the night seems so endless and bleak? That endlessness, it suits the situation. A gentle pink blush does not.
“Hey.” Vic grabs my chin, but I tear my face away from him, turning away to stare down the street, at a perfect row of suburban houses lined up like toys, dollhouses for people crafted of plastic dreams. I don't belong anywhere near here, not by a long shot. Aaron's dream of seeing me reach for the stars, like some sort of bullshit poster on the wall of an elementary school classroom, it was never going to happen for me. Even if I didn't have Heather to worry about. Even if I didn't drink darkness and sip pain. “He'll be okay, Bernie.”
“Yeah, but that doesn't mean we didn't kill a kid tonight,” I say, turning back to look at Vic. He just stands there, a mountain of muscle and immorality, and smiles tightly at me.
“What happens on All Hallows’ Eve, stays on All Hallows' Eve. Don't bring it up again.” He starts to move past me, but then grabs my face and presses a scalding kiss to my lips that has me thinking all sorts of depraved thoughts that don't belong in the middle of a crisis, thoughts that pertain to naked flesh and hungry mouths and roving hands. “That's not a request.”
Vic lets go of me and slips into the driver's side of the van. I hesitate only briefly before climbing in to join him.
I don't remember falling asleep, but I'm just grateful that I wake up with zero nightmares. All I can figure is that I was just too fucking tired to have them. When I crack my lids, I find Aaron staring back at me, sitting propped up in the king bed in his parents' old bedroom. Vic is on my other side, his breathing deep enough that I can tell he's still asleep.
“You're awake,” Aaron says softly, and I cock a brow, pushing myself up into a sitting position.
“Shouldn't I be the one saying that?” I reply, pushing white-blonde hair over my shoulder. The pink at the ends is starting to fade; time to re-dye it. I wonder if I should choose another color? But no, Penelope's favorite color was pink. I wet my lips and scoot a bit closer to Aaron, until our shoulders are so close that one deep breath would press our bare skin together. “How are you feeling?”
Aaron scoffs a laugh and shakes his head, cringing a bit as he reaches up a hand to press against the bandage on his left shoulder.
“Like I got run over by a fucking truck,” he says, cocking a smile that reminds me of the ones we used to share on bright, sunshine-y days, back when life didn't feel quite so … desperate. That's the only way I can think to describe the way I feel right now, desperate.
The Thing was here last night. Kali was here. Principal Vaughn was here.
Callum killed Danny Ensbrook.
Shit.
You're not in this alone, I remind myself, looking up and catching Aaron's green-gold gaze. Havoc Girl. Not Havoc’s girl. We might be in hell, but we're burning together.
“I thought you might die last night,” I whisper, without even meaning to. Emotion catches in my throat, surprising me. With Vic on one side, and Aaron on the other … the numbness inside of me feels like it's been shattered, like I'm being cut apart with every thought, every feeling. I'm bleeding profusely, and I don't know how to stop it. Unlike with Aaron's wound, there are no transfusions for the emotionally repressed, no IV doses of happiness or clarity or mental wellness.
“Yeah?” Aaron asks, shirtless and covered in tattoos, beautiful and broken. I want to reach out and touch him, but I don't dare. There might only be inches between us physically, but emotionally, there are miles. “And how did you feel about that?”
I snort and shake my head.
“Don't ask stupid questions, Aaron Fadler. They don't suit you.” We both pause as a soft, little knock sounds at the door.
“Bernie?” Heather calls out. “We're hungry, and there's cereal but no milk.”
Aaron and I exchange a look, and he grins.
My heart stutters in my chest and I know I'm balancing on a dangerous precipice here, one where I forgive Aaron for the things he did to me, where I find myself slipping into a routine as warm and familiar as any I've ever had in my life. Aaron and I were good together, but we were