Chapter 38
38
I ’m headed back to Mona’s house again tonight. She’s invited me over every night, an unspoken understanding that I shouldn’t be on my own. When my ex-husband left, I tried to handle it alone, which was a mistake. I cried for hours every night, looking at pictures of the woman he’d cheated on me with, watching videos from our honeymoon, and endlessly picking apart each moment of our marriage trying to find an answer for why he didn’t love me.
Looking back, it’s hard not to cringe at my past behavior. It wasn’t my fault that he broke our marriage. He didn’t deserve my love, and I wasn’t happy with him. Yet I beat myself up over and over, deepening the wounds on my psyche that he’d started. Wounds that I thought were healing in Blair’s arms.
Fuck. Don’t cry.
I’m not doing that this time. I’m not torturing myself, because I don’t deserve it. I never deserved it. So I’m going over to Mona’s house every night she’ll have me until I feel safe enough to be alone with my thoughts. Maybe distracting myself and not allowing myself time to think isn’t a healthy coping mechanism, but it’s got to be better than self-flagellation.
I only wish I didn’t have to be alone at all. When I’m lying in bed trying to sleep, I can’t keep the tears at bay as I torture myself with memories of Blair. There’s no one there to stop me from opening up our text history and typing out a message telling her how much I miss her and how she was wrong about what I want from her, then promptly deleting it.
I bet Mona would let me sleep at her house again if I asked. The night I showed up devastated and dealing with a bad neck flare up, she put me in her guest room and laid next to me on the bed, letting me talk to her for hours and holding my hand until the comforting weight of Nugget pressed against my side and exhaustion pushed me to sleep. I’m sure she’d be willing to snuggle me in bed again and hold my phone hostage, but I can’t ask her to do that. She’s already doing more than enough.
If my neck has taught me anything, it’s that sometimes you have to deal with pain and no amount of crying or outside help will make a difference. You have to keep going knowing even if it hurts so fucking badly that you can’t think straight. And when it’s absent, you know that reprieve is only temporary. It’s also taught me what I can endure. I’ll grit my teeth and breathe through the misery of Blair’s rejection and my love for her, even if it never gets better. I’ll find ways to distract my mind from the pain .
What else can I do?
With that cheery thought, I grab my purse and head out the door to go to Mona’s. And immediately proceed to almost trip over a small package sitting on my doormat, barely catching myself before I tumble down the stairs.
I frown down at the box, resisting the urge to kick it in retaliation. I didn’t order anything recently, so I have no clue what it could be. I bend down to pick it up and on closer inspection, there’s no shipping label or indication of what’s inside.
“What the hell?” I mutter, using my house key to cut through the packing tape. Inside, the small white box is insulated, with a disposable ice pack like the ones I got when I tried that home meal kit delivery service. Even more perplexed, I remove the ice pack to reveal four small vials filled with dark red liquid.
Blood.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I dig through the box looking for a note or something, but find nothing. My stomach clenches painfully and anger rises, hot and insistent.
“Fuck you. I don’t want your pity,” I hiss down at the vials, resisting the urge to raise my voice in case my neighbors catch me screaming at a box. I want to shatter them on the concrete steps, but then I’d have to deal with the broken glass and explain why there are bloodstains on my porch.
Getting an impersonal blood delivery from Blair is a slap to the face. A reminder that she thinks I cared more about what I could get from her than anything else.
“Fuck you,” I mutter, resolve settling in my chest as I carry the box to the garbage bin on the curb, then toss the whole thing inside.
She wants to treat me like I’m not even worth a goddamn note?
Fine.
Good.
Anger is as good a distraction as anything else. I’m done worrying about the heartbreak crushing me. Let it burn her out of my system.
When I pull into Mona’s driveway, there’s already another car parked in front of their garage. Some of the rage that was fueling me on the drive over sputters out as I worry about whose car that could be. I’m not really in a place to talk to strangers tonight. I wanted to have an anger-fueled bitch fest with Mona, not make small talk.
I pull up my text thread with Mona.
Grace: Hey! Do you have someone over?
Mona: Yes. Max’s sister showed up for a surprise visit a few minutes ago. I’m sorry, I would’ve warned you, but she literally just appeared at the door with an overnight bag and invited herself to spend the weekend here.
Grace: Yikes. Does Max like this sister?
Mona: Define “like”.
Grace: Ooof. Yikes indeed.
Mona: Samantha loves to give him shit and flirt with me. It’s harmless, but because he’s the baby of their family, it’s hard for him to see the humor in it sometimes. Even if they love each other.
Mona: I know you’re probably already running away, but if you can bear it, maybe come in and have dinner with us? She’s friendly and it’ll be nice for her to focus her flirting on someone that won’t piss Max off.
Ugh. I look down at my ratty hoodie and bleach-stained leggings, then assess how bad the dark circles under my eyes are in the rearview mirror. Not exactly how I’d want to look when meeting someone new, but fuck it. Mona and Max have been saints helping me through my bad neck flare up and my post-breakup funk. Playing interference with his sassy sister is the least I can do.
Grace: Sure. I’ll warn you in advance, though, that I’m in a really pissy mood, so I may not be an amazing guest.
Mona: That’s okay. Be as surly as you need to be. Knowing Samantha, she’ll probably like it.
Grace: She sounds…interesting.
Mona: Oh, just wait.
I dig some lip balm out of my purse and put it on, then pull my hair back into a ponytail to try to hide how oily and limp it is from not washing it in a few days. It doesn’t do much to improve my look, but it’s not like it even matters. I don’t need to impress Max’s sister. I just need to be a distraction.
Mona meets me at the door before I have a chance to ring the doorbell, a frazzled smile plastered on her lips. “Grace!”
I raise a brow at her. “Want me to kidnap you? If we’re fast enough, we can hop in my car before they notice.”
She snorts and shakes her head. “Thanks, but Max is a P.I. He’d find us before we got very far. ”
“True,” I sigh. “Alright then, I guess we’ll stay.”
“Come on in. They’re in the kitchen arguing over god knows what.” Mona rolls her eyes as I follow her inside and through to their living room and kitchen area.
“Come on, Maxie! Don’t be so sensitive. I was teasing.”
“Telling me my haircut makes me look like a loser isn’t teasing!” Max’s eyes flick to me over his sister’s shoulder, who is facing away, and he sighs and gives me a strained smile. “Hey, Grace, good to see you.”
I give a little wave, and his sister turns around to see who he’s talking to.
My eyes widen when I take in the grinning woman next to Max. Damn, hotness runs in their family. Samantha looks strikingly similar to her brother, but with white-blonde hair and lighter eyes.
I tug at my hoodie, suddenly much more self-conscious about my appearance.. It gets worse when she gives me an obvious quick once over. Nothing like looking like shit in front of someone ridiculously attractive to really put your confidence in the toilet.
I force a smile, pretending that I don’t look like I crawled out of a dumpster in comparison to her. “Hey Max!”
“Dude, you didn’t tell me we were having hot company,” Samantha stage whispers to her brother.
He rolls his eyes at her. “That would’ve required some advance notice about you coming to visit,” he murmurs back, then raises his voice. “This is my sister, Samantha. Samantha, this is Grace. Mona’s best friend. She’s here because she was invited. Unlike you.”
His frustrated comment rolls off of her as she steps forward with a wide grin, extending a hand out to me. “A pleasure, Grace.”
I take her hand and she gives it a shake, her fingers sliding along my palm in a tease as she lets go. I flush, taken aback by the unexpected flirtation. “Uh, nice to meet you. ”
Mona laughs. “At least she didn’t kneel and kiss your hand.”
“She did that when she met Mona for the first time because she can’t resist the opportunity to fuck with me,” Max explains.
“Ah.” My eyes flick to Samantha, who doesn’t look chastened at all. No, she’s grinning even wider, her violet eyes sparkling with delight.
“You should’ve seen the look on his face,” she says conspiratorially, leaning toward me.
Mona pats a glowering Max on the shoulder, and I resist the urge to laugh at how easily his sister gets to him. It’s funny, but makes me glad I’m an only child.
“We were thinking takeout for dinner,” Mona says, attempting to redirect the conversation. “Are burgers okay?”
“What, no home cooked meal for your sister you haven’t seen in ages?” Samantha teases, crossing her arms under her chest and cocking her hip to the side with a pout.
“I saw you last weekend,” Max deadpans.
“Burgers sound perfect!” I exclaim. Mona gives me a grateful nod.
“Hmm, if Grace wants burgers, then who am I to argue?” Samantha says, winking.
The flirtation shocks me again. It’s like there’s a palpable wave of her attraction that hits me whenever she does something flirty. And the way she’s watching me only makes it weirder. It’s feels supernatural…
Probably because it is. Shit, it’s easy to forget that Max is part demon. That means Samantha is too.
Normally, I’d shake it off, but I’m still riding the adrenaline of my rage earlier. I’m not in the mood to be magically flirted with. “What are you doing to me?” I ask bluntly .
“Oh shit, sorry!” Samantha’s smile flickers, and the sensation ends. She looks genuinely apologetic as she holds her hands up in appeasement. She gives Max and Mona a questioning look. “Does she know?”
“Yes, she knows about monsters. She knows I’m part-succubus, about Mona’s magic, and her girlfr—”Max winces and cuts himself off. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say, surprising myself with how calmly the words come out. Inside, the cold flame of anger blazes to life. “I was seeing a vampire. Now I’m not.”
Samantha gives me an assessing look. Can she sense emotions like her brother? If she can feel the rage in me, she doesn’t react. “Her loss.”
I nod, her comment bolstering the indignance inside me.
Yes. It fucking was. I’m a goddamn catch and this hot succubus recognizes that within five minutes of knowing me.
“Right, so I got a lot more of our Mom’s succubus abilities in the genetic lottery, compared to magic Max here,” Samantha says, flipping her icy blonde hair off her shoulder with a flourish. Even that small movement has a touch of magic to it, drawing my eye to the elegant slope of her shoulder. “I wasn’t doing anything intentionally. Sometimes my seductive powers, uh, leak out of me, for lack of better terms, when I’m attracted to someone. I’ll focus on keeping it tamped down if it’s bothering you. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Her candor and the compliment mingle with my determination to move past Blair. Maybe I should tell her I don’t mind. Encourage her to flirt with me. What’s wrong with getting some appreciation?
Those thoughts last for about five seconds before my gut twists, recoiling at the idea of smiling and flirting back. It feels wrong. The only person I want looking at me with desire is …
No. Dammit! I don’t owe Blair anything. I tried to give her my fucking heart, and she didn’t want it.
I swallow the surge of pain down and give Samantha a smile. “I’ve never heard of leaking as being seductive, but I guess there’s a first time for everything,” I say, with a forced chuckle.
A peal of laughter erupts from her, making Samantha so beautiful it’s almost hard to look at her. “Gorgeous and funny. You have suspect taste in men, but not in friends,” she says to Mona.
“It’s not too late for me to kick you out,” Max mutters, and Samantha’s supernatural charm vanishes as she turns and smacks his arm.
“Please tell me you’re not going to be like this the whole weekend,” Mona says with an exasperated sigh.
Samantha freezes, and both she and Max have twin sheepish looks after her frustrated comment. “Sorry, Mona. I’ll behave,” she says, a little too saccharine to be entirely believable.
Dinner ends up being surprisingly enjoyable. Samantha eases off her teasing, turning her focus on chatting with Mona about past D&D campaigns, and asking me about myself. She’s not flirting as hard, but every so often I get another spike of desire off of her when she looks my way.
“So, did you really drive all the way out here to bug me all weekend, or is there some ulterior motive for your visit?” Max asks when the conversation lulls.
Samantha snorts. “Hey! I’ve been nice all dinner. I didn’t even make fun of you when you choked on a fry. ”
“How magnanimous of you,” Max says drolly. “But seriously, why the sudden appearance?”
His sister looks like she’s about to give him a rude comeback, but thinks better of it and shrugs. “There’s an event nearby that one of my friends told me about. I’ve been meaning to check it out, and my weekend plans fell through, so I figured I could come see my baby bro and check out the event.”
Mona and Max exchange an inscrutable look. “What kind of event?” Mona asks, her voice slightly strained.
“A kinky one,” Samantha says, seemingly unbothered by discussing the topic around her brother. “They have a monster night once a month, since this area seems to be loaded up with kinky paranormals. Honestly, it sucks that you guys get a cool event like that out here in the suburbs, while I’m living in the city quickly running out of monsters to match with on Bewitch’d.”
“Oh, uh, cool.” Mona frowns at Max, and he squeezes her shoulder.
“You can’t go,” he says firmly.
“Uh, yes I can. Since when do you get to decide what I do with my life?” Samantha scoffs.
“No, you can’t,” Max says.
Samantha rolls her eyes. “I never took you to be a prude, Maxie. I know you’ve never been a fan of your succubus side, but some of us like to fuck and get freaky.”
I snort, unable to hold back my amusement knowing how wrong his sister is.
“What’s funny?” Samantha asks with a frown.
“Oh, nothing!” I say, not wanting to expose Max and Mona’s very kinky sex life to his sister.
Mona sighs. “Sam, Max and I had plans to go to that event. We’d been, uh, looking forward to it. You being there would be way too weird.”
“Oh!” Samantha gives Mona an assessing look, a salacious grin spreads across her face. “Nice.” She turns to look at a beet red Max and grimaces. “Ugh. Gross.”
“Yes. Like I said, you can’t go.”
“It happens once a month! You can go next time,” Samantha protests. “I really need this. Work has been awful and I haven’t been out on a date in weeks. Weeks . I’m going crazy with all my pent up succubus needs.”
I expect Max to argue with her, but he just frowns and exchanges a look with Mona, who nods. “Alright, you can go. We’ll stay home.”
His sister claps her hands together in triumph. “Thanks, Maxie! This is why you’re my favorite brother.”
“I’m your only brother,” Max scoffs. “You can go to the event tomorrow, but you have to promise not to go to The Vault unless you check in with me first ahead of time. No showing up randomly. It’s an important part of my relationship with Mona, and I won’t let you fuck that up by being there at an inopportune time because you’re horny or bored.”
Samantha nods solemnly. “I promise. Believe me, I’ve had enough of Mom and Dad’s stories. I don’t want to know what anyone else in the family gets up to.” She shudders at the thought.
Max has the same reaction to the mention of his parents, and I can’t help wondering what traumatized them so much. “Good.”
“I’m disappointed that I never got to see it,” I say, and all eyes at the table turn to me. It’s a stray, slightly bitter thought I hadn’t meant to voice out loud. “The monster night,” I clarify. “Not Max and Mona. Or your parents,” I add with a nervous snort, now that everyone’s attention is on me .
“Come with me!” Samantha exclaims, the wave of excitement pouring off of her at the prospect making my pulse quicken. She sees me flush and winces. “Shit, sorry.” Taking a deep breath, she makes her face as neutral as possible and the surge of energy dissipates. “No pressure, but it’d be more fun to go with someone.”
“I, uh… I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Sorry!” My appeasing smile probably looks more like a wince. “I’m not ready to, uh, do anything like that again.”
Even thinking about attempting a scene with someone new makes the dinner I ate sit like lead in my stomach. I hate that I can’t go out and fuck around and get Blair out of my system, but it didn’t work after my divorce, so it sure as shit won’t help after being with the woman who claimed my heart and introduced me to kink.
“Totally get it,” Samantha says with a nod. “I’m happy to go as friends, though. I’d hate for whatever happened with your ex to keep you from doing something you’re interested in.”
I can’t stop the rueful laugh that escapes from me. “It’s a little late for that, sadly.” I can’t imagine submitting to anyone but Blair. Shit, I can’t imagine wanting anyone else, period, which makes me seethe with anger. Makes me want to force myself to do something reckless to prove that wrong.
Samantha seems to pick up on that desire, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Seems to me like you could use a night out, and seeing all those monsters in one place is a rare opportunity for a human. And who knows, maybe you’ll find something to your taste?”
Max frowns at his sister, crossing his arm over his chest. “You don’t have to go if it makes you uncomfortable, Grace. Sam is annoyingly persuasive, but she won’t be upset if you say no.”
“It’s fine,” I say, giving him an appreciative smile. I know he can sense the anger and pain burning inside me, but I don’t think he gets that I want to lean into it. “You know what? Fuck it. I’ll go. If I hate it, I can always go home.” And if that happens, I’ll just have ended up back where I would’ve been to start.
I refuse to let what happened with Blair keep me from living my life. I may be broken and bleeding on the inside, but I’m not giving in. I’m done being the sad and pathetic girl who spends her nights soaking her pillows with tears over people that don’t want her.