62. Nash
NASH
Turning off the stove, I grabbed the hot pan and drizzled the melted butter over the popcorn.
Sure, homemade took longer. But it was always worth it.
“Hurry up, dude. We’re forgetting the plot of the movie at this rate.” Blade groaned from the couch, her leg anxiously tapping against the shag carpet.
I rolled my eyes as I grabbed the big metal bowl and walked back to the living room. Setting the bowl on the table, I moved over to the burning wood stove in the corner of the den. I grabbed the handle of the door, flung it open and tossed a new log inside.
It was early to run the woodstove; the house was plenty warm without it.
But we all took comfort in it.
Over the last few days, it had been difficult to get comfortable. The looming confusion of The Messenger’s— Rubin’s plans had made everyone antsy.
Once the wood caught, I sealed the door and flopped back on the couch. Tess’s body bounced a little as I threw myself down.
“Jesus.” She giggled as she adjusted back into her spot, trying to take a sip of her hard cider. The glass bottle looked pretty on her lips, and the drips of amber brew were enough to stop my heart.
Blade must have had the same thought. “Come here, Trinket. Let me clean you up.” Her tongue slipped out from behind her lips, licking up the drops of cider as her piercing rubbed against Tess’s soft skin.
My throat tightened, burning for a taste of her myself.
Tess shifted in her seat, certainly throbbing between her legs. Her eyes nervously checked the runtime of the movie on the TV.
Too long to trust that Blade and I could keep our hands to ourselves.
But then her gaze dropped to the wooden box just under the screen. Inside, the worn deck of Tarot cards lie in waiting.
“I want a reading.” She popped up from the couch just as Blade leaned in, trying to close in on her prey before she could slip through her claws.
“Funny.” I scoffed as I leaned back into the couch.
Of course, I knew the time would come that she would ask. Who wouldn’t? We treated those cards like the weather, like they could predict how the wind would blow.
At least Cyrus did.
She claimed I had a touch of something. That what I saw when I read the cards were real visions.
But there was a thin line between coincidence and prophecy.
And if I had to put money on it, I’d say it was chance. Like thinking you stood a chance at the roulette table.
“I’m serious.” Tess grabbed the ornate box and held it in her palms.
The winding vines of a pothos snaked around the wood, turning into a viper as it reached the gold latch. Some spots were rougher than others — Cyrus’s carving skill progress was a map along every grain of wood.
“You have a club. I want to be a part of it.” Licking her teeth, Tess meant business.
And the worst part was, she wasn’t wrong.
We’d left her out, left her in the group home all those years ago. In the meantime, we’d fabricated an entire religion around her.
And here she was, completely clueless.
Blade stared me down. “It’s not that serious.”
To Tess, it would be a playful ribbing. But I knew what Blade meant. She didn’t believe, not the way Cyrus did, not even the way I did.
Maybe she was right.
But I took a handful of popcorn anyway, shoving it in my mouth. “Can’t. Hands too dirty.” I spoke through the mouthful of food.
“Ugh.” Tess grabbed a roll of paper towels from the coffee table and threw them into my lap. “Then clean yourself up.”
“You’re relentless.” My tongue teased my lips, almost able to taste her on me.
Leaning over the table, Tess’s voice was a sexy grumble. “That’s how you like it, Nash.”
“True, Sweet Lamb.” Wiping my hands on a few napkins, I sat up on the couch and rolled my shoulders back. Nodding to the space on the floor opposite to the couch, I commanded her. “Sit there. I need to be able to look into your eyes.”
I could see in her clover-colored eyes that she wanted to resist me, to challenge the authority I’d adopted.
But instead, she knelt down and got comfortable.
Blade rose from the couch, moving around the living room and lighting candles before flicking off the lamp behind the couch.
Under the candlelight, I sucked my teeth. “You’ll get three cards.” For each word, I pointed to the corresponding card from her left to right. “The situation. The obstacle. The advice.”
“Should I ask a question?” Tess met my eyes.
But it was Blade that answered. “Nah, see how good she is. Keep it a secret.”
I shot her a deadly glance. “Dickhead.” Turning back to Tess, I nodded. “Keep the question in your head as I shuffle the deck.”
Pulling the cards from the wooden box, I felt the weight of them in my palm. Heavy today. A scale would call me a liar, but there was something different about how the stack felt in my hands.
Shuffling the cards, I let them fall into each other.
Please hear her question, provide us with clarity.
Tess’s eyes stayed on the cards, watching my fingers as I bridged them and let them fall into one another.
When I was done, satisfied with the shuffle, I held the deck out to her. The blue tartan pattern on their backsides hid the cards’ meaning. “Tap the deck and ask your question in your mind.”
Hesitant, Tess reached out her hands and pressed the tips of her fingers into the worn paper. For a moment, her eyes closed and she sucked in a deep breath. Only when she released it did she pull her hand away.
“Good, Sweet Lamb.” I split the deck in half, taking the top stack and nestling it under the bottom. The ink-blackened tip of my finger touched the first card, sliding it off the deck and face-down onto the coffee table. A second followed. And then the third.
My chest tightened at the spread on the table — its meaning still obscured.
A part of me hoped that I was a quack. That none of this was real and we’d made it all up.
In the dead silence of the living room, I flipped the first card. “High Priestess, reversed.”
The knot in my stomach subsided just a bit. I had no idea what she’d asked but this card was vague enough to keep it light and fun. If she’d asked a deeper question, I wouldn’t give her a better answer. Not yet.
“You’ll notice that the Priestess rests on a throne between two pillars, one light and one dark. In its upright position, this is meant to symbolize balance and harmony. In some sense, it’s almost as if she served as the third pillar.” I watched the cards, my eyes searching for more meaning.
“Reversed, it’s a little more complicated. Not the opposite but something intensifying. I would interpret it as an instability, a hesitance to follow your intuition or trust your gut. Could be about work, or friends maybe.”
Looking into her blue eyes, I could tell she was interrogating me. There was a part of her that knew I was giving her a lighter reading.
Despite her prying eyes, I went on — praying the second card kept this light.
But as soon as my lightning soaked fingertip hit the paper, I knew it wasn’t. The cards wouldn’t let me off easy. Not tonight.
“Nine of Swords.” I swallowed hard as my gaze dropped to the depressing card. A person sat upright in a bed, their head buried in their palms. A wall of swords hung overhead, towering over their bed.
“Quite the obstacle.” Blade scoffed as she fell back onto the couch.
Instead of relenting, Tess pressed on, leaning onto the table and looking at the card closely.
“If the lack of intuition is your situation, possibilities are your obstacle.” Trying to obscure the true meaning, I dug for something else. “You feel lost. Alone.”
“What about the swords in my back?” Tess licked her teeth, meeting my eyes.
Shit.
She was too smart, too aware.
Of course it all meant something. I knew it, and so did Blade.
Shaking her head, Tess’s gaze intensified. “I want a real reading. Not bullshit.”
I could see in her blue eyes that she meant it. Whether I believed it or not, she was ready for the truth. At least as much of it as I could give her.
Looking closer at the cards, I let my fingertip graze the back of the illustrated character. “They aren’t in your back. They appear to be. That’s different.”
There was no stopping the reading now. “Questions plague you. They keep you up at night, what could have been. The betrayal you feel may be real to you but the swords haven’t yet pierced your back.
Even if they might. You’re getting ahead of yourself, letting past wounds shape your current mindset. ”
Scoffing, Tess rolled her eyes. “And what’s the solution?”
Despite the first two cards’ insistence on making me reveal the truth, I had hope that a solutions card would leave me more wiggle room.
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes before I flipped the card.
“Fuck.” Blade mumbled before I could even look at what had been revealed.
Tess’s brow furrowed, recognizing it immediately.
The Three of Swords.
The symbol that rested on my knee, the one that faced her right now. Three swords stabbed through a bright red heart, clouds and rain pouring down behind them.
My throat tightened like I’d been stung by a bee.
Tess’s eyes jumped from my knee to Blade’s arm. If she hadn’t known what it was now, she did now.
“What does it mean?” She spoke through gritted teeth, wanting her answer.
Despite my own hesitance, it was hard to deny the pull of the deck. Why they had chosen to show her this card now, I couldn’t understand. It was the most obvious card in the deck, its meaning almost impossible to obscure.
It was betrayal, especially by separation. The image depicts the struggle itself: destroying the thing that hurt you even if you still adore it.
“Nash, seriously.”
My gaze flicked to Blade, whose green eyes shone under the candlelight. But all she could do was shrug.
“Cut it out.” Tess pressed. “Just tell me.”
Wetting my dry lips, I shook my head. “A return. Revenge.”