Chapter 30 Good August
CHAPTER THIRTY
GOOD AUGUST
OKAY, BUT WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?
Two Augusts. My August, and whoever the fuck this August is.
And me, I guess.
Three Augusts!
My first instinct is to untie him. He’s us, and I feel terrible at the thought of being in his place, restrained on the short and ugly basement carpet.
But was he just about to shoot my boyfriend? “Did you just try to shoot my boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” he spits out on a mocking laugh.
“Boyfriend?” my August asks sweetly.
“Yes, you’re my boyfriend,” I hurl at him. “What are you even talking about? Of course you’re my boyfriend!”
A blush is rare from him, unlike me. And it’s lovely. “We never discussed it.”
“You’re my boyfriend. Okay?”
“Yes.” I get a fast nod for my trouble. “Definitely.”
“Good.”
“Very good,” he returns, and this lovely jerk better not be flirting with me just yet. I’m still way too mad at him.
“What the fuck is with you two?” the new August asks.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out,” Jon mutters, this being his sole input in the entire mess.
I feel no need to explain it to him, or to this random third August out of nowhere. But I could use a little more information. “Look, can someone please tell me what’s going on?”
“Get me up and I’ll explain it,” says the captive.
“You can just shut your mouth,” my August replies.
“And this whole time I thought you wanted me to talk to you,” on-the-floor August quips.
“The time for talking was before you tried to shoot me,” August throws back.
“I’m just doing my job.”
“Which is what?” I yell. I yank him up by the elbows, allowing him to get his knees under himself.
Demonstrating that apparently I’m not that scary a captor, he shuffles over to the mattress, takes a seat, and scooches back until he’s comfortable, like this is a slumber party and we’re deciding which movie to watch. “Your boyfriend’s a killer, did you know?”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “I know.”
“What?” new August snaps.
“I told him,” says August. “I told him everything. The question is, how the hell do you know that?”
“Why do you think I’m following you? I’ve been trying to catch up. You keep slipping universes, destroying universes. Every time I get a lock on you, the world breaks down, and you’re gone again.”
“Did you ever think of just saying hi?” my August responds.
“I feel like ‘just saying hi’ isn’t August Blackthorne’s strong suit,” I can’t help but put in.
I get a double take from my August, and his exasperated, “I had to make sure you weren’t dangerous before I approached you.”
“And that’s how you get punched in the face,” I return.
“And the stomach,” Assassin August responds on a groan.
Jon makes his way over and sits on the edge of the mattress, studying the three of us. I am thankful for his unprecedented silence while I try to figure this out, but I’m not sure I love the type of interest his unerring gaze suggests he’s taking in all of us.
Trying to keep things moving, I ask the new guy, “Okay, so, you’ve been following my August?”
“Your August,” he repeats, shaking his head. “Like it wasn’t bad enough before.” He dips his head and lets out a long sigh. “I’ve been following your August for years now. If he’s told you the truth, you’ll know he’s the most effective mass murderer in all existence.”
“Fuuuck,” Jon whispers. “Told you he’s a supervillain.”
“Is he very wanted?” I ask Assassin August, and I’m only slightly ashamed at the touch of excitement in my tone.
“He’s not wanted at all,” he replies with a grimace. “I’m the only one looking for him, as far as I know. I’m the only one who’s figured out what he’s doing. And that’s why I’m trying to stop him.”
“By killing me?” August scoffs.
“Correct. There isn’t another way. And the impression I got from you this morning is that you’ve finally realised that.”
They hold dark eye contact a moment. The scene comes upon me, vivid. Assassin August with the gun pointed at my August’s head.
I thought I was helping. I thought I was saving him.
But that was what he wanted.
I feel sick all over, ready to vomit knowing these two have some weird murder pact going on, and me on the outside of it. Knowing August was going to let this guy blow his brains out like that.
He must be able to see how upset I am, because he takes my hand, pulls me around to face him. “It was the easiest way.”
“You don’t just do that. You don’t turn your back on the people who love you. You don’t take your life. It’s mine now, August. It’s my life now. You don’t get to do that.”
He reaches for my cheek, a feeling I’ve come to love so much, so I slap his hand away. “August—”
“Don’t. Don’t say my name. Don’t say our name when you’re taking half of me. You have no right to it. Not when you’re killing me too.” Suddenly, despite my anger, I’m pulling his hands back, grasping for him, pushing his palm up against my hot skin.
He strokes my face, and I wish I could melt into his touch. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
“You did hurt me.”
“I know.”
“Then fix it.” Maybe that’s unfair. I don’t care.
The breath from his lips comes heavy. An apology.
I’m not fucking having that. “You think you’re crazy, destroying worlds? Well, guess what? I’m you. Whatever darkness is in you, it’s in me too. Try me. You haven’t seen fucking crazy yet.”
“He’s right,” Jon interjects. “He almost killed a guy on the way over here.”
“You did what?” August gasps out.
“I didn’t!” I automatically protest. Then I remember. “Well, I did. Kind of. But I didn’t mean to. I was upset and—”
“You’re not helping your cause,” Jon mumbles, deadpan.
“Oh. Right. I mean…” I front back up to August. “Yeah. Yeah, I almost killed a guy. Almost ran him down just for the sake of it. Old man… with his… stupid cane.” The vision of his appalled face smashes into my mind, and my guilt redoubles.
“God, I feel so bad. That poor guy. I must have scared him half to death.”
August’s hand slips around my waist, and as though my brain has no say in the matter, my whole body responds to him, leaning into him like a sapling reaching for sunlight. He holds my cheek, and kisses me softly. “Stop being so adorable.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Not if it’ll keep you here.”
Earnest, he looks deep into my eyes. “If there were any other way, I would take it. You know that.”
“I mean every word.” I hope he understands the depth of the message: “If you do something crazy, so will I.”
His lips part, his brow setting hard. “That’s not a nice thing to say.”
“And it’s not a nice thing to do.” I stare back at him, hoping I can shoot every bit of hurt and fury I’m feeling right now deep into his mind and his heart.
“You’re not going anywhere without me, not ever again.
You’re not leaving my sight. You’re attached to me from now on, the two of us, one person. Do you understand?”
“Okay, this is all lovely,” Assassin August interrupts.
“Really, it is. But you seem to be forgetting the problem here: you two are a ticking time bomb. I didn’t come all this way to murder myself for the fun of it.
You’re going to destroy this world. And if August doesn’t die soon, he’ll destroy the next world after this, then the next one after that, and he won’t stop.
Look at him. He’s not aging. He’s resetting every time.
We’re talking the complete multiverse, billions of worlds, all shot down because you two want to fuck. ”
“It’s deeper than that!” I yell at him.
“I don’t care!” Assassin August yells back. “I don’t care if he’s the love of your life. How many loves of how many lives are you both about to snuff out?”
August squeezes my hand. “He’s right. I’m sorry to say it, but he’s right.”
“No.” I shake my head in complete denial of their ridiculous logic. “Love will find a way. Love always finds a way.”
“It does,” Jon agrees.
“What would you know?” says Assassin August, tone sharp and sharply judgmental.
Jon gives him a small shrug. “It’s not what I know.
It’s what all the best music’s built on.
The best lyrics. The best poetry—because that’s what songs are.
Books, movies, plays, paintings—all of human creativity.
Love’s an essential function of who we are and how we exist. It’s written in the stars. ”
All three of us stop and stare at him. Weirdly succinct. Weirdly lovely. Classic Jon.
“It’s not Bon Jovi,” my August offers gently.
“It’s not what?” asks Assassin August.
But my August ignores him. “It’s not fiction. It’s real lives, real pain, real loss.”
“It’s pure destruction,” Assassin August agrees with him.
“Someone has to put an end to it. And truly, it gives me no pleasure to be the one to do it. But that August’s torn a hole in the fabric of the multiverse.
He’s the thing that’s making it continue to expand and tear. He’s the only one who can stop it.”
“Yeah, sure, by finding the right universe,” I argue. “Not by doing what you’re both talking about.”
“You can’t play Russian roulette with existence like that.” He shifts his gaze to my August. “I’ve been over your work. I’m a particle physicist too, and I cracked the same thing you did in my own universe. Only I had some common sense and didn’t bloody do it.”
August’s face hardens against him, and Assassin August softens his voice.
“My world’s a bit more advanced than yours.
We detected the branes of the other universes vibrating beside our own.
We were working on a way to measure their mass, their age, you know, doing basic research like scientists do. ”
This time, my August rolls his eyes then looks away, so Assassin August focuses on me instead.
“That’s when we realised worlds were disappearing.
It took a while, trying to figure out if they’d just shifted away, or been removed.
But then we found one. We watched it change size, swell, bigger and bigger, then get sick and shrivel. ”
August tries to pull his hand away, so I snatch it up and hold it close to my chest.