“I’ll make some more drinks.”She jumps from the couch and darts to the kitchen.
Seconds later, she returns with two glasses and a bottle of vodka.Perching on the coffee table before me, she pours the shots and hands me one.
“Is he dangerous?”I swallow the drink, savoring the smooth burn.“To us?To my family?”
“I was separated from Jag several times over the years, forced into the system, and… People died.When I was ten, I was molested by an older boy in my foster family.That night, the boy was beaten to death in his own bed.When I was eleven, another foster family roughed me up pretty good.Their house burned to the ground with them inside it.At age thirteen, I started down a long road of bad decisions regarding men, those I dated and those who didn’t takenofor an answer.Every male who put his hands on me met an untimely death.I can’t prove Jag was behind all the murders, but I know.It was always him.And if he thinks you’re interested in me, he’ll come after you, too.He’s not just smart.He’s obsessive.”
“He wants you.”I breathe out through my nose.“He’s jealous and possessive and wants you for himself.”
“Is that why he paid one of his lovers to marry me?That’s not jealous and possessive, Wolf.It’s controlling.Besides, he’s my stepbrother.”
“Stepbrother.You throw that word around like it means something.But that’s not how he looked at you last night.”
She stiffens.
“He looked at you like he wanted to eat you alive.Consume you.Like the line between rage and desire doesn’t exist for him.”I lean into her space, elbows on my knees, shot glass dangling from my fingers.“And that thing he said… Now that you’re single, he could be persuaded?”I slowly shake my head.“That wasn’t a joke, Bluebird.It was a confession wrapped in a dare.He’s not thinking like a brother.He’s thinking like a man hellbent on owning you.Body and soul.”
“You’re wrong.”She finishes her shot and pours another, avoiding my eyes.
There’s more to that response.Something dark and unresolved festers between her and Jag.A secret she’s not sharing.But I won’t push.Not tonight.I have a graveyard of my own secrets, twenty-four years deep.I’ll let her keep hers for now.Fair’s fair.
I wait for her to look at me, and when she does, I see the questions scratching their way to the surface.She wants the stories.The juicy bits of the hell I crawled out of.The greatest hits from my personal apocalypse.Maybe if she hears how bad it got for me, she’ll feel less alone in her own wreckage.Trauma roulette.Spin the wheel.Spill the damage.Pretend it makes us whole.
That’s a game I’m not interested in playing.
“What’s Gavin’s story?”I set aside my glass.
“He’s gay.I didn’t know that until an hour before our wedding.God, how can I be so stupid?”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Yes, it is.Gavin told me he had erectile dysfunction.”She holds up a finger and lets it flop like a boneless thing.“The only way he could get off was when he fucked me in the ass in the dark.”
“So specific.”
“And I was going to marry him because you know what?A nice guy is really fucking hard to find.I convinced myself that a nice guy with a limp dick was better than…”
“An asshole with a hard dick?”
“Being alone.”
“Right.”I bow my head against hers, letting our brows touch and our breaths mingle.“We’re not all terrible.Some of us are fully functional and have ten out of ten Yelp reviews.”
“I’m drawn to the worst of the worst.”
“You’re drawn tome.”I stare into her hot-honey eyes.
Her breath catches.Barely audible.But I hear it.Feel it.
I pluck the shot glass from her fingers and set it aside.Then I trail the back of my hand along her jaw, soft and slow.Deliberate.My thumb grazes her bottom lip.
“You’re dangerous.”She doesn’t pull away.
“You know I won’t hurt you.”
Lips parted and pupils wide, she presses her knees against mine as if her body pulls forward while her brain screams retreat.“You’re a terrible idea.”
“Terrible in all the best ways.That’s why you aren’t moving.”
