Chapter 23 Harper
twenty-three
Harper
PINK CUPS AND PROMISES.
I had a dream about Logan. It had been happening a lot recently, at least on the nights I slept, and for the briefest moment, I’d feel happy. But then I’d wake up. It would fade. I’d remember what happened—his text and that he’d left me. I’d remember what Tristan said.
Even the good memories felt like a lie now.
Tainted nostalgia.
I skipped the song I was currently listening to. It just sounded wrong, the beat too fast, too urgent. It pissed me off. The next song was too slow. It pissed me off too. Too happy. Too energetic. Too loud. Too much. Skip. Skip. Skip.
It was all wrong.
I hit pause. Threw my phone across the room. Then I was running without it. The only sound was my breathing and my heavy footfalls on the treadmill. Too much. Not enough. I picked up the remote, flicking through channels just as rapidly as songs—until I saw Tristan’s face on the screen.
The remote was out of my hand before I’d thought about it, shattering glass and embedding itself in the screen right where his fucking face had been.
“Leave me alone!” I screamed at nothing. At no one. Just a ghost.
The treadmill slowed to a stop, and I bent with my hands on my knees as I caught my breath.
Caught myself and my emotions. So I could shove them back into the box I had to lock them in and bury it deep in my soul, where it could fester and rot until it took over all of me.
Until the sickness bled out of me, and people wouldn’t be able to look at me without seeing it. I was infected. Contagious.
Beep beep beep beep. Beep bee—
5:00 a.m. Wake up.
I went to go shower. My bathroom smelled like eucalyptus. I didn’t like it.
Beep beep beep beep. Beep beep beep—
6:30 a.m. Breakfast
I pulled the sleeve of my jacket up to silence my watch, secured my helmet on my bike, and headed upstairs to my office.
Matthew would probably text me when I didn’t meet him in the garage at home. Again. I wouldn’t get it. My phone had broken when I threw it. Didn’t matter. I’d get another one.
Beep bee—
8:00 p.m. Home.
I unfastened my watch from my wrist, turned it off, and shoved it into the top drawer of my desk. Then I went back to what I was doing.
There was a knock at my door after the sky had turned dark, and my office was lit only by the dual screens in front of me. I knew who it was without looking up.
“It’s quite late.” Matthew’s voice seemed cautious.
“Go home, then.”
“But you—”
“I’ll get myself home, Matthew. Go.”
He exhaled slowly. The lights flickered on, casting the monochrome space in a blue-white clinical glow. Much too bright. Much too cold.
I said nothing.
“It isn’t good for your eyes to be in the dark like that.”
I nodded and went back to typing.
Matthew lingered by the door a long moment before approaching the desk. “I made you dinner. I thought… maybe we could eat together?”
My fingers stopped, hovering over the keys. My eyes remained on the monitor without seeing.
“I’m really quite busy, Matthew. Another time.”
“Okay,” he answered, and I could hear the disappointment in his voice. “Another time. Well, I’ll leave this here for you, then. Please eat it.”
I nodded, staring blankly ahead as he placed something on my desk and left the room again.
My eyes flicked to the red Tupperware box. It wasn’t the first one he’d left me. It wouldn’t be the last. My stomach twisted. My mind rebelled.
The janitor usually came through at eleven.
I’d give it to her again.
Sunday, and I wouldn’t be going into the office until later.
There was somewhere I needed to go first. I’d answered Cupid’s call on his twelfth attempt, thinking that someone had better be dying for him to be blowing up my phone like this.
I regretted the thought when I heard what he had to say. People were missing. Coyote was hurt.
The ride to Bull’s passed too quickly.
Riding was one thing that hadn’t yet been tainted. How long would it be able to give me peace before it too was contaminated by whatever now lived within my skin?
There was a truck in the driveway I didn’t recognize, along with two bikes I did, and after a long moment of contemplation, I decided I’d proceed anyway.
The front door opened to green eyes and pink hair, then a wide grin that showcased white teeth with a gap between the front two.
“Snakey.” Cupid beamed. I didn’t know why he always seemed so genuinely pleased to see me. It wasn’t like we were friends.
“I’m here to see Coyote.”
“It’s Devil now.”
“Right.” I huffed.
“I think he might be sleeping again, but come in. I made tea.”
“I can come back lat—”
Slender fingers with pink polish wrapped around my arm as Cupid pulled me inside. “He’ll be up again soon, I’m sure. Now come, sit.”
Raven was seated at the kitchen table. She offered me a nod in greeting as she blew a pink bubble with her gum.
Fox sat beside her. In all the times I’d seen him before, he’d been energetic, bouncing around and talking faster than he was capable of thinking.
He’d worn bright colors and had his hair spiked up into a ridiculous blue mullet mohawk.
That wasn’t who sat here now, though. His skin was pale, his eyes dark and shadowed in a way I recognized all too well.
His hair was flat and dull, and he wore a dark plaid flannel far too big for his slight frame.
“Raven. Fox,” I greeted.
“It’s Bryce,” he said as he snapped his head up to look at me, a fire sparking in his eyes and dying before it took hold. “It’s just Bryce. I’m not a Stray anymore. So don’t call me that.”
My eyes flicked to Raven, who shook her head softly. Okay then.
On the table in front of them both were delicate pink teacups with gold handles. Soft wisps of steam danced from the spout of a matching pink teapot.
“Sit, sit.” Cupid all but shoved me down into a seat at the table as he got another cup and put it in front of me. “Luckily this is a four-cup set.” He smiled.
I looked at the cups, at Cupid, at Raven, and I wondered how the fuck we’d ended up in a situation where Bryce had the most logical response to it.
“What the fuck is the matter with all of you?” My words were quiet, but they heard me.
A chill seeped into the air, the sickness inside me oozing out to contaminate them.
“Archer is missing. Reaper and Jackal are missing. Dex almost died. Henrik, the fucking bastard, won’t answer anyone’s calls…
and you’re having a fucking tea party, are you serious? ” My volume increased with every word.
Cupid slowly sank down into the chair beside me.
Bryce’s chair scraped against the floor as he stood up and stormed away, almost running as heavy footfalls thumped up the stairs.
Raven was the only one who could meet my eyes. She sat forward in her chair, blowing another bubble. The sound of it popping almost echoed in the sudden silence.
“Shit’s fucked,” she said, her voice calm but stern.
“People are missing. People are hurt. And that sucks, Snake. It’s fucking tragic.
It’s frustrating. It’s not okay. But yelling isn’t going to change it.
Turning on each other isn’t going to change it.
What’s happened has happened. So yes, we’re having a fucking tea party.
” Her eyes glassed over and her voice broke as her facade cracked.
“Because the only way we stop ourselves from losing more is to stay together. It’s comforting and supporting each other. Because we’re all that’s left.”
Raven sniffed, and I blinked away the heat that spilled from my eyes without my consent.
“So,” she continued. “You’re going to sit there, and Matty is going to pour you a cup of tea, and you’re going to fucking drink it.
” More tears filled her eyes until she blinked them away, droplets tinted with purple eyeshadow leaving their mark across her cheeks.
“Because it tastes really good. And tea parties are dope.” She nodded at me firmly, once, and then grabbed her cup, holding it out to Cupid for a refill.
He was quiet and somber beside me, but as Raven held the cup out to him, I watched as he pulled on the happy demeanor he always had.
I saw it now. I understood it. They weren’t unaffected. They were pretending. Pretending that they were okay, because it was better than living in the truth.
I wiped the dampness from my cheeks, picked up my cup, and held it out to Cupid.
“And when Bryce comes back, you’re going to apologize to him,” Raven added, and I nodded.
The tea smelled like strawberries. It was warm and sweet, and Raven was right, it tasted good.
When I finished my cup, Cupid poured me another, and I drank that too. Cupid tried talking, but every conversation we started would fade away.
So we sat in silence.
Then footsteps were coming down the stairs again. I braced myself to apologize to Bryce, but it was Bull who entered the kitchen.
He gave me a faint nod and reached for Cupid’s cup, downing the whole thing in one gulp.
“Hey.” Cupid pouted.
The closest thing I’d seen to a smile from Bull pulled at his lips. Disappeared again.
“I need to talk to you,” I spoke up.
Bull sighed. He reached for the teapot and refilled Cupid’s cup for him. “Come, then.”
I followed him up the stairs, passing Bryce in the hallway. He was in the arms of a bigger and older man I didn’t recognize, who was rubbing Bryce’s back as he cried into his shirt.
Bull led me to a bedroom and closed the door. His bedroom, it seemed. The room was a decent size, with dark floors and blue walls like the rest of the house. It was also a mess—dark blankets bunched up on the bed, clothes all over the ground. Most of them were pink.
I turned to face him. “Archer didn’t do it.”
Bull stared at me for a long moment before sighing. “I know.”
“Henrik did.”
“I know.”
My jaw and throat tightened. “What do you mean, you know? If you know, then why haven’t you done anything?”
“It is not so simple.”