Goldie kisses me again and walks out not agreeing or refusing my request.
Maybe it’s a side effect of being shot in the chest, but I swear I still feel the hole there.
Dame Kiki sweeps back in, minutes after Goldie has left. “Well, I've met my share of bears, but none so big and burly as you or your brother who is currently out waiting by the stage. If I didn't have a few more performances tonight, I might just climb in one of your beds to see if it's juuust right." She nudges me and winks.
I don’t bother telling her there is only one girl I’ll ever let into my bed again.
Because whether I mean to or not, I've ensnared Goldie into my dark, tumultuous world. A predatory part of me has woken and refuses to let her go, ready to pull her even deeper into the shadows with me, where the lines between right and wrong blur when it comes to protecting my mate.
Chapter36
A Secret Admirer
GOLDIE
Thankfully I keep clean clothes and makeup in my locker at work, because I only grabbed a trench coat, throwing it over my bloody nightgown when I rushed Ted to see the Dame.
I get to the Poison Apple early enough that I can take my time in the locker room shower, cleaning off the dried red smears from my skin, unsure if they came from Ted or Eddie.
Warm water trails down my skin, rinsing away the lingering scent of blood and fear. I want it to wash away the confusion, the swirl of emotions that have been bubbling up inside me since I saw Ted rip Eddie's head off. Before then maybe, when I discovered Eddie in my house, or maybe when I realized I had a stalker breaking and entering.
But no amount of water can cleanse me from the sight of Eddie’s head separating from his body, or the belief that it wasn’t my fault.
As I step out of the shower, the quiet surrounds me like a suffocating blanket. I can't shake off the thought that I am becoming a liability, another person for Ted to protect, another source of chaos in his already heavy life.
No wonder he tried to keep me out. He has more than enough to deal with without me showing up and splashing my own problems on top like chocolate syrup on the spectacularly tragic sundae of issues he already has to contend with.
I run my fingers through my hair, wincing at the knots, and the thoughts knot tighter inside me.
Ted's fierce, almost savage need to protect me, his readiness to kill for me. It was terrifying and touching, all at once. But it was also a glaring red sign that things were spiraling far beyond my control.
Is this what love morphs into when mated with a were?I wonder, my heart sinking with the weight of my own questions.A cycle of violence and protection, one feeding the other endlessly?
As I apply makeup, my reflection in the mirror seems unfamiliar, but the longer I look the more I recognize the girl there. Someone who was too big, too loud, too much and thought she could find safety in making herself small.
At that realization, I practically dive for the boldest lipstick color in my pack. I refuse to go down that path again. Aunt Astrid’s house is where I found myself again, and I don’t intend on losing myself there this time around. The answer is not to withdraw into myself, there lies only darkness.
I slip into my work clothes. The fabric feels rough, abrasive against my skin, like a physical manifestation of the turmoil inside me. I need space, time to breathe, to understand who I am in this intertwining world of magic and grim realities.
Cinder and Snow show up while I’m restocking the bar. I deliberately make myself busy to avoid telling them what happened. They smile and say hello but Cinder seems distracted. She doesn’t quite meet my eye.
A fear spikes through me. Is she sick of me causing problems at work? I would be if I were her.
The last update I remember her sharing was that she and Lysander were planning a getaway weekend. I was such a selfish friend, I didn’t even know what was going on there. He continued to show up night after night at the bar when she worked. Neither of them are forthcoming about their feelings, much less transparent enough for the rest of us to read in on the situation.
And I’ve had too many of my own issues to dig into hers.
The bar is a whirl of activity, the neon lights casting grotesque shadows that seem to mock the growing darkness in my heart. The clinking glasses sound like warning bells, urging me to reconsider the path I'm on before I get swallowed whole.
“Hey Goldie,” Snow says at one point, “Have you heard from your jackass ex since you clocked his sorry ass face?” A glimmer of violent delight shines from her eyes.
I can already see she’s come a long way in coming into her own. It’s as if there’s more substance there than before. Like watching a ghost fill out.
It may be the qualification to be a lost girl. We were all ghosts at one time until we came to the Poison Apple.
I shake my head as I pour out another martini. “Nope. Not a peep. Which is weird.” I take in my own words. “Really weird.” Before I can elaborate, someone flags Snow for a cocktail order. But my mind is still churning.
Not only was Lawrence persistent when it came to restarting our on-again, off-again cycle, but I know the effects of my powers only added to his fervor.
