eyes, I see the words Not Pregnant and my breath escapes in a rush.
“I see I’ve failed to fuck you hard enough,” is Vic’s response. I lift my eyes up from the test to glare at him. It feels suddenly weird to have him standing here, like the air between us is too thick. I’ve literally just fucked his best friend on the hood of his Camaro, in the driveway of a tame, suburban neighborhood. How weird is my goddamn life right now?
“You’d love it if I got knocked up,” I say, eyes narrowed, but Vic just shrugs.
“Maybe I would? But either way, it’s your choice to decide when.” He turns away, and I bristle at the arrogance in his words. It’s my choice to decide when?
“You mean, it’s my choice to decide if I want to be with you before I even settle the question of if I want to have kids at all. Besides, even if I did, what sort of life would this be? The world rewards the rich. We … just moved a body today. You can’t do that sort of shit if you have kids.”
“Once we get my grandmother’s inheritance,” he says, pausing to study a framed picture of Kara and Ashley on one of the side tables. It’s a newer picture, meaning Aaron must’ve put it there. Hah. Aaron Fadler and his domestic shit. It’s almost … cute. I nearly gag on the thought. “Things will be different.”
“Will they?” I ask, some of my skepticism from the last few months fading from me. Do I really think Vic is going to give me an equal share of that inheritance? Kind of … I mean, we’ll be legally married, so it’ll be mine anyway, whether he likes it or not. The thought warms me immensely. I play with the ring on my finger as I follow him down the hall and toward the master bedroom.
Victor pauses near the hallway, glancing back to look at me with obsidian eyes. He’s so impossible to read, and yet … painfully obvious at the same time. I never quite know what he’s thinking, but his wants are apparent.
Me.
I’m what Victor Channing wants.
Maybe something he’s always wanted, based on our conversation the day after Halloween.
“That much, I promise. We’re going to rule this city together, Bernadette. You and me, king and queen.” He turns away and keeps going, like he’s expecting me to follow him. I just might; I haven’t decided yet.
“I'll have no other girl,” I tell Vic, and he pauses. His back is broad beneath the dark-colored tee he’s wearing, his tattoos bright against his arms. He doesn’t look back at me, but I know he’s listening, regardless. “In Havoc, I mean. I don’t care about all the peons you managed to rope into working for you.” Victor laughs, but still, he doesn’t turn around. I wonder why? “But not … like we are now, the six of us.”
“For me, at least,” Vic starts, lifting up his right hand. I glance up to the top of the staircase and find Aaron looking down at me. I think he’s trying to say us. For us at least … “There was never another girl. Enjoy your time as a free woman because I’m counting down the nights until I fuck that wedding dress off of you.”
Victor heads into the downstairs bedroom and slams the door behind him.
I glance up at Aaron.
“It’s not fair, you know,” I tell him, frowning. “That he gets your parents’ old room, and you’re stuck living in memories of your childhood.”
“It’s fair,” Aaron says, shrugging his big shoulders. “Because he’s the boss.” His eyes darken several shades and he starts down the steps. It gets suddenly hard to breathe in that room, and my eyes stray to the Bernadette tattoo on his arm yet again.
“Watch a movie with me until Hael calls?” I ask, and Aaron nods.
We end up cuddled together on the sofa, just like in the old days, watching a horror movie that’s essentially murder porn. It seems like a weird choice, but all the bodies and the blood, I know they’re all fake. Makes it easier to pretend that what I saw earlier today was fake, too.
After several hours and two movies later, Hael finally comes crawling home.
He’s got a black eye, red smeared across the lower half of his face, like maybe he got a nosebleed and swiped the blood away with his arm.