I take it back. You’re almost charming when you’re unconscious. Almost.
The difference between your Joe and I, dearest Dany, is that I never pretended to be good for you. Do not mistake severity for doubt. I’ve always believed in you.I never bring back the forgotten. Only the unwanted.
Yours,
Luci
I read the note over again and my eyes burned, heat climbing my face, the kind that always came right before I either laughed or cried, and I didn’t want to do either.
“Almost charming.” I could practically hear the curl of his mouth onalmostand smiled. The lines underneath hit harder.Do not mistake severity for doubt.I never bring back the forgotten. Only the unwanted.The word I’d spent a lifetime wearing like a brand suddenly felt like a source of pride and belonging. Lucifer didn’t pity me. He chose me on purpose, and again.
I must have reread his letter a hundred times before I finally folded it back and held it in my clammy palms as the world shifted on its axis once more.
The difference between your Joe and I, dearest Dany, is that I never pretended to be good for you.
Not mine, though. He never really was, and I’d never really wanted him to be. I’d chased what I always felt like normal was, and that wasn’t Joe. It was an illusion of what I thought he represented.
Out of all the souls Lucifer could’ve saved, he’d chosen me. And last night…
Judas save me. Last night proved that there had been a reason for it.
A nagging voice of doubt said that it was because of what I could do for him. Killing, retrieving souls, and keeping hell fed for eternity. But what if that wasn’t the reason? What if he simply wantedme?
MY phone dinged on the night stand and blue light lit up the screen. I snatched it quickly, heart pounding and hoping to see Lucifer’s name.
There was nothing except a long list of notifications. I scrolled through, combing through promotional emails, group texts from the building manager, matches from the Farmers Only dating site and–
“Fuck me,” I whispered.
Batman.
Text Message.
Unwanted memories from our argument surfaced and soured the bliss of my afterglow.
Joe had wanted to talk about our night together; to ask about why I’d run off that morning rather than stay tangled in his pristine sheets. Mother Mary there were so many red flags waving that night that I’d failed to see. Gaslighting was only the beginning. I’d been upset because–
“Shit,” I breathed. My friends. They were missing, and I needed to see Barb.
My thumb hovered reluctantly over the message notification. I needed to text him back, and to break it off. Fuck if I didn’t want to deal with it right now, though.
I tossed the phone aside and groaned as I stood. Lucifer had left my body sore in the best of ways and, no matter how I moved, I felt the marks he left. As a bonus, only seventy-five percent of my joints popped when I hopped up and started toward the living room.
Other than the life-changing, mind-altering sex, Lucifer gave me something I could stand on: his faith in me with a deadline wrapped around it and honestly, I respected it. He set a boundary and kept it. If I put Callen in the ground, did “we can be done” become truth? Because I didn’t want done; I wanted his scent wrapped around me for whatever time immortality granted me. The only way to find out was to finish this.
As I stared at the box laying in the middle of my floor, a new spark of rage struck by determination reminded me of what I’d always known. The only person who could avenge my death was me. Lucifer had given me the tools I asked for, and it was time to use them. For me.
The night I lost my life, I’d put my trust in the words of a man and it had gotten me brutalized. Had I trusted myself, though, I would’ve never ended up in his car.
I packed up the essentials into the box and grabbed my phone from the bedroom to text Barb.
Dany: I need help. You up?
Barb: If I say no, will you fuck off?
Dany: No.
Barb: Fine. I’m up.
