“You're allowed to feel however you want.”
“I just don’t understand how things got so bad, you know? I always knew he hated me, that he resented me for how our father looked at me and not him. But to do what he did?” I can’t even say it out loud, that he killed my pápa; maybe part of me doesn’t want to believe it.
“All that matters is that you’re safe. You never have to worry about him again.”
I sigh, and Cillian dips another strawberry in cream and feeds it to me.
“Stay in or go out?” he asks, and I perk up in his lap.
“Really?”
“There's no reason to keep you hidden anymore.”
“Isn’t it fucked up if I go out and have fun with all of this happening?”
He uses his thumb to collect some cream off the corner of my lip and slides it into his own mouth.
“No. I believe it would be more fucked up if you didn’t live your life because of a man who wanted to destroy yours. Go take a shower, and I’ll take you down to the casino.”
I get off his lap, using his shoulders for balance as I kiss his cheek.
“Are the others coming to join us?”
“Probably not until later. They all needed to get some rest.”
My cheeks heat, and I nod. God, I can’t imagine how tired they must be after helping me through my heat and then dealing with—I don’t want to know what they’re dealing with.
Maybe I’m dissociating when it comes to my brother and what happened after my heat. It’s easier not to dwell on it, to not feel any type of way about my brother being dead.
Acting like it didn’t happen is bliss.
Cillian grabs my hips and places his face against my stomach.
“Go take a shower and get dressed. I want to spoil my girl.”
He kisses my abdomen through the shirt I’m wearing, and I brush my hand through his dark, soft hair.
“What does that include?”
“A little birdie told me you get dazzled by slot machine lights. There’s a spa, though it would need to be a couple’s massage, or I would need to sit and supervise.”
“I don’t like the idea of anyone else touching you,” I tell him, and he breathes a sigh of relief.
“Good, ‘cause I don’t like it either. We could rent a cabana by the pool. Whatever you want, baby.”
I kiss the top of his head, and there’s a pep in my step as I make my way to the shower. I’m still achy from my heat, my muscles tight from all the positions they put me in, but it’s the best kind of ache.
There are a lot of things that have been out of my control, or weren’t my choice. I didn’t have any part in Anthony’s actions, or what he did after our father passed. I know I made some wild decisions when I ran away and worked at the High Roller. Even more unhinged choices after Finn locked me in that room.
But I feel at peace with everything now. It’s all lining up as it’s supposed to, and I’m not afraid anymore.
Maybe part of that is because Anthony is dead, and maybe I’m a terrible person for feeling relief, but despite everything, I still care. I don’t want to have remorse over someone who wouldn’t bat an eye over selling me or not caring if any harm came to me, but he was still my brother. My response to his death is confusing, and I’m not sure how to feel.
I’m choosing me, even if there is still some guilt festering inside of me.
Cillian has an app on his phone that works with the slot machines here—which is dangerous, but awesome at the same time.
He taps it against the machine as I sit down on his lap and start hitting buttons.
