“He played big, lied through his teeth,” he says a little too quickly for my liking. But he’s probably confused after seeing us kiss. “To be honest? I’m surprised to see you with that guy. He’s a notorious liar, and…” Kemper stands a bit closer, exhaling smoke, “just between us? Any time I saw him at the casino, and that was often, he’d be there with a new guy. I’d keep him on a short leash if I were you.”
Heat rushes to my head, and the cigarette breaks between my fingers. I utter a curse and light a fresh one. “That… why did you watch him so closely? He’s just one of many gamblers, surely,” I say to divert Kemper’s attention from my embarrassing reaction.
“Sure, but not many of them are that big, and like to cause trouble when drunk.” He raises his palms. “I’m sorry if I’m misreading the situation, but you’re a solid guy, and I’d rather give you all I know. You can do with that what you will.”
The sour taste of disappointment crooks my lips, so I take a deep inhale of smoke and let it sit in my chest, along with the darkness Kemper has just cast on the new life I’m preparing for.
“That wasn’t what his file said. Did he really? Cause trouble, I mean.”
Kemper stalls for a second, his dark eyes settling on me like a warm hand on the shoulder. As if he’s feelingsorryfor me, and fuck, do I resent that. “His file would probably not have such minute details, since what mattered to your family was his debt. It’s not like the broken hearts he left in his wake, or the fights would have made a difference.”
The moments of vulnerability I’ve shared with Dalton are suddenly tainted with the ever-growing danger of being duped. I try not to choke on it all as I think back to the times where I’ve told him things I probably shouldn’t have. Have I misjudged Dalton? From the start, he seemed rather naive, but what if it’s only a mask I chose to accept because of how good he makes me feel?
“Broken hearts, you say?”
Kemper chuckles, but when he chokes on some smoke I can’t help a hint of satisfaction. It might not be his fault that he’s the bearer of bad news, but I resent him all the same. I know from Dalton’s Grindr that he was popular, but to have the reminder thrown in my face with the suggestion he might cheat if not kept in line? Every man passing us in the street now feels like a threat.
“He is handsome, you’ve got to give him that, so it’s hardly a surprise, right? Anyway, good luck. This is really not my business.”
A car speeds toward us down the street, and for a strange moment, I’m tempted to push Kemper off the sidewalk, straight under the wheels.
But my own actions are something I can control, so I don’t follow the deadly instinct, because it’s not Kemper’s fault I’m living this messy reality. “Give my regards to your wife.”
He smiles and gives me a short wave. “I will. You have to come over for dinner sometime.”
And he’s off, leaving me with bitterness in my gut . My paranoia rears its ugly head and now I wonder whether I should have had someone tail Dalton on the errands he was doing for my mother. For all I know, he has a high libido and could have cheated on me already.
Fuck.
I should have kept him in the basement.
All the hairs on my arms bristle when I hear Aspen’s laugh from inside, so loud and jarring I want to go inside and find out what’s going on right now. Who fucking invited him anyway? Does Mother not know I hate the kid’s guts?
But if I am to act like a reasonable person in there, I need to finish my cigarette and calm down. I’m not some impulsive troglodyte.
Chapter 20
Dalton
Idon’tfuckingbelonghere. I’m the kind of guy who gets his clothes on sale, not at a fancy tailor shop in the Garment District. This damn place has a greeter, who led me into a spacious room upstairs, which looks like Don Draper’s dream home office, with mid-century modern furniture, models of planes hung on the walls for decoration, and mannequins displaying two types of jackets in the corner.
Worst of all, Daphne hasn’t yet arrived, which means I’m stuck with Corvus’s three cousins, who eye me from the comfort of a leather sofa as if I’m a specimen of taxidermy they can put on the wall next to the deer head above them.
And as if my day hasn't been going badly enough already, I had to run into the fucker from the casino to further ruin my mood. How on earth am I supposed to be trying on shirts and assessing fabric colors when what’s-his-name is out there, potentially hitting on Corvus?
I shouldn’t care. Today, I learned how much of an asshole my fiancé is, but here I am, seething with rage and without a punching bag in sight. Were the past weeks nothing to him? I’ve never been happier,floating on cloud nine every day since we really established thisthingbetween us.
I learned how to make his favorite coffee, I can’t get enough of fucking every day, he arranged time off work for me, just so we can spend more time together, I’m getting along with his mother, and we spent New Year’s together in a way that’s impossible to describe in any other way but romantic.
Corvus took me to a fancy restaurant, then we strolled through snowy streets, I bought us fresh donuts, and I licked sugar off his fingers when he complained how sticky they got. He was so precious when he let me do it despite complaining for the entire time. I expected him to then take me someplace where we could watch the fireworks in relative peace, but when he stood in front of the gate of an old cemetery located between tenement houses, I knew this would not be a traditional kind of date.
Then again, what would betypicalwith a man like Corvus Van der Horn at my side?
Once he locked the gate behind us and we followed the path as fresh snow started falling all around us, I got the strange feeling that this was the closest I could ever be to solitude in Manhattan. Of course, Corvus held my hand, and the city around us provided enough light that there was no need for a flashlight. At night, in a green space surrounded by a fence, we had all the privacy we needed.
On a bench under a rather impressive tree that now sheltered us from the snowfall, we found a bag containing blankets, a thermos full of warm chocolate, and another one with tea. I half-expected him to play the violin for me, but I’m still waiting for that wish to come true. I didn’t ask why he picked that particular spot, but as I playedwith his fingers, cuddled up close, he told me all about the fascination with death he had since childhood. About the hunting trophies in his father’s study. The time he tried to challenge himself and took too much poison during the process of creating an immunity, and almost died.
He told me how back then he’d hallucinated about his family burying him alive, and waking up in the dark, with only a bit of air left. Apparently, he got so paranoid about this possibility that he made his father use a device that monitored Corvus’s heart in real time. In case a doctor pronounced him dead when he wasn’t. He didn’t want to speak much about his father’s death, so I didn’t pry, but the evening made me feel so close to him. We’re different, I might not understand his morbid side fully, yet he entrusted me with it.
