Chapter Twenty-Nine – Ezra
We’re lost in each other for hours. Everything gets hazy for a while. When one of us is tired, another picks up the slack. Royal is like the old Energizer bunny; he keeps go-go-going. The man has wicked stamina, I’ll give him that.
Regardless, it’s late by the time we lay there, on the bed in a heap, our limbs entangled.
Only the lamp light on the nightstand is on, giving the room a dull, unearthly glow.
Though we’re all exhausted, though we’re all tired, there is still one more thing we have left to surprise her with.
Since I’m the one on the outer edge of the bed, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom in order to grab it from Hawthorne’s office.
We didn’t plan on taking things into the bedroom, but once Royal got it in his head, there was no dissuading him.
Why would we? Taking things into the bedroom meant more Abby, and none of us would deny her. Not now, not in a million years.
The surprise is in the top drawer of Hawthorne’s desk, and luckily it doesn’t need a key.
I pull out the box and run my finger along its edge.
It’s bigger than the ring box I’m used to holding, although I don’t hold it much at all anymore.
I don’t need to. My past and what I’ve lost will always be a part of me, and I won’t forget Kaitlin and all the good times we had before she was taken from me, but Abby helped me realize I can’t keep holding onto it.
Losing yourself to the past means you’re never really present. It means you’ll never have a true future.
I never thought I’d admit this about anyone, but Abby makes me excited for all of the things to come, and I can’t imagine living the rest of my life without her. So, while her last surprise of the night might not be a ring, it’s damn close to one.
Holding the box behind my back, I rejoin the others on the bed. Abby is splayed on Hawthorne’s chest, while Royal is curled against her backside. There is barely room on the bed for me to sit on its edge; Hawthorne did order large beds for all of us, but they’ll take another week or so to get here.
Abby doesn’t lift her head off Hawthorne’s chest, but she does smile up at me lazily and ask, “Whatcha got there?” As she asks it, Royal is slow to sit up behind her, and Hawthorne lightly touches her shoulder, so she gets off him.
Soon, all four of us are sitting up, though she is obviously at the center of our attention.
“One last surprise for the night,” I say, and then I reveal the box. It’s another telltale box. Anyone who knows jewelry would know immediately what kind of piece is inside, although I don’t think anyone would guess the exact detail.
Another thing Hawthorne had to special order. Something like this you can’t go to any old store and buy on a whim.
Abby is slow to take the box, and she divides her time between looking at it, and then glancing at the three of us. The lazy smile she wore before gives way to a real, genuine, excited as hell grin. “Is it something sparkly?”
“Open it and see,” Royal tells her.
Her fingers lift the top of the box, and the very moment she sees what lies within, her breath catches, and all she can do is stare down at it in what I hope is shock, but a good kind of shock. The words “It’s beautiful” leave her, but that’s all she can say as she stares down at it.
What is it? A necklace. A necklace wouldn’t be so awe-inspiring normally, but it’s the pendant that’s the main focus here: an old-fashioned hockey mask like the one we wear during our kills, bejeweled with lots of tiny diamonds that sparkle even in this dim lighting.
It’s us. It’s what we do. It’s a symbol of our hearts and our future together. A promise.
“We each have one,” Hawthorne tells her as she carefully lifts it out of the box.
Royal mutters, “Not as sparkly as yours, though.”
“I love it,” she whispers, then she offers it to me. “Put it on?”
I take the necklace from her, and she lifts up her hair. I drape it around her neck and clasp it together, and then she lets her hair down and bends her head to look at it. “We wanted to give you something that shows you’re ours, and we’re yours.”
Abby flashes us a set of pearly whites. “It’s perfect.” Before we can say anything else, she blurts out the words “I love you guys. I do. I don’t care if it’s too fast or too weird or whatever. I love you guys so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you three.”
“Hey,” Royal growls out the word. “We were going to—”
“I love you, too,” I say.
“And I love you as well,” Hawthorne says.
Royal groans. “I memorized that speech for no fucking reason? Bullshit.” Then his prickly exterior softens, and he tells her, “I love you, too. You know that. You’re my brand of crazy, Abigail LaRoe.”
Isn’t that just the perfect way to describe her? Our brand of crazy, just like we’re her brand of psycho. Together, we are but one arm of D.D.K. We’re stronger and better together.
“You guys are sneaky,” she says as she lays back down, and we lay down with her.
“Here I thought the pizza and the cake were my only presents. I had no idea you guys were going to take turns with me on Hawthorne’s desk or that you were scheming about jewelry behind my back. What did I ever do to deserve you?”
“Kill two guys, attempt to kill a third, got scared by a spider—” Royal’s matter-of-fact description of how it all went down earns him a chuckle from our girl.
“Hey, that spider was huge. I bet if you would’ve stepped on him, he would’ve made a big, gushy sound when he popped.
Oh, that reminds me. Since I’m living here and all, I figure it’s only a matter of time until I come across one of those creepy crawlies, so I’m curious: who’s the go-to spider killer?
Because it sure as shit ain’t gonna be me. ”
Hawthorne says, “We don’t kill spiders in this house. We either let them be or, if we must, we get a glass from the kitchen and try to take them outside. They’re just living their life, after all. Unlike our targets, they haven’t hurt anyone.”
I can tell based on the face Abby makes she doesn’t quite agree, so I say, “If you see a spider, why don’t you just call one of us and we’ll handle it for you?”
“That’s all I’m asking,” she says, and I chuckle.
Our Abby, afraid of spiders. She can cut off a man’s head without blinking, get her hands bloodied, and yet spiders give her the heebie-jeebies. Our life together is only just beginning, so I can’t wait to learn what other weird little quirks she has.
It’s a good thing we have all the time in the world.