If I thought Mystique was stunning, the woman who entered the dimly lit room of witchcraft was about to give me a run for my money. She was young, with a full hourglass figure. She resembled those old-fashioned sailor tattoos of half-naked pin-up models. Her skin was flawless. Her tight curls were untamed and free, lacking the constraints of a scarf like Mystique’s. She had smoldering dark brown eyes, much darker than Mystique’s hazel. I knew who she was before she could close the door behind her.
I should have also prepared my war stance.
She wore low-rise, baggy jeans and a white halter top that came up above the curve of her hips, revealing a pierced belly button. The smell of her vanilla and sandalwood perfume mixed with the patchouli, and I couldn’t determine if it was a brief salvation or more torture to my senses. She had a backpack slung over one shoulder as she stepped through the door, but the moment her eyes met Erich’s, she dropped it out of excitement. Like a running back sprinting in for a touchdown, she shoved me to the side to get to him, and I caught myself with one unsteady foot and an escaped grunt from the force to my chest.
With a gracefully athletic leap, she was in his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms clung to his neck, and she buried her face into his shoulder.
“You came back!” she exclaimed. I was left to watch the real-life rendition ofHomeward Bound, where the dog makes his way back home to his family after a perilous journey. Except the embrace was far from PG-rated. She was hugging him so tight I was afraid she’d kill him. He didn’t seem at all bothered, and he wasn’t gasping for air, which was good enough evidence that he wasn’t being constricted by the snake-like hug.
He was hugging her back. The knife cut deeper into my already unguarded heart.
I couldn’t read him, and I liked to think I had a good read on his subtlety after being his road trip confidant for so long. His relaxed grip on the girl’s legs as he held her close was pleased, but his thin smile was unnerving. I celebrated a small victory in my head, thinking he wasn’t nearly as excited as she was about his return.
Olivia revealed her face from Erich’s shoulder briefly, unwrapping her arms from his neck to stroke his face, then traced down his jawline to his chest. She rested her hands right beneath his collarbones, steadying herself on Erich’s arms with her legs crossed behind his back. “Are you real?” she finally asked, a seemingly serious question.
Erich’s tight smile transformed into a half-hearted smirk as his arm moved from supporting her body against his to freeing her leg from his waist. Olivia took the hint and dropped to her feet without his assistance. She gave Erich a petty jab to his shoulder as she created space between them.
“So you’re back.” Venom dripped from her lips as she crossed her arms across her chest, guarding her heart from the smooth rejection.
“For a little while,” Erich answered. His attention was on straightening his jacket and sleeves after Olivia’s assault.
“A little while is anywhere from a day to a year with you.” She spit, a snarky side-eye from the defensive pose she took in response to the assertion of distance. I likely wouldn’t stand a chance against her in a battle of insults. She’d cut me down, then have a picnic on my gravesite.
Mystique watched wearily as a neutral ally to the passing of hostile fire. Her right arm was supported by her left, her jeweled fingers brushing her chin and cheek as she tried to determine what it would take to involve herself and tear them apart by the collars of their shirts.
I can’t say I was doing much else other than watching and waiting as well.
Erich gave a half shrug, his eyes meeting mine briefly. “We’re just taking some time off.”
“Who is ‘we’?” Olivia asked. So she didn’t notice me standing there, or she was making a statement by ignoring my presence. Either way, if her intention was to have me shrink in her presence, it worked. Her gaze followed his to see me standing in the corner of the room.
Erich continued without missing a beat. “This is my friend, Camille.”
I appreciated that he didn’t say more, but I realized it was so I could introduce myself to the intimidating viper woman in front of me. There was far more to the story than I wanted to share. What would I say? “Hi, I’m Camille, and your adopted brother/ex—whatever the hell you consider him—found me on the streets after my brother raped me. What’s your trauma?” Because letting myself say that and laugh at my long-story-short introduction would’ve been inappropriate, I instead gave a grim smile and no comment.
Olivia turned to glance at me, her umber eyes narrowing underneath sharply maintained eyebrows. Was that envy in her eyes? It quickly disappeared, and irritation replaced it. “Your friend, huh? How nice.”
“Alright,” Mystique chimed in, sensing her daughter’s hostility as well. “A friend of Erich’s is a friend of ours.” She put on her warmest smile as she shuffled through the tense pair to the door. “Let me close down and we’ll figure out dinner and sleeping arrangements.”
With that, she was heading out the front door. I knew it would get interesting with the three of us and no referee.
Olivia threw her hair back as she left me to my painful existence and turned her attention back to Erich. “There’s only one spare room. Your friend can have it. You’ll have to stay with me.”
“There’s a couch.” Erich was quick to respond with a stony sidelong glance.
He must have had years of experience dealing with these kinds of arguments—But who usually won? The mind games between these two had to be a separate story altogether.
“And why would you sleep on the couch? We’ve slept in the same bed for years. Nothing’s changed. You just dropped me off back home and took off, is all.” She fired back.
“We aren’t going to sleep together.” Erich held his ground.
“Literally no reason to turn down a real bed.” I was familiar with that logic and was shocked to hear her say the same thing I had always thought to myself. She leaned on her right side, which caused her hair to bounce as she tilted her head stubbornly. “It’s not like I’m begging you to fuck me in it.”
Erich shook his head in disbelief. “Take the goddamn hint. What doesn’t make sense to you?”
“Thatyousaid it.” The volume of her voice rose as her pointer finger shot into his chest. She didn’t hesitate or stop to think what she’d say next. “What, are you so modest now that you can’t stand being in the same room as a woman? Oh, Holy Saint Erich, next fucking pope of the church now that you’ve changed so much since dropping me at my mom’s house.”
“I’m done arguing.” Erich cut her off, running his hand through his hair in annoyance. The electricity of the storm brewing between the two made me want to go out and have a cigaretteforhim.
