsober,searchingformockeryinhiseyes.Ifoundnone,butIstillcouldn’tbelievemyears.
“It’snotfunny.”Myvoicecameoutgravelly,crawlingitswayoutmythroat.
“I’mnotlaughing,”hecounteredsoftly,hiseyesneverleavingmine,deliveringthefinalblow.“Oh.Andnoprenup.”
“Ohhhh!”
Menbentbackward,slappingtheirforeheadsdramatically.IwasluckyIwasproppedagainstthetablebecauseeverymuscleinmybodyceasedtowork.
IwonderedifitwasanotherstopinhisdestinationtofulldominationoverBoston,marryingintotherichestfamilywithnoprenup.WasIjustapawninhisgame?Anotherjuicydealwaitingtobesealed?
“Sweetheart,Brennan’satop-notchmathematician.Crazygoodwithnumbers.Run,don’twalk,”onemanholleredfromthedepthsoftheroom.
Samsmirked,neitherconfirmingnordenyingit.
“Iknowyourolderbrother,littleFitzy.SayyesandI’llhavenochoicebuttocallhim,”anotheryoungmanshouted.
Smilingandrefusingtowithdrawmyhandandcowerlikeeveryoneexpectedmeto,Isaid,“Wouldn’tyoulikethat,SamuelBrennan?Thesonofawhore,bornwithoutadimetohisname,marriedtooneoftherichestwomeninthewesternworld.You’llbeeligibletohalfmyfortune.”
“Iknow,”hesaidcalmly.“Whichmeansyou’llthinktwicebeforeleavingme.”
Ouraudiencelaughedandhootedloudly.
“I’mnotgivingyouhalfmykingdom,”Ienunciated,myvoiceclearandunwavering.
“Idon’tgiveafuckaboutyourkingdom,sweetheart.Mineisbiggerinallthewaysthatmatter.Believeitornot,thenumberinyourbankaccountisnotaspowerfulasmyholdontheEastCoast.”
“Idon’tbelieveyou,”Ilied.
“Takethestakesorleavethisroom,MissFitzpatrick,butdoitnow.I’mrunningawell-oiledoperationhere,andeverymomentpeopledon’tspendtheirmoneyonthesetablescostsme.”
“Marryyou,”Imouthedthewordsratherthansaidthemaloud,shockstillgrippingme.Myfatherwasgoingtokillme.CillianandHunterweregoingtoburnwhateverwasleftofme.YetsomehowIbelievedSam’smotivewasn’tmoney.Hehadenoughofit.
Hewantedtotrapme.Andme?Iwantedtobetrapped.
“Fine,”Isaidshakily,mystomachturningahundredtimesover.
Samfinallyclaspedmyhandinhis,butinsteadofshakingit,heusedourentwinedfingerstojerkmetowardhim,pressingaverypublic,verypossessivekissonmymouth.
“Wehaveagame.They’regoingforit!”Ayoungmaninasagegreenvelvetsuitjumpedupfromhisseat.Therewaschaosintheroomforthenextfewminutes,andItriedtogulpdeepbreathsandtellmyselfitdidn’tmatter.Noneofitdid.Icoulddigmywayoutofthis.Maybe.
ThestakesforagamewereneverthishighinthehistoryofBadlands.Bookiesrolledinfromotherroomstotakebetsonthegame,holdingclipboardswithspreadsheets,takingnamesandnumbersandodds.IrecognizedBeckerandAngus,thesoldiersIhadtreatedlastyear,shufflingabout,whisperingbetweenthemastheyplacedtheirbetagainstme
Therewasahumantrafficjamoutsidethedoortothecardroom,andIcouldbarelybreathewhenIheardthebouncersphysicallypushingpeopleaway.
Webothtookourplacesinfrontofthedealer,whosegoldennametagsaidDaniel.Idrummedmyfingersagainstthegreenfeltofthetable.Samstaredatme.Irefusedtolookbackathim.
“Smartmove.Yourclub’sabouttobecomelegendaryafterthis.”Iflickedmyhairbehindmyshoulder.
“Ineverletagoodscandalgotowaste,”herepliedwryly.
“Areyoureallythatgoodatmath?”myvoicequivered.
“Better.”
Everyonesettled,andDanielstartedshufflingthecards,recitingtherulesofthegameloudandclear.Hemadeashowofit.Firstwithanoverhandshuffle,ariffleshuffle,thenapileshuffle.Bythetimehewasdone,thecardswerethoroughlymixed,evenIcouldn’tdenythat.
Danielputtheneatstackofcardsdown,glancingbetweenSamandme.
Samjerkedhischintowardme,decidingnowwasagoodtimetobecomeagentleman.
Irefusedtoremovemygazefromthecards,splittingthemintotwostacks.
WhywasIsohysterical?Wasn’titmylongtimewish?TomarrySamBrennan?
Oui,moncheri,butnotlikethis.Notasapartofanotherelaborategamebetweenyoutwo.
IwithdrewmyhandandindicatedforDanieltochoosefromtheright-handstack.Wewereeachdealttwocards.Danielalsodealthimselfahand.Oneexposed,onehidden.
Thefirstroundwasaquickwinforme,allowingmetobreatheagain.Isplutteredaroundanexhale,wonderingifitwasSam’swayofmakingmelowermyguard.ThesecondroundwenttoSam,afterIdoubleddownandlost,makingmyrivalflashadevioussmirk.Thethird—tome.Thefourth—toSam.
Theeeriefeelingeverythingwaspremeditatedtookrootinmystomach.PerhapsSamhadintentionallymadethisgameaclosecalltomakepeoplemoreinterested.Statistically,theneatnessofourwins,andlosses,seemedhighlyunlikely.Hewasengineeringanarrativewhereanythingcouldhappen,anditmademeevenmorenervousbecausethatmeantheknewhewouldwin.
Ineverlose.
Samplayedagainstcasinosandwonrepeatedly.Thechancesofhimlosingtwice,outoffourtimes,wereslimtononexistent.
Bythetimeweweredealtourfifthhands,Iwasasweatypileofmess.Myhairwasplasteredtomytemples,andeverythinginmeshook.Nomattertheresult,Iwasgoingtobedevastated.
Ididn’twanthismoney,butmarryinghimrightnowseemedasimpossibleaskissingthemoongoodnight.
“Don’tworry.I’llmakeitfastandeasyforyou,MissFitzpatrick.”SamshotmeanimpersonalsmileasDanielcutthecards.Thewholeroomhelditsbreath
Igotconfusedanddidn’tstandwithapairofnineswhenDaniel’sup-cardwasaseven,eventhoughCillianhadtaughtmetodoso.
Samsplitapairofeightsandaces.
Samwon
Threetotwo.
Fairandsquare.
Thewholeroomeruptedinscreams,arguments,andlaughterashandsexchangedthickstacksofmoney.Peoplehuddledoverthebettingbooks.OthersclappedSam’sbackandwhistled,shakinghishandwithasmugsmile.
“Thedealofyourlife,Brennan.Nextstop,worlddomination.”
“MakesureyougetyourhandsonthoseRoyalPipelinesshares,man.”
“Youdelicatefuckinggenius.”
“Bettertakeherforatestdrive,eh?”
Nauseawashedoverme,andIgrippedtheedgesofthetablewithforce.
Ilost.
Notonlytonightbutthelastdecade.
Wewerealwaysplayingagame,atleastthatwashowitfelt,andthiswasthepinnacleofaten-yearbattle.
Itdidn’tmatterthatIwantedit.ThatIwishedforit.ThatIlongedforit.
SamBrennanwonme,buthedidn’tearnme.
WhatkindofmarriagewouldIhavetoamanwhodidn’twanttohavechildrenandhatedwomen?
Samignoredthecongratulations,strollingtheshortdistancetomeetme,hisfaceunreadable.Everyonestoppedtoseewhathappenednext.Icouldn’tblamethem.Iwantedtoknow,too.Ididn’tmove.Didn’trunaway.TheleastIcoulddowashandlethesituationwithdignity.AFitzpatrickneverboweddown.
Samstoppedafootawayfromme.
“Welldone.Iknewyouwereatalentedmathematicianandblackjackplayer,butIstillunderestimatedyou.”Iofferedhimmyhandagain,myvoicequietandresolute.
Henarrowedhiseyesatme,likewewereenemies.Maybewewere.Ineverknewwherewestood.Hecuppedmythroat,anglingmyfaceuptolookhimintheeye.Whenhespoke,itwastotheroom,nottome,buthiswordswereloudandclear,fillingtheairwithpoison.
“Iwanteverysingleassholewhowitnessedthisgametogoandtelltheirfriends.Andtellyourfriendstotelltheirfriends.IwantthistohitCillian,Hunter,andGerald’searstonight.Iwantthisinthepapers.AislingFitzpatrickisnowmine.Iwonher,andsheisgoingtobemywife.Ifanyonehasaproblemwiththat,hewillhavetogothroughme,andIsincerelydon’trecommendit.It’saterriblewaytodie.”
Withthat,hecrashedhislipsdownonmine,sealingourdealwithananimalistickiss.Peoplecheeredinthebackground,butwepaidnoattentiontothem.Ipaidnoattentiontothem,completelyimmersedinthisthingbetweenus,myheartsoaringtothesky.Samhoistedmeupandcarriedmeoutofthecardroom,shoulderingpastdozensofmen,headingstraighttohisoffice.Mylegswrappedaroundhiswaist,mytonguedancinginsidehismouth.
Wereachedthepointofnoreturn.
Therewerenomoregamestobeplayed.
Weweretogether.
“Youwillkeepyourwordtome,”hegrowledintomymouth,kickingthedoortohisofficeopenandslammingitshutbehinduswithouttouchingthehandle,hisfingersdiggingintomybehind.
“No,”Iinsistedbreathlessly,pepperinghisneckwithkisses.“Notuntilyoutellmethatit’sreal.ThatI’mjustnotaconquest.ThatImeansomethingtoyou.”
“Youdon’tmeansomethingtome,”hecountered.“Youmeaneverythingtome.JesusChrist,IneedtogetinsideyoubeforeIfuckingdie.”Heletmedown,turnedtohisdesk,andinonegowipeditcleanofhislaptop,ledgers,andpaperwork.
Hegrabbedmywaistroughlyandturnedmearoundtofacethedesk,bendingmeoverashehoistedmydressup,tuggingmypantiestotheside.
“Belleiswaitingformeoutside,”Iwarned,pantinghard,sowetmythighswerestickingtogether.
“Bellecangofuckherself.You’reminenow,andI’mcelebratingourengagementinmyfavoriteplace—insideyou.”
Hethrustintomefrombehind,andtheunexpectednessofit,thesheersurprisemadealoudmoanslipbetweenmylips.Hesnakedonearmbetweenmylegsandstartedplayingwithmyclitasheenteredmemercilessly,pickinguppace,drivingmemadashehitmyG-spotagainandagain.
“Oh,Monster.”
“Mine.”Heleaneddown,brushingmyhairfrommyear,bitingthelobesoftly.
“Mine,mine,mine.Forevermine,”hechanted,movinghisfingersfrombetweenmythighs,uptomybreasts,kneadingthem.Hisfingerstravelednorthagain,andhepushedthemintomymouth,coatedwithmyarousal,tostopmefrommoaningloudly.
“There,there,littleNix.”Hisbreathtickledthebackofmyneckandmyear,sendinggoosebumpsdownmybody,makingmeclencharoundhimevenmore.“Youwillnowhavethisdickonadailybasis.Startingtonight,you’llbemovinginwithme.I’llhavenolipfromyou,Aisling.Iwon.Youlost.Understood?Nodifyoudo.”
Inoddedjerkily,mybodyquakingwithanimpendingclimaxthatthreatenedtotearthroughmybones.Fromthisangle,hewassodeepinsideme,Ifeltimpossiblyfull.Iswearthemanwasrearrangingmyguts.
Myfingersdugintothewoodofthetable,myteethsinkingintoSam’sfingersinmybidtostifleagroan.Theorgasmrackedthroughmelikeatornado,rippingeverythinginsidemeinitswake.Hemust’vesensedmyorgasmbecausehe,too,letgoofthesliverofself-controlhestillpossessedandbeganthrustingerratically,cominginsidemeinwarmspurts,grabbingthebaseofmyneckandpullingmetohismouthforakissfulloftongue.
Westayedinthispositionforafewmoments,himdeepinsideme,thelastofhiscumdrippingintome.Heplacedachastekissonthetopofmyhead.
“Betterthancigarettes,”hesaiddryly,hisfaceturningcoldandexpressionlessagain,puttinghismaskbackonnowthatweweredone.
Thistime,Ismiled,knowingitwasn’tpersonal.
“Aren’tyougladyouquit?”
“No.”Hepulledoutslowly,massagingmybuttintheprocess.“ButI’mgladyoutookthebaitandgotluredbackintoBadlands.AfewmoreweeksofbeingcelibateandthecemeteriesinBostonwouldbeovercrowded.Nowgosaygoodbyetoyourfriend.YouhaveexactlyfiveminutesbeforewegobackhomeandIfuckyoualloveragain.”Hesqueezedmyass,pushingmetowardthedoorplayfully.“Makeitquickandmakeitcount,Nix.”
Iwasmarryingabastard.
Buthewasmybastard.
“Iheardthenews.”Bellewaitedformebythebouncers,leaningontheballsofherfeet,justoutsidethecardrooms.Theywouldn’tletherin.Bythelooksshesentthem,Icouldtellnolovewaslostbetweenherandthetwoburlymen.“OnascaleofonetoLindsayLohancirca2010,howdrunkwereyouwhenyousaidyestothebet?”sheraged.
Ithrewmyselfbetweenherarms,eventhoughtheyweren’ttechnicallyopen,squeezingherinahug.
“Notdrunkatall,Belle.It’stherealdeal.Ididn’twanttotellyoubecauseIwasn’tsurewhereitwasgoing,but…we’rekindoftogethernow.”
“Kindof?Yathink?”Bellegavemeasarcasticlook,stillinshock,pullingawayfrommewhilepattingmyshouldertoshowmeshewasn’tmad.“Weallknowwhereit’sgoingnow,andletmetellyou,peoplecalledyourbrothers,whothentoldtheirwives,whotoldyourparents.Needlesstosay,noone’shappyyoukeptitsuchasecret.They’resuspectingyou’vebeenloversallalong.Theentiretenyearsyou’veknowneachother.”
Letthemthinkthat,Ithought.
Inaway,itwastrue.
SamandIwerealwayslovers.
Evenwhenwedidn’tspeakortoucheachotheratall.
Thatnight,IwenthomewithSam.ItwasonlywhenweenteredhisapartmentthatIrealizedthattheplacefeltcompletelyandirrevocablymine.Somewheredowntheline,hisplacehadbecomemyhome.Ithousedmyclothes,myshoes,mytoiletries,andthemanIlove.
Stillinadaze,Iwalkedaroundthelivingroom,brushingmyfingersovertheminimalfurniture,thebarewalls;Iknewtherewasagoodchanceourhousewasnevergoingtohaveanyartinit,nopaintings,nobelovedvintageknickknackstofilltheplacewithpersonalityandwarmth.Iwasoddlyokaywiththat.Withthelossofartinthenameoflove.
IwasfacingthewindowoverlookingBoston’scityscape,sparklinginthenighttimelikemassesoftinystars,whenIheardSam’svoicebehindme.
“Don’tturnaround.Staylikethat.”
Idid.
OurphoneswerebothblowingupwithcallsallthewayfromBadlands.
Atfirst,weshovedthemintomypurse,butwhenthatdidn’thelp,andthebuzzingandlitscreenskepttauntingus,weturnedthemoffcompletely.Iwasprettysuremybrothersandparentswerefullyintendingtoknockthisdoordownanyminutenow,onlytheycouldn’tbecausetheydidn’tknowwhereSamlived.
Ifoundthatlittlefactstrangelyliberating.
Theironyoflivingsomewheremyparentscouldn’tfindme,afterbeingundertheirthumbforsolong.
Hisfootstepspresseddownonthefloorunderneathus.Ifelthimstoprightbehindmyback.HetookmylefthandwhileIwasstillfacingthewindow,slidingaringontomyringfinger.Mybreathcaught,andmyheartstuttered,theunreliablemonsterthatitwas.
“Don’tlookyet,”hewhisperedintomyear.Inodded,waiting.
Hedroppedakisstothecrownofmyhead,andIfeltdizzywithpleasure.
“Sam,”Ibreathed.
“Yes?”heasked,catchingthezipperofmydress,slidingitdownseductively.
Iclearedmythroat.“Iwantchildren.”
Hestoppedunzippingme.Ifoundmyvoiceagain.Icouldn’tnottalktohimaboutit.
“Iknowyouarenotafan,butIwantthemverymuch.Isthisgoingtobeaproblemforus?”
Holdingmybreath,Iwaited.Afterafewseconds,heresumedtheworkofundressingme,slidingthezipperdownalltheway.Thedresspooledatmyfeetlikeashimmeringlakeofburgundybloodandglitter.
“No.”Hislipsskimmedthehollowofmyneck.“Iwillgiveyouchildren,ifyouquityourjob.Dosomethinglegal,Aisling.Icannotbeartheideaofsomethinghappeningtoyou.”
Iswallowedhard,closingmyeyes.
Mypatientsweresodeartome.
Theirwell-being,supportingthemmeanteverything.
Buthewasright.Ifsomeonecaughtme,I’dbelockedupforlife.
Becomingamotheranddoingsomethingsodangeroussimplydidn’tgotogether.Especiallysincemyfuturechildren’sfatherhadalessthanrespectablejob,too.Someonewouldhavetobetheiranchor.Thereliableparentwhogoesouttoworkandcomesbackeveryday,nomatterwhat.
Ifeltmyeyelidsdrooping.
“I’lltellDr.Doyletomorrow.”
“Goodgirl.”Hekissedmycheek,unfasteningmybra.“Nowtakealookatyourring.”
Iturnedaroundtofacehim,wearingnothingbutmyunderwearandthering.Iblinkedatit.Agaspofshockandpleasureescapedme.IlookeduptoSamwitheyesfulloftears.
“TroygaveSparrowaringwithabloodreddiamond.Itremindedhimofherhair.Iwantedtodothesame,butwhenIthinkofyou,Idon’tthinkaboutyourhair.Ithinkaboutthoseeyes.Theytauntme.Theabsolutebluenessofthem.”
Hetookmyhandandkissedthering,ahugehaloringofdiamondssurroundingthecenterstone—anemerald-cutoctagon-shapedsapphire.Ikissedit,too,laughingandcryingatthesametime.
“Youweregoingtowinallalong,weren’tyou?”Iwhispered,referringtoourblackjackgame.“Youknewyouwere.”
Hecuppedmycheeks,pullingmetohim.
“Iwasnevergoingtoloseyou,Ash.Thatwasn’tinthecards,oronthetable,orpartoftheagenda.Youwerealwaysgoingtobemine.Youhadtohaveknownthat.”
“Iamgoingtokillyou,Brennan.”CillianFitzpatrickstormedintomyofficeatBadlandsthefollowingday,withHuntertrailingbehindhim.“Youhavesomenervecorneringmysisterlikethat.Yourbetwithherisoff.We’llpaythemoney.”
Isatbackinmyseat,smirkingasItappedmyfingersovermymouth.IthadbeenthreehourssinceIdroppedAislingoffattheclinictohandinherresignation,andalreadyImissedherlikecrazy.Theideaofgivingupontheengagementaftershe’dagreedtoitseemedasfarfromrealityaslettingCillianandHuntershoveaten-footspikydildointomyasswhileIwatchrerunsofHannahMontana.
“Idon’twantthemoney,”Idrawled.
“Welltoobad…”Cillianstoppedinfrontofmydesk,hisfistsclenched“…becausebuyingmysisterisnotanoption.”
“Ididn’tbuyher,Iwonher.Youweretheonewhoboughtyourwife,whilewe’reonthesubject,andyou…”IturnedtoHunterbeforeheopenedhismouth“…youdon’tevenhaveasayinthis.You’rehavingsexwithmysister.Countyourblessingthatyouarestillalive.Istillhavenoideawhatsheseesinyou.”
Hunterliftedhishandsupinsurrender.“Samehere,bro.Ihavenoideawhysheiswithme.IjustknowI’mnotlettinghergo.”
“Howdidyougetinhereanyway?”Ifrowned.Theentrancewasmannedbytwobodyguards.
Cilliantookaseatinfrontofme,andHunteroccupiedthechairbesidehimastheybothinvitedthemselvestostay.
CillianandHunterhadnoideawhatwentonbetweenme,theirfather,AislingandJane,andIintendedtokeepitthatway.NotbecauseIgaveafuckaboutwhattheythoughtbutbecauseIknewitwouldhurtAislingifherbrothersdoubtedmydevotiontoher.AndshewouldbeupsetwhenHunterandCillianpassedtheinformationalongtoPersephone,Sailor,andDevon,makingthefactIstabbedherinthebackawell-knownmatter.
“Oh,IknowJohnnyandGraysonfromwayback.”Hunterwavedhishandarounddismissively,referringtothebouncersstandingatthefrontdoor.“Itoldthemwecameintocongratulateyouonyourengagement.”
“Whenreallywecameheretotellyouthatyouwillnotblackmailoursister.”Cillianlitupacigar.Thestenchoftheburningrolledtobaccodriftedaroundtheroom,andItriedtorememberwhatIlikedaboutsmoking.Cigarssmelledlikefeetonfire,andcigarettesweretheircheaperequivalent.
Itwaspeculiar.Howbothbadandgoodhabitswerebornfromboredom.Howtheyturnedintoanobsession,anaddiction,beforeyouknewit.Andhowtakingbackcontrolfromthembecameahabitinitself.
“Yoursisterisabiggirl.”Ilacedmyfingerstogetheronmydesk,tryingtokeepthedisdainfrommyvoice.“Shecametomeofherownfreewill.Asyourecall,youpaidmenottogetanywherenearher,whichshouldtellyousomethingaboutherreactiontome.”
“Andasyourecall,youcrappedalloveryourpromisenottotouchher,ifyouaregettingmarriednow,”Cillianretorted.
Cillianwasn’twrong,buthecouldn’tprovehissuspicioneither,soIjustflashedhimabarelytolerantsmile.
“Doyouhaveproof?”
“No,but—”
“ThenIsuggestyoukeepyouropinionwhereitbelongs,inRedditconspiracytheorythreads.AislingandIareengagedtobemarried.Themarriagewilltakeplacesoonerratherthanlater.I’vealreadyspokentoyourfatheraboutdeductingtheannualbonusfornottouchingherasIintendtotouchherveryoften—andveryinappropriately.IunderstandthattheFitzpatrickfamilyenjoysseeingAshastheprized,devoteddaughterwhodotesonJaneandfulfillsherfather’severywhim,butthisstopsnow.”
“Whichbringsustoournexttopic.”Cilliannarrowedhiseyesatme.“Seemstomeliketheentiredivorceordealbetweenmyparents,alongwiththestolencufflinksandpoisoncasedisappearedintothinair.Asthepersoninchargeofthesituation,wouldyoucaretoexplainit?”Heheldhiscigarbetweenhisteeth,half-smiling.
TheproblemwithCillianwasthat,unlikemostofmyrichclients,hewassmartandobservant.Thosethingsweredefinitelyathorninmyside.
“Gladly.”Ismackedmylipstogether.“Wefoundthepersonresponsibleforallthosethings.Forobviousreasons,yourfatherswipeditundertherug.Didn’twantyourmothertobecomeevenmoreupsetwithhimwhenanotherlovercametolight.HowisJanedoing,bytheway?”
“Don’tpretendlikeyoucare,”Cillianyawned.Idoubtedhecared,too.
“Fairenough.”Ichuckled.Hunter,theonlyoneoutofusthreewhoactuallygaveafuck,confirmedthatshewasstillattendingtherapy.Goodforher.SheneededallthehelpshecouldgetbecauseIwasneverlettingheremotionallymanipulateAislingagain.
“Youquitsmoking,huh?”Hunter’sgazeflickedtomydesk,whichnowlackedtheusualmountainofashtrays,cigarettepacks,andZippos.“Fromoneaddicttoanother,letmetellyou,I’mreallyproudofyou.”
“Thatwarmsmyheart,”Isaid.
“Really?”Hunter’seyeslitup.
“No,”Ideadpanned,lookingbetweenthem.“Didyougeteverythingyoucameherefor?Ihaveabusyday.It’scalledwork…”Isnappedmyfingers,makingashowofremindingthem“…youknowthatthingpeopledotomakemoneywhentheyarenotbornintoroyalty.”
“Youareabouttomarryintoroyalty,”Hunterjested,wigglinghisbrows.
“Whichremindsme,”Cillianputhiscigarout,standingupandbuttoninghisblazer,“thereisnowayIamlettingyoumarrymysisterwithoutaprenup.”
“I’llsignthegoddamnprenup,”Ibitout,“butshecan’tknowthat.”
“Shecan’tknowthat?”Hunterfrowned.“Whynot?”
“It’snotthemoneyIcareabout,it’skeepingyoursister,”Igrunted,annoyedthatIhadtospellitoutforhim,likehedidn’tknowwhatitmeanttobepussy-whipped.
“Youreallydoloveher,don’tyou?”Huntergrinnedsmugly.
“Giveusasmart-assanswerandIwillkillyou,”Cillianwarned.
Iwasabouttoanswerwhensomeonekickedthedoordown,sendingitflyingoffitshingesandskatingalongthefloor.Ireachedformyguninmydesk’sdrawer,butthetwomeninthebalaclavaswerefaster.
“Noneedtokillhim,”onesaidinathickRussianaccent,pointinghisgunatme.“We’lldoitforyou.”
Heshottwobulletsintomychest.
Everythingwentblack.
Islippedinandoutofconsciousnessastheyrushedmetothehospital.Icouldn’tfeelanypaininmychestormyshoulder,whichcouldn’thavebeenagoodsign.Everythingwasblurry.ThewhitepunishingflorescentlightforcedmetoclosemyeyesassoonasIopenedthem.
Inthebackground,IheardCillianandHunter’svoices,andDevon’s.
“JohnnyandGraysonaredead,”Huntersaid,unawarethatIwashalf-conscious.“Weneedtotakecareofthat.”
“Troy’sonit,”Cillianquipped.“He’llcleanupthescene.Hehaspeopleworkingonitrightnow.They’reboardingupthecardroomsincasethepolicegettippedoff.”
Inthatmoment,Iwasgladmyfriendsweren’ttotaldumbasses.Imust’vegroanedbecauseCillian’sheadsnappedinmydirection.Thedoctorandnursebehindmeshooedmyentourageaway.Wemusthavebeenheadingintotheoperatingroom.
“CallAsh,”Itriedtosay,buteventhoughIcouldmovemymouth,itdidn’tproduceanysound.
“What?”Hunterreachedovertosqueezemyhand.Forfuck’ssake,whatwashegoingtodonext?CutthecordwhenIdeliveredhisfuckingbaby?
“CallAsh!”Iroared,hopingmyhearingwasimpairedduetothegunshotsandthatIdidn’tlosemyfuckingvocalchords.
CillianandHunterstoppeddeadintheirtracksbehindthemedicalstaffasmygurneyburstthroughthedoubledoors.
Ihadtostayalive.
Ihadto.
Notforme.
Forher
Iclosedmyeyesagain.
Forthefirsttimeinmylife,Iwaslosingafight.

“Iquit.”
Dr.DoyleandIweresittinginfrontofeachother,fillingoutcharts.
IblurtedthewordsbeforeIchickenedout,makingtheoldermanstraighteninhisseat.Hewatchedmethroughthethickrimofhisreadingglasses.
“I’mveryhappytohearthat,”hesaidfinally,andalltheairrushedoutfrommylungsinadesperatesigh.EventhoughIknewDr.Doylehadbeenwantingmetoexploremorelegalandaccomplishingmeansofmedicine,Ialsoknewhehadhishandsfullhereattheclinic,andheneededhelp.
“Ifeelterrible.”Icoveredmyfacewithbothhands,shakingmyhead.
“Don’t.”Iheardthesmileinhisvoice.“Iwantmoreforyouthanthis.Thattimeyoucametomyoffice,whenyoufoundoutwhatitwasIdid,IknewhowpassionateyouwereaboutthisjobwhenyoutoldmeaboutMs.Blanchet,butIneverhopedforyoutocomeworkherefull-time.”
“ButwhataboutMrs.Martinez—”
“She’llsurvive,”hehurriedtosay.Then,realizinghispoorchoiceofwords,hegaveasmallchuckleandadded,“I’lltakeover.Ihavemyownideasabouthertreatment.”
Iswallowed.Hewasagreatdoctor.Iwasn’tworriedabouthisabilities,Iwasworriedabouthisworkload.
“Whatareyougoingtodo?”IaskedDr.Doyle,peekingathimthroughmyfingersfannedacrossmyface.Theengagementringstillfeltheavyonmyfinger.StrangeandforeignandyetlikeacloakofsecurityI’dneverwornbefore.
Dr.Doyle’seyeshaltedonthehugesapphirering,butotherthanhissmiletuggingwider,hedidn’tmentionit.
Itwasobviousheputtwoandtwotogether.
Engagementmeantmarriage,andmarriageoftentimesmeantbabies,andiftherewasonethingmychildrendeserved,itwasatleastoneparentwhowouldn’tbeatriskofbeingthrownintoprison.
“I’mgoingtocutbackontheworkeventually,too,startingbyturningdownnewpatients.”Hedroppedhispenonthecharthewasfillingout.“Youknow,Ithoughtaboutthislongandhardrecently.Whywedothis…”hemotionedaroundtheroom“…andI’vecometotheconclusionthatwearetryingtorepent.We’vebothlostpeoplewelovedverydearlyinthemosthorriblypainfulways,butitisnotourfault.Itistimetoletgooftheguilt,mydear.Youcannotchangehistory.Butyoucanwriteyournextchapters.Youaredoingtherightthingbyquitting,Aisling.Youhaveabeautifullifeaheadofyou.Ah,tobeyourageagain,”hesaidwistfully,staringataninvisiblepointbehindmyshoulder,lookingfarawayallofasudden.“Theworldisspreadbeforeyouinallitsglory.Makethemostofit.You’veworkedhardhere,andyouweren’tpaidapenny.You’vehelpedothers.Nowit’stimetofocusonyourself,child.”
Ilookeddownandnoticedmyphonewasbeepingwithanincomingtext.Islidthescreenwithmythumb.
Cillian:Clover.
Hunter:Cloverrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Theycouldwait.TheysuremademewaitwhenIneededthem.
“DoyouthinkIcanhandlearesidency?”Ignawedonmyinnercheek.
I’dbeensofarremovedfrommainstreammedicalinstitutions,findingmywaybackintothemfeltalmostimpossible.
“Dear,”Dr.Doylechuckled,“thequestionis,cantheyhandleyou?Youareaforcetobereckonedwith.Compassionate,pragmatic,andhardworking.Alethalcombinationforadoctor.”
Hegotup,roundingthedeskbetweenus,andofferedmehishand.Itookit,risingtomyfeet.Dr.Doyleengulfedmeinahug.Thedeep,bone-crushingkindthatrearrangedyourentirebeinginjusttherightway.
WhenIsteppedoutoftheclinicforthelasttimeinmylife,Ifoundmyselflookingbehindatthebuilding’sdoorwithasoftsmilebutwithoutlonging.
DoingwhatIdidnevertrulyfulfilledme.
Itdulledmypain.
Iwasreadyforthenextchapterinmylife.
Tostitchpeoplebacktogether,atoningforallthelivesmyfuturehusbandwouldnodoubtripapart.
Iforgiveyou,moncheri.Youwerejustakid.Besides,maybe,justmaybeIputyouinanimpossiblesituation,too,IheardMs.B’svoiceinmyheadandknew,withadecentamountofbothdisappointmentandrelief,thatIwasn’tgoingtohearhervoiceveryoftenfromnowon.Herjobwastrulydonenow.
Itookoutmyphone,stridingabsentmindedlytothePrius.
IhadalotofmissedcallsfromCillian,Hunter,andDevon.Gosh,theyreallycouldn’thandlehowyesterdaywentdownwithSamandme.Theyneededtogetoverthemselves.
Thetexts,however,gavemepause.
Cillian:Answer.
Hunter:Pleasejustpickupthephone.Wearenottryingtoyellatyoufortheengagement.
Cillian:Samisinthehospital.Brigham.He’sbeenshottwice.He’sincriticalcondition.
Hunter:Youhavetocomeseehim.Heisaskingforyou.
Devon:Aisling,darling,yourbrothersarequitedisoriented,toomuchtopayattentiontothefinerdetails.Butasasolicitor,onemustwonder,ifyouarecurrentlyatwork,andyourworkplaceisthehospitalwe’rein,howcomewecan’tseemtoreachyou?
Ijumpedintothecar,flooringitallthewaytothehospital,myheartinmythroat.
Myworstfearhadmaterialized.
Sam’ssinsfinallycaughtupwithhim.

IblastedthroughtheERdoors,runningtowardthewaitingarea,whereHunter,Cillian,Devon,andTroywerestandingwithafrantic-lookingSparrow.
Thelatterpacedfromsidetoside,seemingtobedeepinconversationonthephonewithherdaughter,urginghernottocome.
“No,honey,someoneneedstotakecareofthekids.Pleasedon’tleavethemwithPersy.Shehasherhandsfullasitis.I’llkeepyouabreast.”
ItwasthefirsttimeI’dseenmyfuturein-lawssinceSamproposed,anditwasinlessthanpositivecircumstances.IthrewmyselfatHunter,grabbingontothelapelsofhispeacoat.
“Whereishe?”
“Hey,”Huntersaidgravely,hisvoicelowerandmoreconcernedthanI’deverheardbefore.Cillianwouldnotlookatme.DidtheyknowsomethingIdidn’t?Thethoughtmademewanttokneelrightthereandthrowuponthefloor.“He’sinsurgeryrightnow.Iguessyoucan’tgoinside,butsurelyyoucanaskthestaffhowheisdoing?Youworkhereandeverything.Youmustknowsomeofthedoctors.”
Stillinadaze,Imumbledsomethingaboutitbeingahugehospitalandnotwantingtotakeadvantageofmyposition,althoughIcouldtellHunterlookedatmefunny.Thewallswereclosinginonme.Myfamilywasbecomingsuspicious.WhyhadittakenmesolongtogethereifIworkedinthepremises?
BecauseIneveractuallyworkedhere.Ijustcouldn’ttellyouwhatitwasthatIdid.
ThegreatironyofgettingcaughtinthelieonthedayIquitmyjobwithDr.Doyledidn’tescapeme,butmymindwasoccupiedwithallthingsSam.IstaredlonginglyatthedoorHuntergesturedtoward.BehinditdoctorswerefightingforSam’slife.
“Tellmewhathappenedagain,”Troyinsisted,badgeringCillianandHunter,andtheyrecitedtheentirescene.HowtheycametotalktoSamaboutmyengagementtohim(atthispointtheystaredatmepointedly),howtheydiscusseditatlength.Howtheydidn’thearanythingwhentheRussiansputbulletsinJohnnyandGrayson’sheadsbecausetheyusedasilencer.HowtheBratvaburstthroughSam’sofficedoor,aimingtheirweaponathim.
“He’sastrongfucker.”Huntersniffled.“Onourwayherehewashalf-conscious.Heevenaskedustocallyou,Aisling.”
Alleyesliftedandrestedonme,burningaholethroughmyface.Wrappingmyarmsaroundmyself,Iignoredthem,waltzingovertoanearbywindowandstaringoutofit.
Theworldkeptonspinning,anditfeltlikelosingMs.Balloveragain,onlymuchworse.Carshonked,clutteredtogetherinneatlinesontheroad.Cloudssailed.Womencooedateachother’sstrollersonthestreets.
Suddenly,Ifeltbloatedandswollenwithresentment.
AtmyparentsfordeprivingmefromhavingSamuntilitwastoolate.Atmyselfforlisteningtothem,forwaitingaround,fordenyingmyselfofwhatIwanted.AndatSam,whoruthlesslydevouredBoston—tothepointwhereBostonhadnochoicebuttodevourhimrightback.
“Hunter,”Icalledout,stillstaringoutthewindow,myeyesgluedtothestreet.Heapproachedme,stoppingrightnexttome.
“CallMother.Iwantherhere.Foronceinthislifetime,Iwanthertocomfortme.”
“Areyousure?”Hefrowned.“Idon’twantthistohavetheoppositeeffect.Whatifsheendsupnaggingyouaboutherpsoriasisortriestodragyoutoashoppingspreeatthemall?”
“Shewon’t,”Isaidwithconviction.
Thewomenwiththestrollersonthestreethuggedeachothergoodbyeandwenttheirseparateways.IwasfilledwithnauseawhenIrealizeditwaspossibleIwouldneverhavebabieswithSam.Thatthiscouldbeitforus.“Iwon’tlether.”
Hunternoddedcurtly,steppingasidetocallmymother.
Then,alone,withmyfacetiltedintheoppositedirectionofeveryone,Iallowedthetearstofall.Onebyone,theysliddownmycheeks,hotandsalty.
IneededtoletthemgoorelseI’ddrown.
Anhourlater,mymotherwalkedintothewaitingroom.Therewasstillnowordfromthedoctorsinsidetheoperatingroom.Severaltimes,Sparrow,Troy,andCilliantriedtonudgemetocheckinwiththereception,pullsomestringsasadoctoratthishospital.InoticedDevonandHunterweresurprisinglyquietandsolemn.Theyknew.
Motherflungherarmsovermyshoulders,buryingherfaceinmyneck.
“Oh,Aisling,howterrible.PoorSam.Ihopehe’llbeokay.Although,Isuppose,hegotwhatwascomingforhim,doingwhathedoesandall.”
Mybloodfrozeinmyveins.Ipeeledherawayfrommybody.Nooneelsehadheardwhatshesaid,butitdidn’tmatter.Iwasdonebeingunderstandingofher,ofhercondition.Herloosetongueandloosermoralshadconsequences,anditwastimesheknewit.Itookastepback.
“I’mengagedtohim,”Iannouncedrobotically.
Hermouthfellopen.Mybrothersmusthavekeptitasecretfromher.Nodoubtthinkingtheengagementmightbeshort-lived.Well,itwasn’t.Therewasonlyonewayoutofthisengagementrightnow,andthatwasifSamdied.
“Aisling,youcan’t…”Shegrabbedhergoldnecklace,rearrangingitoverhernecknervously.ShewascladinablackvelvetsuitandavintageChanelbag,andIrealized,afewmomentstoolate,thatitwasn’tonlyherwordsthatbotheredmebutalsothefactshetookhertimegettingreadytocometothehospitalwhenIcalledforher.
Sheloweredhervoice,grabbingontomywristandtuggingmetothecorneroftheroomtomakesurenoonecouldhearus.“Honey,heisnotforyou.”
Iyankedmyarmaway,scowlingather.“Youdon’tknowwhat’sgoodforme.Allyouwantisformetostayinthehouseandcatertoyou.”
“Honey!Thatisridiculous.Ifanything,I—”
“Don’tfinishthatsentence,”Iwarned,liftingafinger.“IcalledyouheretodaybecauseIwantedyoursupport,nottohearyounagging.Thisishowit’sgoingtobefromnowon,Mother.You’llbegivingsupport,notjustgettingit.Youwillnotpassjudgmentonme.Youwillbeamother.Nolongermyresponsibility.AmIclear?”
Shestaredatme,blinking,andmyheartclenchedwhenIrealizedwewerelikeafilteredmirror.Ilookedjustlikeher.Samedaintybuild,delicatebones,andcoiffedhair.Samelipsandnoseandnaturallycurledeyelashes.
ButIwasdifferent.Strong.Resilient.
Shetouchedherfingerstohercheek,sighing.
“You’reright.Ididabuseyourkindheart,Aisling.Ididn’twanttobelieveit,butofcourseIdid.Youweresogood,andIwassoweak.Iwasn’tusedtopeoplebeinggoodundermyroof.YourfatherandCillianarecoldasice.Hunterhasthebestintentions,butIneverquitecouldwormmywayintohisheart.Youweremyrock.Myeverything.Andlosingyou…Icouldn’timaginesuchascenario.I’msorry.I’msosorry.I—”shestopped,bowingherheadashershouldersbegantorocktotherhythmofhersobs.“IwastheonewhosuggestedyourfathershouldpaySamextranottogetnearyou.”
Aniciclepiercedthroughmyheart,andItookadeep,suddenbreath,reachingforanearbywalltotrytorightmyself.
Mymothercontinued,hereyescarefullystaringatthefloor.
“Isawthewayyoulookedathimthefirsttimeyousawhim.Youmustbelievethiswasn’talwaysaboutme,Aisling.Iwasthinkingaboutyou,too.Hewastooold,toodangerous,andtoorougharoundtheedgesforagentle-bredgirllikeyou.Butyes,inthespiritofhonesty,Iknewamanlikethatcouldscoopyouwiththesamefrighteningeaseyou’dtakeShellyoutfromhercagewhenyougaveherbaths.Youweregoingtoleavemeallalonewithyourfatherinthisbigmansion,andIwasn’treadyforthat.Witheachyearthatpassed,Itriedmusteringthecouragetotellyou.Tocomeclean.Selfishly,Icouldn’t.”
Iwasfullyawarethatsomewhereinmyperiphery,ourfriendsandfamilywerewatchingus,soIrefrainedfromcausingascene.Asitwas,HunterandCillianlookedonhighalert,readytopounceonMotherandtakeherawayfromme,knowingshehadatalentforstealingthelimelight,nomatterthesituation.
Despitetheinitialshockanddeepsenseofbetrayal,Dr.Doylewasright.Therewasnothingtobedoneaboutourpasts.Theonlywaywasforward.Icouldletwhatmymotherdiddefineourrelationshiporreinventit.
Andstandingthere,whileSamwasintheoperatingroom,hanginginthebalancebetweenlifeanddeath,everythingwascrystalcleartome.
Ifyoulovedsomehow,youhadtogivethemasecondchance.
Notforthem.
Foryou
Itookasteptowardher,tiltingmyheadupregally.
“Iforgiveyou,Jane,notbecauseyoudeserveit,butbecauseIdon’tdeservetolivetherestofmylifemotherlessbecauseofyourmistakes.Youaregoingtomakeituptome,though.Bigtime.Youcanstartbybringingallofuscoffeesandpastries.TheBrennanshaven’teatenallday,andI’mfamished.”
Shenodded,wipingherfacequickly,sniffling.
“Willdo.Rightaway.Oh,Aisling,thankyousomuch.”Shegrabbedmyhandsandsqueezedthem.“Iwillnotletyoudown,love.Youwillsee.”
Sherantowardtheelevatorsonherhighheels,ignoringthedisturbedglaresofonlookers.
Iwaschoosingmenow.
Me…andthemanIloved.
IthadbeensixhourssinceI’darrivedatthehospital,andtherewasstillnowordfromtheoperatingroom.Iknewnonewswasn’tnecessarilybadnews.Itmeanttheywerestillworkinghardtosavehislife.Ialsoknewthatitdidn’tmatter.
Iwasdangerouslyclosetoamassiveheartattack.
Nursesanddoctorsrushedinandoutoftheroom,wearingbloodieduniformsandgravefrowns.Ishamelesslypouncedonthem,demandinganswers,buttheyshookmeoffeverytime.
Thewaitingroomthickenedwithpeople.Atfirst,Ifailedtonoticeit,toowrappedupinrunningallpossiblescenariosandoutcomestoSam’sconditioninmyhead,butnow,liftingmygazefrommylap,Isawit.
Troy,Sparrow,Cillian,Hunter,Devon,myparents,andSailorwereherenow,togetherbutalone,eachofusshakentothecore.
ThedistressforSam’swell-beingwasthickintheair,hanginglikefogaboveourheads.
Troywasonthephone,barkingorders,demandingaction,nodoubttryingtofindmoreinformationabouttheattack,planninghowtostrikebackattheBratva.Sparrowlookedsofrail,IwasafraidifIreachedoutandtouchedhershewouldbreak.
Imovedovertoher.“It’llbeokay,”Iwhispered,tryingtoconvincemyselfthesameintheprocess.
HunterhadtoldmethebulletspiercedSam’sshoulderandchest.ItwashardtoestimatethedamagewhenIhadnoconcreteinformation.
Finally—finally—amiddle-ageddoctorinstainedscrubswithsweatytemplescameoutoftheoperatingroom.Iwasthefirsttodartinhisdirection,withSparrowfollowingcloselybehindme.
“Hello,I’mDr.McKinnley.Areyouthewife?”Heturnedtome.
“Iwillbesoon.”IjerkedSparrowclosetome.“Thisishismother.Pleasetellushowheisdoing.”
Heranhisgazeovermeskeptically.Hewasn’tsupposedtohandoutinformationtothosewhoweren’tSam’skin.
“Aislingisadoctorhere,too.AnOB-GYN,”Sparrowexplained,puttingaprotectivehandovermyshoulder.“Youcantellher.”
ThedoctorshotmeanotherlookandturnedhisfocusbacktoSparrow.
“Itwasaclosecall.Heisstillnotoutofthewoodsyet.Themainissueisn’ttheshoulderwound.Weremovedthebullet,andalthoughit’sstillearlytotell,itismybeliefthatthebulletdidnottearthroughmorethanmuscletissueanddidnottouchanyofthenerves.Ourmainconcernwasthechestwound.Ithittooclosetohome,toputitbluntly.Incloseproximitytotheheart.Ittookusthreehourstoremovethebulletalone.Helostalotofblood.Thenexttwenty-fourhourswillbecritical.We’removinghimtotherecoveryroomaswespeak.Heneedsagoodrest.Icannotstressthatenough.Forthatreason,wewouldpreferifheseesonevisitoratatime.”
SparrowandIexchangedglances.Ididn’tdarehope.Shewashismom,afterall.Shedeservedtoseehimfirst.Myfuturemother-in-lawsqueezedmyhandinhers.
“OvertwodecadesagoItoldSamthatonedayawomanwouldwalkintohislifeandprovetohimthathedoesn’thateallwomen.Heputupagoodfight,I’llgivehimthat,butIthinkyoufinallybrokehim.It’syouhe’llwanttoseewhenheopenshiseyes.Infact,IamtoldbyTroythathespecificallyaskedforyouwhenhewasrushedhere.Youshouldgo.”
“Areyousure?”Ibitmylowerlip.
Shesmiled,painmarringherexpression.“Absolutelypositive,dear.”
IfollowedDr.McKinnleyalongthenarrowlinoleumhallwaylikeapunishedkid,notsurewhatwaswaitingformeattheendofthejourney.Whenthesurgeonpushedthedooropen,hesaid,“Remember,heisfrailrightnow,evenifhedoesn’tlookit.”
Inodded,closingthedooraftermeandstaringatSamfromasafedistant.Iwasadoctor.I’dseenbloodandgoreinmylife.ButtherewassomethingaboutSam’spainthatwastoointimateandrealtome.Helaytherewithhiseyesclosed,thisbeastofaman,soimposing,soimperial,andyetsoquietandboyishrightnow.
“Oh,Sam.”Icuppedmymouth,rushingtothefootofthebed,sinkingdowntothefloorandburyingmyfacenexttohisarm.“Whathavetheydonetoyou?Pleasemakeitthroughthis.Please.”
Tearscoatedeveryinchofmyface.Imoanedloudly,howling,makingnoisesIhadnoideaIwascapableof.Hewasfinallymine,andIwaslosinghim.
ItwasthesortofcrueltyIcouldn’tfathom.
“ThereissomuchIhavetotellyou.Somuchnews.Youcan’tdieonmenow.It’sahighlyinconvenienttime,Sam.Whatkindofgentlemanareyou?”Ihuffed
IthoughtIfelthimmoveslightlynexttome,buthedidn’tsayanything,didn’tevengroan,soobviouslyIwasjustimaginingit.
“Iquitmyjob.I’llbeonthelookoutforresidencies.Ineedyoutohelpmesortthroughthem.Andwhataboutkids?Iwantalotofthem,andweneedtostartpracticing.Thenthere’stheCillianandHuntermatter.Whowillannoythem,ifyoudie?”
Anothersmallmovement.Ijerkedmyheadupright,studyingSam’sfaceclosely.Hiseyeswerestillshut,hisbreathinglabored.IstaredathimasIopenedmymouth,cautiouslyspeakingagain.
“Ofcourse,ifyoudieonmenow,atsomepointinthefuture—veryfarinthefuture—I’llbeabletogetoveryouandmoveon.Butfornow,Ijustwantyouto—”
Sam’shandmovedslightly.Hegrabbedmywristandtuggedmetohim,hiseyessnappingopen.Hegroanedinpainatthesuddenmovementandflashedmeacaninescowl.
“Nooneisgoingtogetoverfuckinganyone,Fitzpatrick.Nowshutupandletmerest.”
Surprised,Istaredathimwithopendelight.Myployhadworked.Ipouted,leaningbackwardandgivinghimsomespace.Hisholdonmywristtightened,buthewasstillsoveryweak.
“Letmerephrase…letmerestwhereIcanseeyou,feelyou,andsmellyou.”
“Youasshole,”Ihissedundermybreath.“Ithoughtyouweregoingtodie.”
“Yeah,IheardabouttheGrandPrixdicktouronceI’minacoffin.It’llhavetowaitanotherfewdecadesorso.Sorry.”
“Iwasjustteasingtoseeifyouwereconscious.IthoughtIfeltyoumove,”Iexplained,watchingashiseyesshutagain,histhroatbobbingwithahardswallow.
“Iknow,sweetheart.”Histoneturnedsoft,scratchy.
“CanIdoanythingforyou?”Iasked.
“Canyouclimbontopofmeandrideme?”
“No.”
“Thenyoucan’tdoanythingforme,Nix.”
“Everyoneiswaitingoutside.Theyareworriedsick.”Irubbedhisuninjuredarm.“Ishouldgooutandtellthemyou’reokay.”
Henoddedthengruntedagain,realizinghismistake.Everythingmust’vehurt,andImadeamentalnotetoaskthenursestouphismorphinedose.
“ButI’mnotgoingtogooutthereuntilyoupromisemesomething,”Iwarned.
Hiseyeswerestillclosedwhenheasked,“Yes?”
“Youaskedmetoquitmyjob,andIdid,eventhoughIdidsowithaheavyheart,knowingIwon’tbeabletohelpsomanypeoplewhoareinpain.NowI’maskingyoutobowoutofthebattlewiththeBratva,Sam.Nomorebloodshed.Nomore.Idon’tdeservetobecomeawidowbecauseofyourpride.GiveupBrookline.Turnyourbackonthissideofthecity.Troynevertookitoverforareason.Promiseme.”
“Itisnotinmynaturetolose.”
“Yetsometimes—notoften—youwill.YouhavetoloseBrooklineoryou’llbelosingme.Thisisanultimatum,Sam.Iwillnotbemadeawidowattwenty-eight.”
Heopenedhiseyes,lookingatme,surprised.
Hisvoicedroppedlow.“Areyouthreateningme?”
“Yes,”Isaidsimply.
Ihadtodothis.Forhim.Formyself.Forhisfamilyandourfuturechildren.IfhecaredmoreaboutapieceofBostonthanhedidaboutme,marryinghimwasgoingtobeamistake.Ifeltoddlyreassuredbythatsimplelogic.Weheldeachother’sgaze,silentforamoment.Hisjawtickedwithannoyance.
“Icanmakethiswork,”hesaid.“I’lltalktoVasily.”
“GiveupBrookline.”
“I’llgetmoresecurity.”
Ishookmyhead,standingupfromthefloor,wipingmycheekscleanoftears.
“I’msorry,Sam,butit’snotenough.I’mnotputtingmyheartinthehandsofamanwhowon’ttakecareofit.”
“Goddammit,woman.”Heturnedhisheadsideways,closinghiseyes,swallowinghard.“Fine.Fine.”
Iknewhowdifficultitwasforhimtosaythis,tomakethissacrifice.Ileaneddownandkissedhischeeksoftly.
“Thankyou.I’llgotelltheothersyouareawake.”
Steppingbackwardandgettingreadytoleave,Iturnedaroundandheardhisvoice,sharpandcuttinglikeglass.
“That’swhatitfeelslike,doesn’tit?”hewondered,halfinawe.“Love.Ican’tbelieveIcaughtfeelingslikesomefuckingamateur.Somanyofthem,too.Thisisdeplorable.”
Igrinned,glancingathimfrombehindmyshoulder.Heshookhishead,scowlingatthewall.
“Saythatagain,”Isaid.
“I’mafuckingamateur.”
“Thelovepart.”Ilaughed.
Heturnedtoglareatme.
“Iloveyou,youlittlefool.IinsistedonnoprenupbecauseIdidn’twantyoutorunaway,notbecauseIcaredaboutthemoney.Itwasneveraboutthemoney.EvenwhenItookthejobwithGeraldandCillian,therewasonethingIcaredabout,andithadnothingtodowithpower.IhadthatbeforeIsetfootinyourhouse.Iwantedtobeclosetoyou,evenifIhatednotbeingabletohaveyou.Ivisitedyourfatheronaweeklybasis.Thisthingwasbiggerthanbothofus,butwehadalottolose.”
TheideathatIwasn’ttheonlyonewhowaitedtocatchglimpsesofhimmademyheartstutter.Iwalkedbacktohim,gentlyplacingmyhandonhischeek.Hecurledhisfingersovermyarm,lookingupatme.
“Iwasclosetoblowingitalltoshit,wasn’tI?Youandme.Thenightyouranawayintothewoods.Icouldfeelit.”
Ishookmyhead.
“Ineverstoppedlovingyou,Sam.Even—andespecially—whenyouleastdeservedmylove.”
“Kissme,Nix.”Hetuggedmedowntohim.Ourlipsmet.Hiswerecoldanddryandchapped,andIquivered,wantingtocrywithwhathe’dbeenthrough.Ipressedfeatherykissesaroundhismouth,chin,andneck,smilingdownathim,kissinghisforeheadonelasttime.
“Iloveyou,”Iwhispered.
“Ifuckingliveforyou,”Samretorted.“Literally.I’mabouttogiveupalottohaveyou.”
“Soyoushould.”Iwalkedaway,takingonelastglanceathim,knowingweweregoingtohaveamillionmoregoodbyes.
Andamillionmorehellos,too.
Irantothewaitingroom,breakingthegoodnewswitharushofstutteringwords.Sparrowsquealedanddartedtowardtheroom.Myparentsletoutarelievedbreath,thoughIwasn’tentirelysurewhatmyfatherwasdoinghereinthefirstplace.Wasittheguiltofkeepingusapartforalltheseyears?
CillianandHunterweretheonlyoneswhodidn’tlookvisiblydelightedbythenews.TheyglaredatmehardasIrehashedthemomentinwhichSamwokeup,obviouslyomittingthelovey-doveystuffthatwouldmakethemgag.
“Hey,Ash,canwespeaktoyou?”Hunterclearedhisthroat,throwingaglanceatmyparents.“Alone.”
HeturnedaroundbeforeIcouldanswer,marchingdownthehallway.Cillianfollowedhimwordlessly.Frowning,Iwentafterthem,somethingcoldandstonysettlinginmychest.Thisdidn’tsoundgood.
Theystoppedwhenwereachedthejunctionbetweentheelevatorsandtheemergencyexit,agoodlengthawayfromourparents.Theybothturnedtolookatme.AllIneededwasonelooktofigureoutthattheykneweverything.
“Whathaveyoubeenplayingat,Aisling?”Cilliandemanded,hisvoicelikeiciclesdrippingdownmyskin,causinggoosebumpstoriseinitswake.“Wewenttothefrontdeskandaskedforyouwhenwefirstarrivedhere.Wecouldn’treachyouonyourcell,sowethoughttogodownstairsandcheck.ThereceptioniststoldustherewasnoDr.Fitzpatrickinthehospital.Ranthroughthedatabase.Infact,wewentasfarasgoingtothegynecologydepartmentourselvestolookforyou—maybeyouweren’tregisteredyetbecauseyouarestilldoingyourresidency—butI’msureyouknowwecamebackempty-handed.”
“Youareworkingsomewhere,”Hunterpointedout.“Thelonghours,thehospitalscrubs,yourdisappearingactsduringdinners.Whatthehellisityou’vebeendoing?”
Imusthaveturnedpalebecauseeventhoughtheystilllookedatmeliketheywantedtokillme,theyschooledtheirfacesandstoppedshoweringmewithquestions.IknewIhadtwooptions.ComecleanandownuptowhatIdidforalmostayearorletthemlivewithahalf-assedlie.Aliewouldn’tbesoharmful.Afterall,Iquit.
Still,Icouldn’tlietothem.Notagain.Mylieswerepilingupneatlyonmyconscience.Besides,IcouldnolongerpretendtobesomeoneIwasn’t.Someonetailor-madeformyfamilytoensuretheywerehappyandfulfilledandproudofme
Myparents.
Mybrothers.
Myprofessors.
EventhelateMs.Bmoldedmeintothewomanshewantedmetobecome.
Nomore.
SoItoldthem.Iopenedmymouth,andthetruthcameout.AboutDr.Doyle.Howwe’dmet.AboutMs.B’sdeathandhowitaffectedme.AboutthefirsttimeIsawSam.Howitwasn’tthedaytheFitzpatrickshadinvitedhimoveralongwiththeBrennans,butmonthsbeforethat.ItoldthemIhadquit.ThatIcouldn’tputmyselfatriskanymoretohelpothers.ThatSambentmyarmandwouldn’tbudge.
“It’sthefirstandlastthingthatfuckerdidright,”Huntermumbled,pullingmeintoahug,pressingmeclosetohisheart.“Fuck,Ash,I’msosorry.Weweresowrappedupinourownshit,weneverreallystoppedtoconsiderwhatyouweregoingthroughafteryourgovernessdied.Itdidn’thelpthatyoualwayslookedlikeyouknewwhatyouweredoing.Theperfectdaughter.”
“Heisright,”Cilliansaidpithily.“Weneglectedyouforfartoolong.We’llberectifyingthatinthefuture.”
“So…”Ilookedbetweenthem“…you’renotjudgingme?ForwhatIdid?”
“Judgingyou?”Cillianliftedabrow.“YoujustprovedtobeatrueFitzpatrick.Darklycomplexandterriblypragmatic.I’mproudtocallyoumysister.”
Tendayslater,Igotoutofthehospital.AislingandSparrowdotedonmyasslikeIwasababy,fussingovermeandcheckingonmeeverysinglehour,droppingmymasculinitylevelstonewlowsIwasprettysureonlypoodleswithdesignerhaircutshadsuffered.
Thefirsttwodays,Ihumoredthem,mostlybecauseIwastryingtoplaynicewithmyfiancée.Bydaythree,however,ImadetheexecutivedecisiontothrowallthefucksthedoctorshadaskedIgiveaboutmyhealthoutthewindow.
“Nix,stop.”Icaughtherhand.Itrestedonmychestinourapartment—yes,ourapartment—asshepattedmyforeheadwithahot,wetcloth.“Nomoreofthisbullshit.I’mgoingbacktothestreetstonight.”
Herpeacockeyeswidenedinhorror,herrosebudmouthpouting.
“You’restillrecovering.”
“I’mboredoutofmyass,andIhaveajobtodo.”
“Youcandoitwhenyou’refeelingbetter.”
“I’mfeelingprettyfuckinggreat.Wouldyoulikemetodemonstrate?”Iraisedaneyebrow,myeyesdroppingtotheimpressivebulgeinmypants.Nomattermyphysicalstate,wheneverAislingwasintheroomsowasmyneedtofuckherthroughthemattress,floor,andearth.
“Wehadadeal,remember?”Shewithdrewherhandfrommine,steppingback,standinginfrontofmeinourbedroom.
“Yes,mylove.Iwasrightfuckingtherewhenwehadit.”Ismiledimpatiently
Itwasonethingtogiveuphalfmykingdomforher.Itwasquitea-fucking-nothertobehappyaboutit.“YetanotherreasonwhyIneedtogetmyassoutofbedandtakecareofbusiness.Givememyphone.”Isnappedmyfingerstowardthenightstand.
Shequirkedaneyebrow,knottingherarmsoverherchest.
Shewasmyfiancée,notmysoldier.Ihadalongwaytogowhenitcametotreatingherliketheprincessthatshewas.MostlybecauseI’dneverhadtotreatanyonewellmyentirelife.
“Please.Andthankyou.”Igrinnedwolfishly,andshepickedmyphoneup,handingitovertome.
“Whoareyoucalling?”
Ialreadyhadthephonepressedtomyear.“Troy.”
“Whereareyoutwogoing?”
“You’llfindoutsoonenough.”
“You’realwaysgoingtokeepmeonmytoes,aren’tyou?”Shesighedbutlookedhappyaboutit.Igrabbedthehemofherdressandpulledherdownforafilthy,deepkiss.
“Notatall.SometimesI’llkeepyouonyourback,too.Andonallfours.Butwhateveryourposition,Ipromiseyou’llfuckingenjoyit.”
Thefollowingevening,TroyparkedinfrontofVasilyMikhailov’sRussiandeliinBrookline.Hetossedmeadoubtfullook.
“Yousureyouwannadothis?Youcantellheryoudidit,andshe’llbenonethewiser.Iknowyou’veworkedhardtoconquerBrookline.”
“WhateverhappenedtochewingmorethanIcouldswallow?”
“Justplayingdevil’sadvocatebeforeyoumakeamove.”
“Youdon’thavetoplaydevil’sadvocatewithme.Iknowwhatgoesoninsidethedevil’shead.”Ipushedthepassengerdooropen,slidingoutandcockingmygunasIdid.IheardTroydoingthesamebehindme.Weroundedhiscar,poppingthetrunkopen.Vasily’sdaughter,Masha,blinkedatthesuddenlightcomingfrombehindourshoulders,hermouthgagged,herhandsandfeettiedtogetherbehindherback.
Ismiledcordially.“MissMikhailov,thankyouforcontributingtoourcause.”
Shemurmuredsomethinghystericalaroundthefabriccoveringhermouth,butIcouldn’tdistinguishit.
“What’sthat?”Iasked.“Nevermind.Youwerenevercapturedforyourconversationalskills.OnlyasapawntoensureyourdaddyknowsIwillslaughteryouifhedoesn’tbendtomywill.”
Ihoistedherupovermyshoulder,marchingtowardthedeli.
Thebellabovethedeli’sdoorchimedaswesteppedinside.Iaimedmyguntowardtheshopownerwithmyfreehand,anelderlyRussianmanwithaweather-beatenfacemarredwithredandbluefromyearsofbravingthecold.Mashawasstilldrapedovermyshoulder,likeapigonitswaytoslaughter,stilldressedinthesameexpensivecoatanddesignerheelssheworeonhershoppingspreethismorning.
“Where’sVasily?”Iclipped.
Theman’seyesflaredatthesightinfrontofhim.Mashathrasheddesperately,tryingtowriggleoutofmyhands.
“I…I…”hestarted,knowingfullwellhewasnotallowedtoletpeopleintothebackoffice.Thatwaswherehisbosswassituated.
IturnedmyaimfromhisheadtoMasha’sspine,diggingthegunintoherbones.“Betterfuckinghurryoryou’llhavetoexplaintoyourbosswhyhisdaughter’sgutsarespilledalloveryourfloor.I’mguessingit’llbeabitchtocleanup,too.Though,Idoubthe’llspareyourlifeafterlettingithappen.”
“Comewithme!”themanblurtedout,jumpingfromhisplacebehindthecounter,roundingitandpushinganoldwoodendooropen.
Theplacesmelledofpickles,driedmeat,andsmoke.Ifollowedtheman’sback,Troyatmyheels.Afterpassingthroughanarrow,dustycorridorwereachedanotherdoor.Heopenedit.
Vasilywasathisdesk,surroundedbythreeofhishigh-rankedmen.Hehadthepointy,fox-lookofacomicbookvillain,whichhehighlightedwithgoodsuitsandbadmanners.Butnotevenafuckingballgowncouldhidethefactthathisfacewasriddledwithknifescars.Myinitials—S.A.B.—werecarvedintohisforehead,jaggedandwhite.
Hisbodyguardswereonalert,twooneachside,allofthempossessingthepeculiarlookofsemitrailersandsimilarIQs.Themiddle-agedmanwithsilverhairandpaleblueeyeslookedupatme,puttinghiscigardowninanashtray,sendingsmokewhirlingtotheceiling.
“Brennan.You’realive.”
“Andyou’resurprised.”IrearrangedMashaonmyshoulder.EventhoughIusedmyhealthyshouldertocarryherandnottheonehismenputabulletthrough,Istillwasn’tmyusualself.Normally,carryingawomanofMasha’sslightweightwasakintowearingagoddamnscarf.
“AndIseeyoubroughtyourdaddy.”Vasily’seyesslidfrommetoTroy,whostoodbesideme.
“Seemedfair,”Troyclippeddryly,“seeingasyouhaveanentirearmysurroundingyou.Notusedtodoingthedirtyworkanymore,areyou,Vasily?”
“Anditshows.Twobullets,andnotonepiercedmyheart,”Itsked,shakingmyhead.“Mytoddlernephewhasbetteraiminthetoiletwhilepottytraining.”
Mashatwistedinmyarms,respondingtoherfather’swordsandtenor.Idruggedheralittle—enoughtokeephersilentandeasytomanage—andIknewtheseanimalswerewonderingifIusedtheopportunitytoshovemydickinher,andmaybeevenarrangeditsoaBrennanbastardwasinsidehertoensuretheBratvacouldnevertouchmeagain.
“Whatdoyouwant?”Vasilydemanded,dartingupfromhisleatherseat.“Youobviouslycamehereforretaliation,sojustspititout.Andno,mydaughtercannotbeapartofthedeal.Sheisaninnocent.Wehaveacode,”hegrowled.
“Youhaveacode,”Icorrected.“Ilackmoralsandfucks.Soitiseithermywayorthehighway,andconsideringyouwereveryclosetosendingmetoanearlygrave,youbettertakemyterms,nostipulationsandnonegotiations.”
“Speak!”Vasilyslappedahandoverhisdesk,seething.“Andputherdown,forGod’ssake!”
“I’llgiveyoubackBrookline,butyouwillhandmemonthlyprotectionmoney.Apercentageofallyourbusinesses,”Isaidflatly.
Vasily’seyesnarrowed.
“Protectionfromwhat?WearetheBratva!Weprotectourselves.”
“Hey,Ineverpromisedtomakesense.”Ishrugged,andMashamoanedagainstmyshoulder,weepingthroughtheclothcoveringhermouth.“Butrightnow,Ihavesoldierseverywhereinyourterritory.Iammakingmoremoneythanyoueverdidhere.Ifyouwantmetoretreat,youneedtomakeitworthmywhile.”
Vasilystrokedhischin,consideringmyproposition.Hismenwerereadyforbattle—Icouldtellbythewaytheirmusclesbunchedundertheirshirts.
“Haveyoutouchedher?”heasked,hisRussianaccentthicklycoatingeachwordwithworry.
“No,”Isaidhonestly.“Irequiremywomentobewillingandconscious.”
Ialsopreferthemtobejustonewoman—Aisling.Istillcouldn’tbelieveshemademegothroughwiththis.GiveupsuchastrategicpartofBoston.Lovewasabitch,butitwassomethingIhadtoendureinordertokeepNix.
“Putherdown,”Vasilyrepeated,hisvoiceshakingslightly.InallthetimeI’dknownhim,VasilyMikhailov’svoicehadneverwavered.Hewasscared.
“Concede,”Ihissed.
Heloweredhishead,soclosetodefeatthedespairwastangibleintheair.
“What’syourprotectionrate?”
“Eightpercentofallyourbusinesses’cleanprofit.”
“Six,”heclipped,jottingdownsomethingonapieceofpaperrestingonhisdesk,alreadymakingthecalculation.
“Eight.Loveispriceless,Mikhailov,”Iremindedhim.
Helookedup.“Fine.Nowputherdown.”
IputMashaonthefloor.Sheflailed,hereyeserraticallylookingforherfatheramongtheshadowsofpeopleintheroom.Vasilyrantoher,crouchingdownandremovingaknifefromhisItalianloafers.Hebegantearingtheropesthattiedhertogether,whisperingRussianendearmentsinherear,hisfacecontortedwithemotion.
Troyputahandonmyshoulder.
“Timetogo,son.”
“Allright,Dad.”
ItwasthefirsttimeIcalledhimDad,butIknewitwasnotgoingtobethelast.
Iturnedaroundandfollowedhim,feelinghimsmiling,evenwithhisbacktome.
ForthefirsttimesinceIwasborn,Ifeltsomethingforeignandaddictive.
Ibelonged.
“Justfortherecord,Iwillneverforgiveyou.”MymotherscoopedherHermesbagfromthechapel’sfloor,herheelsclickingprovocativelyasshesashayedoutside.
Myfatherstoodbehindher,shrugginghelplessly,awhat-can-you-doexpressiononhisface.TroyandSparrowwerebehindthem,gatheringtheirbelongings.
“Shecanandwillforgiveyou.Dinnerisateight.Pleasedon’tbelate.”Hekissedbothmycheeks,givingSam,whostoodbymyside,afirmhandshake.
Bellewasthenextpersontoslideoutofherpew.
“Ican’tbelieveyou.”Shebristledindelight,clutchingmyarms,shakingmealittle.“Youactuallywentaheadwithit.”
“AVegaswedding.”Persephoneslidfromthesamepew,Cillianstandingrightnexttoher.Persyheldhertummy,inwhichmynextnepheworniecewascookingquitenicely.“Whowouldhavethought?”
“Iwould,”Samcutharshlythrougheveryone’scoosandmurmurs.“SeeingasAislingwasn’ttheonlypersontogetmarriedtoday.Besides,itwasaclassyVegaswedding.”
“That’sanoxymoron,”Cillianpointedout.
“No,heisright.Itwastotallyclassy.”Sailor’sfacepoppedoutofnowhere.Hunterstoodclosetoher.“NothingsayselegancequitelikebeingmarriedbyElvishimselfwhileabunchofagingmendressedlike*NSyncsingabotchedkaraokeversionof‘It’sGonnaBeMe’inthebackground.Isn’tthatwhatPrinceWilliamandKatedidfortheirwedding?”Sailorfrowned,curlingherfingersunderherchinthoughtfully.
“IdobelieveWillsandKatehadTakeThatwannabessinging‘RelightmyFire’atthereception,”Devoninterrupted,clearinghisthroat.TheBritishmanseemedsooutofplaceatthecheesychapel,Iletoutagiggle.
“Wecouldn’taffordtowait.”Ibitdownonmylip.“Myresidencyisstartinginacoupleofweeks,andIwouldn’thavetimetoplanmylunchbreaks,letaloneawedding,nottomention—”
“Iknockedherup.”Samdeliveredthenewsflatly,nohintofemotionsinhisvoice.Iwhippedmyheadtowardhim,shockedthatheletoursecretoutandgratefulthatmyparentsweren’tinourvicinityanymore.
Samkepthiseyesonourfriends,notme,whileIverypossiblyblushedmyselfintoanearlygraveinsidemyrespectablewhitedress.
“Aislingwantedtowaituntilherresidencywasover,butmyspermhadotherideas.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”Persyfrowned,herhandmovingincirclesaroundherbelly
“Didthecondombreak?”Belleinterfered,keepingitblunt.“Doyoubuycheap-assjohnnies,Samuel?Ordidyoupokeholesinitwithaneedle?Iheardarockstarautobiographywheresomethinglikethathappenedtohim.Okay,fine,watchedamovie.”
“Phew,”Hunterlaughed,“forasecondthereIthoughtyoustartedreading.”
“I’msorry,isn’ttheilliterateidiotconventionnextdoor?”Cillianinquiredtersely.“IbelieveSamuelandAislingaretryingtobreakthenewsofanewpregnancyinthefamily.”
“Hell,bro,”Huntersnorted.“I’mjusttryingtotakeyourmindoffthefactthatBrennansexedourbabysisterup.”
“Hunter!”Everyoneshriekedinunison,otherthanEmmabelle,wholaughed,enjoyingherself,andDevon,whowastoobusystaringatBelletocarewhateveryonewassaying.
“Anyway,no.”Ishookmyhead.“Iwasonthepillandwasverygoodaboutit.There’salwaysaveryslightchancethepillwon’twork.AndIguessithappenedtome.”Igrinned,lookingupatSamwhilehepressedaproudkisstomyforehead.
TwomonthsafterSamtoldVasilyMikhailovhecouldhaveBrooklineback,wewentouttocelebratethefactIgotacceptedtoanearbyhospitaltobeginmyresidency.ItwasmyfavoriteThaiplace,andeventhoughwehadawonderfultime,Iwenttobedfeelingill.WhenIwokeupthenextmorning,Ipukedmygutsoutandfiguredsomethingmusthaveupsetmystomach.
Butthenithappenedthemorningafter.
Andafter.
Andafter.
“When’sthelasttimeyouhadyourperiod?”SamhadquestionedwhenIclosedinonaweekofthrowingupeachmorningandfeelingmiraculouslybetterduringtherestoftheday.“Becausewe’vebeenhavingsexeverydayforatleastnineweeksinarownow.”
I’dscrunchedmynose,thinkingaboutit.
Mycycleswereprettyregular,andbesides,Iwasonthepill.
“Ican’tbepregnant,”I’dsaidfinally.
“Can’tordon’twanttobe?”Samhadraisedaneyebrow.
“Both?”I’dwinced,butdeepdownIknewtherewouldn’tbeonepartofmethatwouldbeupsetifIfoundoutIwaspregnant.
“I’llgogetusapregnancytestrightnow.”
“Thankyou.”
Andherewewereaweeklater,marriedinVegasinfrontofourclosestfriendsandfamily.I’dalwaysimaginedhavingagrand,fancywedding,butassoonasIrealizedIwaspregnant,Iknewamassiveweddingwasn’twhatIwanted.Itwassimplywhatwasexpectedofme.WhatIreallywantedwastobemarriedtothemanofmydreamsassoonashumanlypossible.
Themanwhohadgivenmeanewferretformylastbirthdayanddidn’tevenlooksurprisedorputoffbythefactIhadnameditShelly,aftermypreviousferret.
Besides,asSamhadpointedout,hewonourmarriageinacardgame.Itwasonlyfittingwewouldgetmarriedinthegamblingcapitaloftheworld.Thesymmetryofthenarrativepleasedme.
Twomonsters,promisingtheirlivestooneanotherinSinCity.
“IbetSammanagedtoknockyouupsomehowwhenherealizedthekindofweddingyourparentswantedyoutohavewouldtakehalfacenturytoplan.”Sailorlaughed,side-eyeingherbrotherknowingly.
Ilookeduptomyhusbandandnoticedtheslysmileonhisface.
Hecouldn’thave.
Hewouldn’t…wouldhe?
Cockingmyheadslightly,Inarrowedmyeyesathim.
“Sam?”Iasked.
Myhusbandpressedakisstomymouth.
“I’mthefixer,”wasallhesaid,keepingitatthat.
IhadnevertoldanyonewhatthelastthingMs.BtoldmerightaftershedemandedIstopvisitingtohelpher.
“Ican’thandleyouanymore,butonedayyou’llfindamanwhocan.Andwhenyoufindhim,moncheri,youholdontohim,nomatterwhat,forhewillbendtoyourwill,eventhoughhe’llputupafight.”
Iopenedmyeyes,lookedupatmyhusbandoftenminutes,andsmiled.
Ifearednoevil.
ButIdidfallinlovewithone.

Fourmonthslater.

CilliandroppedhiscardsonthetableinBadland’scardroom,glancingathisphonewithafrown.“I’mout.”
“You’reout?”Hunterechoed,eyeinghisolderbrotherwithapparentshock.“You’reneverout.”
“Iamwhenmywife’swaterbreaks.”CilliantossedhiscardsontoHunter’slap,hisshoulderbrushingmineasIleanedoverthetabletograbanothercard.Cillianstoppedtoraisehisfingertowardmeinwarning.
“Yoursmugsmirkisunwarranted,Brennan.Notonlyareyounext,butknowingmysister,she’llhavefourchildrenattheveryleast.Goodluckgettingsomesleepinthenextdecadeorso.”
HemadeaquickexitbeforeIcouldrespondthatnothingcouldpersuademeapregnantAislingwasabadidea.Nixhadneverbeenhornierinherentirefuckinglife.Iwason-callthreetimesadayfordickduty,eventhoughshewasstillworkinglonghoursatthehospitalmostdays.
Shealsoturnedouttohaveasweettooth,whichmeantIhadtofeedhercandyandchocolatewheneverherheartdesired.
Atnight,I’dslipunderthecoversnexttoherandpressmyhandtoherswollenstomach,feelingmysonkickingupastorm.Hewassoaliveandhappyinsideher,Icouldn’twaittomeethim.
“Asithappens,myrevengeforthesmirk-festjustwalkedthroughthedoorintheshapeofyourverypregnantwife.Hello,sis,”IheardCilliandrawlbehindmyback.IturnedaroundtofindNixstandingtherejustasCillianbenttokissheronthecheek,herbellypokingoutinherscrubs,atiredsmileonherface
“Fivegamesofblackjack,Brennan?”Sheofferedmeahand,drawingcuriousglancesfromallthemenaroundus.
IveryrarelystayedatBadlandsafterdarkthesedays,andwhenIdid,itwasmostlytokeepmybrothers-in-lawincheck.
“What’sthestakes?”Ieyedherskeptically.“Makeitworthmywhile,Mrs.Brennan.IalreadyhaveeverythingIneed.”
Shesaunteredtowardme,atauntingsmirkonherface,andbenttowardmyear.Thewholeroomhelditsbreath.
“You’llgettoripofftheredsatinlingerieI’mwearingrightnowifyouwin,”shewhispered.
Nixleanedbackward,straighteningherback.
“Andifyouwin?”Iaskednonchalantly.
Shewasn’tgoingtowin.
Ialwayswon.
“Iwantustobuyahouse.Ilikeourapartmentfine,don’tgetmewrong,butIwantsomewherebigandspacious.”
“Somewheretofitallthekidsyouareplanningongivinghim,”Huntercoughedintohisfistinthebackground,drawinglaughter.
Aislingofferedmeherhandagain,staringatmeunderhersoot-blackeyelashes.“Whatdoyousay?”
Itookherhandandshookit.
Shedidn’thavetoknowI’dalreadypurchasedthelandrightnexttoherparents’houseandthatIwasgoingtobuildthehouseofherdreamsthere.
Justlikeshedidn’tknowaboutthatnightatthecarnival,whenIhadlockedmyselfintheportablerestroomafterkissingherbecauseforthefirsttimesinceIwasnine,facingtheworldwastoomuch.
Lustlingers,lovestays.
Lustisimpatient,lovewaits.
Lustburns,lovewarms.
Lustdestroys,butlove?Lovekills.
S.A.B.
Iwaswrong.Lovedidn’tkillme.Lovesavedme.
Aislingwasgoingtofindoutaboutbothmysurprisessoon.
Butnotyet.
NotuntilItorethesatinlingerieoffofher.
Andshowedherthateveryonecouldlove.
Butmonsters?Welovedalittleharder.

TheEnd
Thankyousomuchfortakingthetimetoreadthisbook.IlovedtellingthestoryofSamandAisling,andthemomentIwroteTheEndwasbittersweet,sincethisseriesmeanssomuchtome.

Icouldn’thavedonethiswithoutmyamazingteamofeditors:TamaraMataya,PaigeMaroneySmith,andAngelaMarshallSmith.SpecialthankstoTijuanaTurner,VanessaVillegas,LanaKart,ChelseaHumphreyandAmyHalterforreadingthisbookbeforehand.

KimberlyBrower,JennWatson,CatherineAnderson—thankyousomuchforallyoudo.

StaceyRyanBlakeandLetitiaHasser—yourworkisbeyondamazing,Iamsogratefultohaveyou.

Andtoyou,thereaders,bloggersandsupporters.Icouldn’thavedonethiswithoutyou.

Pleaseconsiderleavingabrief,honestreviewbeforeyoumoveontoyournextbookadventure.

Love,

L.J.Shen.
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SinnersofSaint:
Defy(#0.1)
Vicious(#1)
Ruckus(#2)
Scandalous(#3)
Bane(#4)

AllSaintsHigh:
PrettyReckless(#1)
BrokenKnight(#2)
AngryGod(#3)

BostonBelles:
TheHunter(#1)
TheVillain(#2)
TheMonster(#3)
TheTake(#4,TBA2021)

Standalones:
Tyed
Sparrow
BloodtoDust
MidnightBlue
DirtyHeadlines
IntheUnlikelyEvent
TheKissThief
PlayingwithFire
TheDevilWearsBlackBeforeyougo,here’sasmallexcerptofPrettyReckless.IfyouenjoytheworldofBostonBelles,youwillloveAllSaintsHigh…

Itstartedwithalemonade
Andendedwithmyheart
This,myprettyrecklessrival,ishowourscrewed-upstorystarts

AgeFourteen.

Thetilesundermyfeetshakeasaherdofballerinasblazespastme,theirfeetpoundinglikeartilleryinthedistance.
Brownhair.Blackhair.Straighthair.Redhair.Curlyhair.Theyblurintoarainbowoftrimsandscrunchies.MyeyesaresearchingfortheblondheadI’dliketobashagainstthewell-wornfloor.
Feelfreenottobeheretoday,QueenBitch.
Istandfrozenonthethresholdofmymother’sballetstudio,mypalepinkleotardstickingtomyribs.Mywhiteduffelbagdanglesfrommyshoulder.Mytightbunmakesmyscalpburn.WheneverIletmyhairdown,mygoldenlocksfalloffinchunksonthebathroomfloor.ItellMomit’sfrommessingwithmyhairtoomuch,butthat’sBS.Andifshegaveadamn—reallygaveone,notjustpretendedto—she’dknowthis,too.
Iwigglemybanged-uptoesinmypointeshoes,swallowingtheballofanxietyinmythroat.Viaisn’there.Thankyou,Marx.
Girlstorpedopastme,bumpingintomyshoulders.Ifeeltheirgigglesinmyemptystomach.Myduffelbagfallswithathud.Myclassmatesareleaner,longer,andmoreflexiblewithrod-straightbackslikeanexclamationmark.Me?I’msmallandmuscularlikeaquestionmark.Alwaysunsureandonthevergeofsnapping.Myfaceisnotstoicandregal;it’straitorousandunpredictable.Someweartheirheartsontheirsleeves—Iwearmineonmymouth.IsmilewithmyteethwhenI’mhappy,andwhenmymomlooksatme,I’malwayshappy.
“Youshouldreallytakegymnasticsorcheer,Lovebug.Itsuitsyousomuchbetterthanballet.”
ButMomsometimessaysthingsthatdigatmyself-esteem.There’saroundeddentonitssurfacenow,theshapeofherwords,andthat’swhereIkeepmyanger.
MelodyGreen-FollowhillisaformerballerinawhobrokeherlegduringherfirstweekatJuilliardwhenshewaseighteen.BallethasbeenexpectedofmesincethedayIwasborn.And—justmyluck—Ihappentobeexceptionallybadatit.
EnterViaScully.
Alsofourteen,ViaiseverythingIstrivetobe.Taller,blonder,andskinnier.Worstofall,hernaturaltalentmakesmydancinglooklikeaninsulttoleotardsallovertheworld.
Threemonthsago,ViareceivedaletterfromtheRoyalBalletAcademyaskinghertoaudition.Fourweeksago—shedid.Herhotshotparentscouldn’tgetthetimeoffwork,somymomjumpedatthechancetoflyheronaweeklongtriptoLondon.NowtheentireclassiswaitingtohearifViaisgoingtostudyattheRoyalBalletAcademy.Wordaroundthestudioisshehasitinthebag.EventheUkrainiandanseurAlexeiPetrov—asixteen-year-oldprodigywhoisliketheJustinBieberofballet—postedanIGstorywithheraftertheaudition.
Lookingforwardtocreatingmagictogether.
Itwouldn’tsurprisemetolearnViacandomagic.She’salwaysbeenawitch.
“Lovebug,stopfrettingbythedoor.You’reblockingeveryone’sway,”mymothersingsongswithherbacktome.Icanseeherreflectionthroughthefloor-to-ceilingmirror.She’sfrowningattheattendancesheetandglancingatthedoor,hopingtoseeVia.
Sorry,Mom.Justyourspawnoverhere.
Viaisalwayslate,andmymother,whonevertoleratestardiness,letshergetawaywithit.
Ibenddowntopickupmyduffelbagandpadintothestudio.Ashinybarreframestheroom,andafloor-to-ceilingwindowdisplaysdowntownTodosSantosinallitsphotogenic,upper-crustglory.Peach-coloredbenchesgracetree-linedstreets,andcrystalbluetowerssparklelikethethinlinewheretheoceankissesthesky.
Ihearthedoorsqueakingopenandsqueezemyeyesshut.
Pleasedon’tbehere.
“Via!We’vebeenwaitingforyou,”Mom’schirpislikeaBBgunshootingmeintheback,andItumbleovermyownfeetfromtheshockwave.Snortsexplodeallovertheroom.Imanagetogripthebarre,pullingmyselfupasecondbeforemykneeshitthefloor.Flushed,Igraspitinonehandandslideintoasloppyplié.
“Lovebug,beadarlingandmakesomeroomforVia,”Mompurrs.
Symbolically,Mother,I’dloveforViatomakemyasssomeroom,too.
Ofcourse,herpreciousprodigyisn’twearingherballetgeartodayeventhoughsheownsItalian-importedleotardsothergirlscanonlydreamof.Viaclearlycomesfrommoneybecauseevenrichpeopledon’tlikeshellingouttwohundredbucksforabasicleotard.OtherthanMom—whoprobablyfiguresI’llneverbeatrueballerinasotheleastshecandoisdressmeuplikeone.
Today,ViaiswearingacroppedyellowTweetyBirdshirtandrippedleggings.Hereyesarered,andherhairisamess.Doessheevenmakeaneffort?
Shethrowsmeapatronizingsmirk.“Lovebug.”
“Puppy,”Iretort.
“Puppy?”Shesnorts.
“I’dcallyouabitch,butlet’sadmitit,yourbitedoesn’treallyhaveteeth.”
Ireadjustmyshoes,pretendingthatI’moverher.I’mnotoverher.Shemonopolizesmymother’stime,andshe’sbeenonmycasewaybeforeIstartedtalkingback.ViaattendsanotherschoolinSanDiego.Sheclaimsit’sbecauseherparentsthinkthekidsinTodosSantosaretooshelteredandspoiled.Herparentswanthertogrowupwithrealpeople.
Knowwhatelseisfake?Pretendingtobesomethingyou’renot.IownuptothefactI’maprissyprincess.Sueme(Pleasedo.Icanaffordreallygoodlegaldefense).
“Meetmeafterclass,Vi,”Momquips,thenturnsbackaroundtothestereo.Vi(Vi!)usestheopportunitytostretchherleg,stompingonmytoesintheprocess.
“Oops.Lookslikeyou’renottheonlyclumsypersonaroundhere,Daria.”
“Iwouldtellyoutodropdead,butI’mafraidmymomwouldforcemetogotoyourfuneral,andyoulegitaren’tworthmytime.”
“Iwouldtellyoutokissmyass,butyourmomalreadydoesthat.Ifsheonlylikedyouhalfasmuchasshelikesme.It’scool,though;atleastyouhavemoneyfortherapy.Andanosejob.”Shepatsmybackwithasmirk,andIhate,hate,hatethatsheisprettier.
Ican’tconcentratefortherestofthehour.I’mnotstupid.EventhoughIknowmymotherlovesmemorethanVia,Ialsoknowit’sbecauseshe’sgeneticallyprogrammedtodoso.
Centuriestickby,buttheclassisfinallydismissed.Allthegirlssashaytotheelevatorinpairs.
“Dariadarling,domeafavorandgetusdrinksfromStarbucks.I’mgoingtothelittlegirls’room,thenwrappingsomethinguprealquickwithVi.”Mompatsmyshoulder,thensauntersoutofthestudio,leavingatrailofherperfumelikefairydust.Mymomwoulddonateallherorganstosaveoneofherstudents’fingernails.Shesmothersherballerinaswithlove,leavingmesaddledwithjealousy.
IgrabMom’sbagandturnaroundbeforeIhaveachancetoexchangewhatDaddycalls“unpleasantries”withVia.
“Youshould’veseenherfacewhenIauditioned.”Viastretchesinfrontofthemirrorbehindme.She’sasagileasacontortionist.SometimesIthinkshecouldwrapherselfaroundmyneckandchokemetodeath.
“Wehadablast.Shetoldmethatbythelooksofit,notonlyamIin,butI’malsogoingtobetheirstarstudent.Itfeltkindof…”Shesnapsherfingers,lookingfortheword.Iseeherinthereflectionofthemirrorbutdon’tturnaround.Tearsarehangingonmylowerlashesfortheirdearlives.“Aredemption,orsomething.Likeyoucan’tbeaballerinabecauseyou’reso,youknow,you.Butthenthere’sme.Soatleastshe’llgettoseesomeoneshelovesmakeit.”
DaddysaysagreenHulklivesinsideme,andhegetsbiggerandbiggerwhenIgetjealous,andsometimes,theHulkblaststhroughmyskinanddoesthingstheDariaheknowsandloveswouldneverdo.Hesaysjealousyisthetributemediocritypaystogenius,andI’mnomediocregirl.
Let’sjustsayIdisagree.
I’vealwaysbeenpopular,andI’vealwaysfoughthardforaplaceinthefoodchainwhereIcanenjoytheview.ButIthinkI’mordinary.Viaisextraordinaryandglowssobright,sheburnseverythinginhervicinity.I’mthedustbeneathherfeet,andI’mcrushed,andbitter,andHulky.
Nobodywantstobeabadperson.Butsomepeople—likeme—justcan’thelpthemselves.Atearrollsdownmycheek,andI’mthankfulwe’realone.Iturnaroundtofaceher
“Whatthehellisyourproblem?”
“Whatisn’t?”Shesighs.“Youareaspoiledprincess,ashallowidiot,andaterribledancer.HowcansomeonesountalentedbeborntotheMelodyGreen-Followhill?”
Idon’tknow!Iwanttoscream.Noonewantstobeborntoagenius.Marx,blessSeanLennonforsurvivinghisownexistence.
Ieyeherpriceypointeshoesandarchamockingeyebrow.“Don’tpretendI’mtheonlyprincesshere.”
“You’reanairhead,Daria.”Sheshakesherhead.
“AtleastI’mnotaspaz.”Ipretendtobeblasé,butmywholebodyisshaking.
“Youcan’tevengetintoadecentfirstposition.”Shethrowsherhandsintheair.Sheisn’twrong,andthatenragesme.
“Again—why.Do.You.Care!”Iroar.
“Becauseyou’reawasteoffuckingspace,that’swhy!WhileI’mbustingmyass,yougetaplaceinthisclassjustbecauseyourmotheristheteacher,.”
Thisismychancetotellherthetruth.
ThatI’mbustingmineevenharder,preciselybecauseIwasn’tbornaballerina.Instead,myheartshatterslikeglass.Ispinonmyheelanddartdownthefireescape,takingthestairstwoatatime.IpourmyselfoutintotheblazingCaliforniaheat.AnyothergirlwouldtakealeftanddisappearinsideLibertyPark,butItakearightandenterStarbucksbecauseIcan’t—won’t—disappointmymommorethanIalreadyhave.Ilookleftandrighttomakesurethecoastisclear,thenreleasethesobthathasweighedonmychestforthepasthour.Igetintoline,tuggingopenMom’spursefromherbagasIwipemytearsawaywithmysleeve.Somethingfallstothefloor,soIpickitup.
It’sacrispletterwithmyhomeaddressonit,butthenamegivesmepause.
SylviaScully.
Sniffing,Iriptheletteropen.Idon’tstoptothinkthatitisn’tminetoopen.SeeingVia’smerenameabovemyaddressmakesmewanttoscreamuntilthewallsinthisplacefall.Thefirstthingthatregistersisthesymbolatthetop.
TheRoyalBalletAcademy.
Myeyesarelikeawonkymixedtape.Theykeeprewindingtothesamewords.
AcceptanceLetter.
AcceptanceLetter.
AcceptanceLetter.
Viagotaccepted.Ishouldbethrilledshe’llbeoutofmyhairinafewmonths,butinstead,theacidictasteofenvyburstsinsidemymouth.
Shehaseverything.
Theparents.Themoney.Thefame.Thetalent.Mostofall—mymother’sundividedattention.
Shehaseverything,andIhavenothing,andtheHulkinsidemegrowslarger.Hisbodysohugeitpressesagainstmydiaphragm.
Awholenewlifeinoneenvelope.Via’slifehangingbyapaper.Apaperthat’sinmyhand.
“Sweetie?Honey?”ThebaristasnapsmeoutofmytrancewithatonethatsuggestsI’mnotasweetienorahoney.“Whatwouldyoulike?”
ForViatodie.
IplacemyorderandshuffletothecorneroftheroomsoIcanreadtheletterforthethousandthtime.Asifthewordswillchangebysomemiracle.
Fiveminuteslater,Itakebothdrinksandexitontothesidewalk.IdarttothenearesttrashcantodisposeofmyicedtealemonadesoIcanholdtheletterwithoutdampeningit.MomprobablywantedtoopenitwithVia,andIjusttookawaytheirlittlemoment.
Sorrytointerruptyourbondingsesh.
“Putthedrinkdown,andnobodygetshurt,”boomsavoicebehindme,likeliquidhoney,asmyhandhoversoverthetrashcan.It’smale,buthe’syoung.Ispininplace,notsureIheardhimright.Hischindippedlow,Ican’tseehisfaceclearlybecauseofaRaidersballcapthat’sbeenworntodeath.He’stallandscrawny—almostscarilyso—butheglidestowardmelikeaBengaltiger.Asifhe’sfoundawaytowalkonairandcan’tbebotheredwithmundanethingslikemuscletone.
“Arewethrowingthisaway?”Hepointsatthelemonade.
We?Bitch,atthispoint,there’snotevenayoutome.
Imotiontohimwiththedrink.Hecanhavethestupidicedtealemonade.Gosh.Heisinterruptingmymeltdownforalemonade.
“Nothing’sfreeinthisworld,SkullEyes.”
Iblink,willinghimtoevaporatefrommyvision.DidthisjackassreallyjustcallmeSkullEyes?AtleastIdon’tlooklikeaskeleton.MymindisupstairswithVia.WhydoesMomreceivelettersonherbehalf?Whycouldn’ttheysenditdirectlytoVia’shouse?IsMomadoptingherassnow?
Ithinkaboutmysister,Bailey.Atonlynine,shealreadyshowspromiseasagifteddancer.ViamovingtoLondonmightencourageMomtoputBaileyintheRoyalBalletAcademy,too.MomhadtalkedaboutmeapplyingtherebeforeitbecameclearthatIcouldbeaPanerabagelbeforeI’dbecomeaprofessionalballerina.Ibegintogluethepiecesofmyscrewed-uprealitytogether.
WhatifIhadtomigratetoLondontowatchbothgirlsmakeitbigwhileIswaminmypoolofmediocrity?
BaileyandViawouldbecomeBFFs.
I’dhavetolivesomewhererainyandgray.
We’dleaveVaughnandKnightandevenLunabehind.Allmychildhoodfriends.
ViawouldofficiallytakemyplaceinMom’sheart.
Hmm,nothanks.
Nottoday,Satan.
WhenIdon’tanswer,theboytakesasteptowardme.I’mnotscaredalthough…maybeIshouldbe?He’swearingdirtyjeans—I’mtalkingmudanddust,not,like,purposelyhaphazard—andawornblueshirtthatlookstwosizestoobigwithaholethesizeofasmallfistwherehisheartis.SomeonewrotearounditinablackSharpieandgirliehandwriting,Isitasign?—Adriana,xoxoandIwanttoknowifAdrianaisprettierthanme.
“WhyareyoucallingmeSkullEyes?”Iclenchtheletterinmyfist.
“Because.”HeslopeshisheadsolowallIcanseearehislips,andtheylookpetal-softandpink.Feminine,almost.Hisvoiceissmoothtoapointithurtsalittleinmychest.Idon’tknowwhy.Guysmyagearerevoltingtome.Theysmelllikepizzathathassatinthesunfordays.“Youhaveskullsinyoureyes,SillyBilly.Knowwhatyouneed?”
ForMomtostoptellingmethatIsuck?
ForViatodisappear?
Takeyourpick,dude.
Ishovemyfreehandintomymom’swalletandpluckoutaten-dollarbill.Helooksasifhecoulduseameal.Iprayhe’lltakeitbeforeMomcomesdownandstartsaskingquestions.I’mnotsupposedtotalktostrangers,muchlessstrangerswholookliketheyaredumpsterdivingfortheirnextmeal.
“Seaglass.”Hethrustshishandinmydirection,ignoringthemoneyandthedrink.
“LikethestuffyougetonEtsy?”Ihuff.
Great.You’reaweirdo,too.
“Huh?Nah,thatshit’strash.Orangeseaglass.Therealstuff.FounditonthebeachlastweekandGoogledit.It’stherarestthingintheworld,youknow?”
“Whywouldyougiveatotalstrangersomethingsoprecious?”Irollmyeyes.
“Whynot?”
“Um,hello,attentionspanmuch?Weren’tyoutheonewhojustsaidnothinginthisworldisfree?”
“Whosaidit’sfree?Didyougetallyourannualperiodstodayatonceorsomething?”
“Don’ttalkaboutmyperiod!”
“Fine.Noperiodtalk.Butyouneedarealfriendrightnow,andI’mofficiallyapplyingfortheposition.Ievendressedthepart.Look.”Hemotionstohishoboclotheswithanapologeticsmile.
Andjustlikethat,heatpoursintomychestlikehotwax.Anger,Ifind,hasthetendencytobecrisp.Ireallywanttothroatpunchhim.Hepitiesme?Pities.Theguywiththeholeinhisshirt.
“Youwanttobemyfriend?”Ibarkoutalaugh.“Patheticmuch?Like,whoevensaysthat?”
“Me.Isaythat.AndIneverclaimednottobepathetic.”Hetugsathisrippedshirtandraiseshisheadslowly,unveilingmoreofhisface.AnosemymomwouldcallRomanandajawthat’stoosquareforsomeonemyage.He’sallsharpangles,andmaybeonedayhewillbehandsome,butrightnow,helookslikeananimecartooncharacter.MightyMax
“Look,doyouwantthelemonadeandmoneyornot?Mymomshouldbehereanyminute.”
“And?”
“Andshecan’tseeustogether.”
“BecauseofhowIlook?”
Duh.
“No,becauseyou’reaboy.”Idon’twanttobemeantohimeventhough,usually,Iam.Especiallytoboys.Especiallytoboyswithbeautifulfacesandhoneyvoices.
Boyscansmellheartbreakfromacrossacontinent.Evenatfourteen.Eveninthemiddleofaninnocentsummerafternoon.Wegirlshaveaninvisiblestringbehindourbellybutton,andonlycertainguyscantugatit.
Thisboy…hewillsnapitifIlethim.
“Taketheseaglass.Owemesomething.”Hemotionstomewithanopenpalm.Istareattheuglylittlerock.Myfistclenchesaroundtheletter.Thepaperhisses.
Theboyliftshisheadcompletely,andoureyesmeet.HestudiesmewithquietinterestasthoughI’mapainting,notaperson.Myheartisriotingallover,andthedumbestthoughtcrossesmymind.Evernoticehowtheheartisliterallycagedbytheribs?That’sinsane.Asifourbodyknowsitcanbreaksoeasily,itneedstobeprotected.Whitedotsfillmyvision,andhe’sswimmingsomewherebehindthem,againstthestream.
“What’sintheletter?”heasks.
“Myworstnightmare.”
“Giveittome,”heorders,soIdo.Idon’tknowwhy.MostlikelybecauseIwanttogetridofit.BecauseIwantViatohurtasmuchasIdo.BecauseIwantMomtobeupset.Marx,what’swrongwithme?I’mahorribleperson.
Hiseyesarestillonmineashetearsthelettertoshredsandletsthepiecesfloatlikeconfettiintothetrashcanbetweenus.Hiseyesaredarkgreenandbottomlesslikeathicklyfoggedforest.IwanttostepinsideandrununtilI’minthedepthofthewoods.Somethingoccurstomejustthen.
“You’renotfromhere,”Isay.Heistoopure.Toogood.Tooreal.
Heshakeshisheadslowly.“Mississippi.Well,mydad’sfamily.Anyway.Owemesomething,”herepeats,almostbegging.
Whydoeshewantmetoowehimsomething?
Sohecouldaskforsomethingback.
Idon’trelent,frozentomyspot.Instead,Ihandhimthelemonade.Hetakesit,closesthedistancebetweenus,popsthelidopen,andpoursthecontentsallovertheruinedletter.Hisbodybrushesagainstmine.We’restomachtostomach.Legstolegs.Hearttoheart.
“Closeyoureyes.”
Hisvoiceisgruffandthickanddifferent.Thistime,Isurrender.
Iknowwhat’sabouttohappen,andI’mlettingithappenanyway.
Myfirstkiss.
IalwaysthoughtitwouldhappenwithafootballplayerorapopstaroraEuropeanexchangestudent.Someoneoutsideofthesmallbordersofmysheltered,Instagram-filteredworld.Notwithakidwhohasaholeinhisshirt.ButIneedthis.Needtofeeldesiredandprettyandwanted.
Hislipsflutterovermine,andittickles,soIsnort.Icanfeelhiswarmbreathskatingacrossmylips,hisbaseballcapgrazingmyforeheadandthewayhismouthslidesagainstmine,lipslockingwithuncertainty.Iforgettobreatheforasecond,myhandsonhisshoulders,butthensomethinginsidemebegsmetodartmytongueoutandreallytastehim.We’resuckingairfromeachother’smouths.We’redoingitallwrong.Mylipsopenforhim.Hisopen,too.MyheartispoundingsohardIcanfeelthebloodwhooshinginmyveinswhenhesays,“Notyet.I’lltakethat,too,butnotyet.”
Agroanescapesmylips.
“WhatwouldyouhaveaskedofmeifItooktheseaglass?”
“Tosavemeallyourfirsts,”hewhisperssomewherebetweenmyearandmouthashisbodybrushesawayfrommine.
Idon’twanttoopenmyeyesandletthemomentend.Buthemakesthechoiceforbothofus.Thewarmthofhisbodyleavesmineashetakesastepback.
Istilldon’thavethegutstoopenmymouthandaskforhisname.
Ten,fifteen,twentysecondspass.
Myeyelidsflutteropenontheirownaccordasmybodybeginstosway.
He’sgone.
Disoriented,Ileanagainstthetrashcan,fiddlingwiththestrapofmymother’sbag.FivesecondspassbeforeMomloopsherarmaroundmineoutofnowhereandleadsmetotheRangeRover.Mylegsflyacrossthepavement.Myheadtwistsback.
Blueshirt?Ballcap?Petallips?DidIimaginethewholething?
“Thereyouare.Thanksforthecoffee.What,noicedtealemonadetoday?”
AfterIfailtoanswer,weclimbintohervehicleandbuckleup.MomsiftsthroughherPradabagrestingonthecenterconsole.
“Huh.IswearItookfourlettersfromthemailboxtoday,notthree.”
Andthat’swhenithitsme—shedoesn’tknow.Viagotin,andshehasnoideathelettercametoday.Thenthisguytoreitapartbecauseitupsetme…
Kismet.Kiss-met.Fate.
Daddecidedtwoyearsagothathewastiredofhearingallthreegirlsinthehouseholdmoaning,“Oh,myGod,”sonowwehavetoreplacethewordGodwiththewordMarx,afterKarlMarx,adudewhowasapparentlyintoatheismorwhatever.IfeellikeGodorMarx—someone—sentthisboytohelpme.Ifhewereevenreal.MaybeImadehimupinmyheadtocometotermswithwhatIdid.
Iopenacompactmirrorandapplysomelipgloss,myheartracing.
“You’realwaysdistracted,Mom.Ifyoudroppedaletter,you’dhaveseenit.”
Mompouts,thennods.Intheminuteittakeshertostarttheengine,Irealizetwothings:
One—shewasexpectingthisletterlikehernextbreath.
Two—sheisdevastated.
“BeforeIforget,Lovebug,Iboughtyouthediaryyouwanted.”Momproducesathickblack-casedleathernotebookfromherPradabagandhandsittome.Inoticeditbefore,butIneverassumethingsareformeanymore.She’salwaysdistracted,buyingViaalltypesofgifts.
Aswerideinsilence,Ihaveanepiphany.
ThisiswhereI’llwritemysins.
ThisiswhereI’llburymytragedies.
Isnapthemirrorshutandtuckmyhandsintothepocketsofmywhitehoodie,whereIfindsomethingsmallandhard.Itakeitoutandstareatit,amazed.
Theorangeseaglass.
HegavemetheseaglasseventhoughIneveracceptedit.
Savemeallyourfirsts.
Iclosemyeyesandletafattearrolldownmycheek.
Hewasreal.

Question:Whogivestheirmostpreciousbelongingtoagirltheydon’tknow?
Answer:Thismotherfuckerrighthere.Printmean“I’mwithstupid”shirtwithanarrowpointingstraighttomydick.
Could’vesoldthedamnthingandtoppedoffVia’scellphonecredit.Nowthatship’ssailed.Icanspotitinthedistance,sinkingquickly.
TheworstpartisthatIknewnothingwouldcomeoutofit.Atfourteen,I’veonlykissedtwogirls.Theybothhadenormoustonguesandtoomuchsaliva.Thisgirllookedlikehertonguewouldbesmall,soIcouldn’tpassuptrying.
Buttheminutemylipstouchedhers,Ijustcouldn’tdoit.Shelookedkindofmanic.Sad.Clingy?Idon’tfuckingknow.MaybeIjustdidn’thavetheballs.Maybewatchingherthreetimesaweekfromafarparalyzedme.
Hey,howdoyouturnoffyourownmind?Itneedstoshutup.Now.
MyfriendKannonpassesmethejointonmyfrontporch.That’stheoneperkofhavingyourmomlivewithherdrug-dealingboyfriend.Freepot.Andsincefoodisscarcethesedays,I’lltakewhateverisonthetable.
AbunchofwannabegangstersinredbandanascrossoursideofthestreetwiththeirpitbullsandaboomboxplayingangrySpanishrap.Thedogsbark,yankingontheirchains.Kannonbarksrightbackatthem.He’ssohighhisheadmighthitafuckingplane.Itakeahit,thenhandCamilothejoint.
“I’lllendyoufiftysoyoucanmakethecall.”Camilocoughs.Heishugeandtanandalreadyhasimpressivefacialhair.Helookslikesomeone’sMexicandad.
“Wedon’tneedtocallanyone!”mytwinsisteryellsfromthegrassnexttous.Sheislyingfacedown,sobbingintotheyellowlawn.Ithinksheishopingthesunwillburnherintotheground.
“Arey’alldeaforsomething?!Ididn’tgetin!”
“We’lltakethemoney.”Iignoreher.Wehavetocalltheballetplace.Viacan’tstayhere.Itain’tsafe.
“Iloveyou,Penn,butyou’reapainintheass.”Shehiccups,pluckingbladesofgrassandthrowingtheminourdirectionwithoutliftingherhead.She’llthankmelater.Whensheisfamousandrich—doballerinasgetrich?—andI’mstillsittingherewithmydumbfriendssmokingpotandsalivatingoverlemon-hairedTodosSantosgirls.MaybeIwon’thavetostandonstreetcornersanddeal.I’mgoodatshit.Sportsandfightingmainly.CoachsaysIneedtoeatmoreproteinformuscleandmorecarbstogetsomebodyfat,butthat’snothappeninganytimesoonbecausemostofmymoneyisspentbuyingVia’sbusticketstoherballetclasses.
ItagalongbecauseI’mhellaworriedaboutherridingonthatbusalone.Especiallyinwinterwhenitgetsdarkearly.
“Ithoughtyousaidyoursister’sgood?Howcomeshedidn’tgetin?”Kannonyawns,movinghishandoverhislongdreads.Thesidesofhisheadareshaved,creatingablackman-bun.Ipunchhisarmsohardhecollapsesbackontherockingchairwithasilentscream,clutchinghisbicep,stillhardy-har-harring.
“Ithinkademonstrationisinorder.Chop-chop,Via.Showusyourmoves.”Camputs“Milkshake”byKelisonhisphone,ballingagumwrapperinhishandandthrowingitatthebackofherhead.
Hersobsstop,replacedwithcatatonicsilence.Iturnaround,scrubbingmychinbeforetwistingbacktoCamiloandswingingafistathisjaw.Ihearitunlockfromitsusualplaceandhimharrumphing
Dartingupfromthegrass,Viarunsintothehouseandslamsthedoorbehindher.I’mnotsurewhatbusinessshehassittinginthelivingroomwhenRhettishome,gripingaboutbeingtiredandhungry.Shewillprobablygetintoascreamingmatchwithhimandreturntotheporchwithhertailbetweenherlegs.Mymomistoohightointerfere,butevenwhenshedoes,shechoosesherboyfriend’sside.EvenwhenheusesVia’sleotards,whichherteacherbuysforher,toshinehisshoes.Hedoesthatoftentogetariseoutofher.Ondayssheshowsuptoclassinhertornleggingsandhand-me-downshirts,shespendsthebusridesobbing.ThoseareusuallythedayswhenIrubhisbriefsonthepublictoiletseatsinLibertyPark.
It’sincrediblytherapeutic.
“Handmethefifty.”IopenmypalmandturntoCam,whoslapsthebillintomyhandobediently.I’mgoingtobuymyselfandViaburgersthesizeofmyface,thentopthecreditonherphonesoshecancallMrs.Followhill.
IchargedownmystreettoIn-N-Out,CamiloandKannontrailingmelikethewind.Crackedconcreteandmuralsofdeadteenagerswearinghaloslinethestreet.Ourpalmtreesseemtohunchdownfromtheburdenofpoverty,leaningoverbuildingsthatareshortandyellowlikebadteeth.
Buttwentyminuteslater,thesatisfactionofclutchingapaperbagfilledwithgreasyburgersandfriesisoverwhelming.Via’sgonnaforgetallabouthermeltdownwhensheseesit.Ipushthedoortomyhouseopen,andthefirstthingIseemakesmedropthefoodtothefloor.
Mymother’sboyfriendisstraddlingmysisteronthecouch,hisjigglingbellypouringoutonherchest.Hepummelsherface,hissweaty,hairychestglisteningandhisarmflexingeverytimehedoes.Hisrippedjeansareunbuttoned,andhiszipperisallthewaydown.Sheiswheezingandcoughing,tryingtobreathe.Withoutthinking,Idashtowardthemandunplasterhimfromher.Herfaceisbloody,andshe’scroakingoutweakprotests,tellinghimthathe’sacheapbastard,andhekeepsyellingthatsheisathievingwhore.IgrabRhettbythecollarofhisshirtandpullhimfromher.Heswingswiththemomentum,fallingonthefloor.Ipunchhisfacesohard,thesoundofhisjawcrackingechoesaroundtheroom.Hewhipshisheadback,hittingthefloor.IspinbacktoVia,andallIseeisherbackassheslidesthroughherownblood,trippingtothedoor.Igrabherwrist,butshewigglesfree.Somethingfallsbetweenuswithasoftclick.Ipickitup,anditlookslikeatooth.JesusfuckingChrist.Heknockedhertoothout.
“I’msorry,”shesays,hervoicemuffledfromthebloodinhermouth.“I’msorry.Ican’t,Penn.”
“Via!”Icryout.
“Please,”sheyells.“Letmego.”
Itrytochaseher,slippinginthetrailofbloodsheleavesbehind.Myhandsarecoveredinitnow.Istandandstartforthestill-opendoor.Ahandsnatchesmebackandthrowsmeonthecouch.
“Notsoquick,littleasshole.Now’syourturn.”
Iclosemyeyesandletithappen,knowingwhyViahastorun.
Geographyisdestiny.

It’sbeenthreedayssinceViaranaway.
TwoandahalfsinceI’velastmanagedtostomachanythingwithoutthrowingitup(Pabstcounts,right?).
AfterRhettbeatherupforstealinghisphoneandtryingtocallLondon,I’mnotsurprisedsheain’tback.IknowbetterthantofuckwithRhett.Viaisusuallyevenmorecautiouswithhimbecauseshe’sagirl.Itwasamomentofweaknessonherpart,anditcosthermorethanshewaswillingtopay.
OnFridayafternoon,Ifindmyselfloiteringoutsideherballetclass,hopingshe’llappear.Maybeshe’scrashingatherteacher’shouse.Theyseemclose,butit’shardtotellsinceViaputsonamaskeverytimethebusweboardslidesintothecitylimitsofTodosSantos.Thefactshehasn’ttouchedbaseyetmakesmeheavewhenIthinkaboutit.I’mtellingmyselfshehasherreasons.
Atsix,pink-wearinggirlsstartpouringoutofthebuilding.IdawdlebytheshinyblackRangeRoverwithmyhandsinmypockets,waitingfortheteacher.Shecomesoutlast,wavingandlaughingwithabunchofstudents.Anothergirlwalksbesideher.ThegirlIkissed,tobeexact.ThegirlI’vebeenobsessingoverforayear,tobesuper-exact.Sheisbeautifulliketheshithanginginthemuseums.Inareallysad,distant,look-but-don’t-touchway.Itrektowardthem,andtheymeetmehalfway.Thegirl’seyeswiden,andshelookssidewaystoseeifanyoneelseisheretowitnessustalking.ShethinksI’mhereforher.
“Hi.”Shetuckshairbehindherears,hergazetravelingtoMrs.FollowhillinasilentI-swear-I-don’t-know-this-guyplea.
“Hey.”Ikillthebutterfliesinmystomachbecausenow’snottheplaceanddefinitelynotthetime,thenturntotheteacher.“Ma’am,mysister,Via,isinyourclass.Ihaven’tseenherinthreedays.”
Theteacher’seyebrowspinchtogetherasthoughIjustannouncedI’llbetakingashitonthehoodofhervehicle.ShetellstheblondetowaitinsidethegiantRangeRover,thentugsatmyarm,headingtowardanalleyway.Sandwichedbetweentwobuildings,shesortofforcesmetositdownonatallstep(dafuq?)andstartstalking.
“I’vebeencallingherfivetimesadayandleavingmessages,”shewhispershotlyinmyface.“Iwantedtoletherknowshe’dbeenacceptedtotheRoyalAcademy.Whentheletterneverarrived,Icalledthemtocheck.Everythingisinmotionnow.AsIsaidbefore,youneedn’tworryaboutthetuition.I’llbepayingthefee.”
Mynostrilsflare.Allthisinherfuture,andshecouldbelyinginaditchrightnow.GoddamnVia.Goddamnallpretty,volatilefourteen-year-oldgirls.
“Well,ma’am,thankyouforthegiftshe’llneverbeabletocashinonsincewecan’tfindher,”Irespectfullymockher.Butweisjustme.Momisoutofit—sheneverreallybotheredbouncingoutofherfirstdrugbingesomeyearsago—andRhettisprobablyhappyhehasonelessmouthtofeed.Whenthetruancyofficercalledfromschoolearlier,ItoldhimViawenttomyaunt’s,somethingmymotherlaterconfirmedwhenheshoweduponourdoorstep.Mom,wild-hairedandsuckingonacigaretteasifitwereanoxygenmask,neveronceaskedifitwastrue.IfIcallthepolice,they’lldumpbothourassesinfostercare.Maybetogether,butprobablynot.Ican’tletthathappen.Ican’tbeseparatedfromVia.
Mrs.Followhillstaresatmewithanexpressionasifshejustrealizedshecaughtastomachbug.SheisprobablywonderinghowIdarespeaktoherlikethat.Usually,I’mabitmoreuser-friendly.Thenagain,Idon’tusuallyhavetodealwithamissingsister.Icleanmymother’spukefromthewallsandclosethebathroomdooronRhettwhenhefallsasleeponthetoiletseat.Idon’tlookatgrown-upswiththesameairofreverenceherdaughterdoes.
“Whoa.”That’sallMrs.Followhillsays.
“Thanksfortheinsight.Haveanicelife.”Istandandswaggertowardthestreet.Shecatchesmyarmandyanksmeback.Itwistaroundtofaceher.
“Mydaughter…”Shelicksherlips,thenlooksdown,looksguilty.ThegirlisleaningagainsttheRover,staringatus,chewingonherthumbnail.“MydaughterandViahaven’tbeengettingalong.Itriedtoencouragethemtocommunicate,butthemoreIpushedthemtogether,themoretheyseemedtodislikeoneanother.IthinkIhadalettergomissinglastweek.Aletterthatcouldhavebeen…important.Idon’tevenknowwhyI’mtellingyouthis.”Sheletsoutabreath,shakingherhead.“IguessIjust…Idon’twanttoknow,youknow?Ihatethefactthatmymindisevengoingthere.”
Butmaybeitshould.
Theflashbackcrashesintomymemory.
Thepaperthathissedinherlittlefist.
Metakingitfromher.
Tearingitapart.
Throwingitintothetrashcan,watchingherfaceblossomintobliss.
Pouringthelemonadeontheremainsforgoodmeasurewhenherblueeyestwinkledtherequest.
Settingmysister’sdreamsonfire.
Kickingthisentirenightmareintomotion.
Myjawflexes,andItakeastepback.Ithrowonelastglanceatthechick,filingherintomemory.
Archiveunder:ShitList.
Revisitdocument:WhenI’mabletoruinher.
“SoVia’snotwithyou?”Myvoicehardensaroundthewords.Liketin.I’mdesperate.Ihavenolead.Iwanttoriptheworldaparttofindher,buttheworldisnotminetodestroy.Theworldjustcontinuesturningatthesamepace,becausekidslikeViaandme?Wedisappearallthetime,andnoonenotices.
Mrs.Followhillshakesherhead.Shehesitates,touchingmyarm.“Hey,whydon’tyoucomewithme?I’lldropDariaoffathome,andwecanlookforher.”
Daria.
Iturnaroundandstalktowardthebusstop,feelingstupidandhatefulandalive.MorealivethanI’veeverfelt.BecauseIwanttokillDaria.DariamadeeverythingfadeintothebackgroundthefirsttimeIsawher,andwhileIwasbusyadmiring,everythingaroundusburned.
Youlooklikeyoucoulduseafriend,Itoldher.Stupidboyishfaith.Imentallythrowitontothegroundandstomponitonmywaytothebusasitslidestothecurb.
Dariawasright.Iwaspathetic.Stupid.Blindedbyherhairandlipsandsweetmelancholy.
Makingabeelinetothebusstop,IhearMrs.Followhillyellingmynamebehindmeinthedistance.Sheknowsmyname.Sheknowsme.Us.Idon’tknowwhyitdisturbsme.Idon’tknowwhyIstillgiveafuckthatthisgirlknowsI’mpoor.
Ihoponthefirstavailablebus,notsurewhereitwilltakeme.
Asfarawayfromthegirl,butnotfarenoughfrommyself.
Theburninmychestintensifies,theholearoundmyheartgrowingbigger,andmygrandmotherwhispersinthebackofmymind.
SkullEyes.

GetPrettyRecklesshere!

L.J. Shen.The Monster

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