Chapter 31
DANCING WITH TWO DEVILS
Iget right drunk that night. And all by myself, for that matter. I don’t trust anyone except the cozy feline curled around my feet at the end of the chaise lounge.
It doesn’t matter whether I am here or in the upper half of the country. Nobody has been completely truthful with me. Even as my phone rings nonstop, most likely Lollie or Ashton, I replay all the facts over and over in my head, trying to make sense of things I may never fully understand.
Who is this other promised, and why do I feel a tug in my heart when I think about her? It’s an ache that has been there all along perhaps, and I am just noticing it now. Crawling out of my subconscious like something unwelcome, but persistent. Is she somewhere out there in human form like me?
I know that both Ry and Que have played their fair share of destructive parts in all of my lives, but perhaps I had just as much to do with those events.
My heart being only confused because of how Ry conflicts with the version I knew before I put the ring on.
I must move past that. See him for what he is. So many parts good, but so much bad.
He lied to me. Broke my mind and my body.
Even now, his intensity portrays care—written on both our souls, whether or not we admit it.
Our story, written over and over in the human world, but rooted in the realms beneath the earth.
Does that make it less genuine or, in fact, more?
I know I can choose what it means to me.
Then there is Que. His vulnerability in the basement. All the time we spent together in past lives that have only now resurfaced in my memories. He’s both friend and villain, depending on where you stand.
He is hurting just as we all are. And maybe even more so. If he found his promised, would he act the way Ry does with me? And all these important people in my life that I am just learning again who they really are to me. Who are they all truly?
It is with that thought that my eyes get heavy from the third cherry brandy I poured myself before I crawled into the long chair with Carya. The chaise that reminds me of the one Cher laid on under the moonlight in France, because it probably is.
My eyes close completely, and I am greeted by the box that holds two rings—meant to hold two stones. One is the one I currently wear on my finger—customized with hickory leaves and thistle thorns that I now know were made to pierce my skin. A rather morbid addition made so Ry can always find me.
The other is of a beautiful moonlit stone. I am no expert in rare gems, but if the moon were to be splashed with the waves from the ocean on a clear star-filled night, then this ring would capture it perfectly.
I watch as the jade ring is placed on my finger, pinching from the small thorns puncturing my skin. Is true love meant to hurt like this? I hear a small voice saying in my mind. My voice.
And another. But what is love without pain? Is it truly interesting if it doesn’t hurt a little? A male voice now, brimming with darkness.
It is Ry, but as I look up my eyes meet the moonlit acorn ones of Que.
He spins me around in my dream. I am floating, and when I spin to meet him again, Ry is back in his place.
And that is how the dream continues, on and on.
One man becoming the other. I don’t know what it means—only that I keep dancing. Dancing with two devils.