dug up a dead Prescott High student. And yet, compared to how I felt the day Pen died, this is nothing. I feel lighter than I ever have, like I’ve finally shed the gossamer strands of society, this glittering web of who I should’ve been, who I could still be, if only I’d run and let my monsters walk.
But oh no, I am much more vindictive than that.
“Maybe I do, Victor? So what. Sex is all about expression. You know how I feel about Havoc.”
He takes a step toward me. It’s dark in here, with just the two lamps on, casting a dull orange glow across the worn hardwood floors and old rugs that decorate them.
“How do you feel, Bernadette?” Vic asks, tilting his head slightly. “Why don’t you say it aloud?”
I close my eyes and Vic skims his palms down my bare arms, taking my heated skin and cooling it down, like a pleasant breeze, like the sweet kiss of AC on a summer night. My head clears; my numbness flees.
Sometimes, when you meet someone, you just know they’re going to change your fate. For better or worse. I think about saying those words as part of my vows to Vic, and they feel right. They don’t feel fake or forced, like a charlatan wedding for a sea of thespians.
“This is where I belong, Vic,” I say, opening my eyes back up. He stares down at me from ebon irises, his big body shaking with jealous rage. I should chastise him more for it, but I don’t. I can’t help myself; I want him like this. Aching for me. Pining. Snarling. Growling. Pissing. He can go all alpha on me if he wants, and I won’t stop him. “I’ve always belonged with the five of you.”
His mouth twitches, and he reaches up a big hand, using inked fingers to tuck pink-tinged hair behind my ear.
“My beautiful nightmare,” he confirms, running his thumb over my lower lip. “After we get married, I’m not sharing you. Get your fucking out of the way before then.” Vic drops his hand by his side, and I frown. I’m not sure I agree with that statement, but I also feel like I can’t possibly say anything, not right now. He’ll throw a man-trum and break the magic of the evening.
“Do you want to take these pregnancy tests with me?” I ask, choking on the courage needed to say those words. “I mean, while we wait for Hael to call us and say he’s still alive.”
Vic’s face darkens up, but it’s not without kindness.
“Pregnancy tests?” he asks, almost too mildly. My skin erupts in goose bumps. Those syllables spilling from those poison-tinged lips of his, they’re loaded. “I didn’t know you’d bought any.”
“Well,” I start, giving him a look. “You keep fucking me without using one. What did you expect to happen?” Victor smiles slightly as I move over to the brown paper bag on the small sofa table that’s pressed up against the wall. I take the boxes from it and pop into the downstairs bathroom, reading the instructions as Victor watches me from the doorway.
There’s a nightlight in the little downstairs half-bath, shaped like a full moon with little grayed out spots that are supposed to be craters. It’s cute, and it casts enough light for me to take a piss and set the stupid white sticks out on the counter.
I fix my pants, wash my hands, and then cross my arms over my chest to wait.
“They only take a few minutes, Bern,” Vic says after a while, watching me with heavy lidded eyes. He’d probably love it if I were pregnant. He doesn’t say as much, but it’d be impossible to miss, with the expression on his face.
“You check them,” I tell him, but when he reaches out a hand to grab one, I snatch his wrist, fingers curling around him and squeezing tight. I wonder if Brittany felt like this when she was taking the test, if she wished Hael were there.
Shit.
I feel like an asshole and yet, the world has only ever treated me like shit. I’ve tried to do things the right way, I really have. And how have I been rewarded for it? With molestation, suicide, and pain. That’s how.
So … fuck Brittany. And fuck Kali.
I snatch one of the tests off the counter and close my eyes tight. I can feel Victor watching me carefully, waiting with that intense and unending patience of his.
When I open my