Chapter 22
twenty-two
The Angel
“He’s probably going to bite my hand off when he sees me again,” Mercy says, following me down the hall, with Saint and Heath bringing up the rear. “I’m sure he’d rather stay with your cousin.”
“That’s not how it works,” Saint says. “You can’t just give him away. He’s yours.”
“Try telling that to your parents,” she mutters.
“My parents are pieces of shit,” Saint says flatly. “They can burn in hell.”
I tap on Annabel Lee’s door, and a second later, it’s opened by a skinny girl with a shaved head, hoop earrings, and striking, pale sea-green eyes framed with thick black lashes.
A snake is draped around her shoulders, and she’s wearing camo cargo pants with a spiked belt hanging so low on her hips we can see her hipbones, fingerless black mesh gloves, and a tight tank of the same material.
Thankfully she’s got a skimpy bra under it covering her tiny tits, though her bellybutton ring is on full display.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, scowling down at her.
“I could say the same to you,” she says, quirking a brow as she looks me up and down. “Something you want to tell me?”
Annabel Lee appears behind her, her gaze fixing on Mercy. Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she settles into her usual blasé expression. “Oh, hey,” she says, like it’s no big deal and she wasn’t at all worried. “Glad you didn’t get buried alive.”
“I… Thank you?” Mercy says, watching the snake warily as it sways its head and flickers its tongue.
“Didn’t know you were having a Future Lesbians of America meeting,” I say.
“It’s actually a current Pride Club meeting,” Eve says.
“Thorncrown has one of those?” I ask. “Or is that what you’re doing on campus? Stirring up trouble, as usual?”
“Can’t let my namesake down,” she says, tapping necklace she wears, a gold snake with a ruby apple in its mouth.
“We’re actually here for the cat,” I say.
“Not very gay of you,” she says, flashing her teeth in a grin.
The tip of her tongue peeks out under her long, left canine the way it always does.
For years, she refused to smile in family pictures and even cut short her laughs and looked around self-consciously to make sure no one noticed the mismatched tooth.
Then we found out someone at school was making fun of it, so I kicked his ass, and Dad kicked his dad’s ass.
Now she brings attention to the imperfection every chance she gets, like she’s daring anyone to say something about it.
“Who is it?” Manson’s voice calls from further inside the room. “Do we have a new member?”
“No, they’re here for pussy,” Annabel Lee says, turning and going into her room.
The rest of us tromp in after her. She scoops up the fluffy grey kitten, who seems to have grown in the week we were gone, and deposits him in my arms. For once, he rubs his head on me like he actually likes me, then starts purring and making biscuits on my arm.
I resist the urge to dance around like Heath and gloat.
I thought the little bastard hated me, but he was just playing hard to get.
He clearly secretly loves me, not just Saint.
“Mercy,” Manson bellows, jumping to his feet.
“Manson,” she squeals, throwing herself into his arms.
He gives her a bear hug and kisses the top of her head. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” he says. “I was sure you were going to be disemboweled and left to die slowly.”
“And your head planted on a stake outside to warn off enemies,” Annabel Lee says.
“No, that was what you said,” Manson corrects, pulling back from the hug. “I said she’d be hung by her entrails.”
“Well, I’m glad my kidnapping provided you with so much entertainment,” Mercy says, rolling her eyes.
“You can’t blame us for considering all the possibilities,” Annabel Lee drawls, sinking to the floor in a puff of black crinkly crinoline. A circle of their friends sit around the rug, eating snacks and gossiping.
“Come on, join us,” Manson says. “You don’t have to be part of the community. Allies are welcome too. Vero’s straight.”
“I’m seriously reconsidering,” Ronique says, giving Saint a dirty look. “After seeing the options, I might have to switch teams.”
“Welcome to the dark side,” Annabel Lee says with an evil grin.
Mercy looks at us. “Would you mind? I haven’t seen them in almost a month. And… I want to learn the best ways to be supportive.” She keeps her eyes trained on me, so she won’t even hint at outing the other two.
“Of course,” I say. “Stay. Hang out, eat. Just no pussy.”
Her face reddens. “You’re a jerk.”
“Yeah, but I’m the jerk who eats your pussy, so you love me anyway.”
“I’ll stay too,” Heath says.
“Really?” she asks, her eyes widening.
“Yeah, really?” I ask, raising a brow.
He shrugs. “Yeah, why not? I’m bi and hungry, and they have French onion dip.”
“I’m going to get that put on a shirt for you,” I joke.
Manson claps his hands together, a giddy grin on his face. “Two new members. My dream of a gayer campus is coming true already.”
“Don’t you mean a more tolerant campus?” Ronique asks.
“Tom-ay-toes, tom-ah-toes,” he says, waving a hand dismissively before gracefully folding back down into the circle. They’re all drinking from dainty ceramic teacups with matching saucers, and a spread of finger sandwiches and various snacks of lesser refinement sits in the center.
Manson pats the spot beside him, and everyone shifts over to make room for Mercy and Heath. Heath takes her hand to help her sit, then keeps holding it.
Annabel Lee arches a brow and glances at me. “I see some changes happened on the road.”
“Not really,” I say. “She’s still my girlfriend.”
“And mine,” Heath says with a feral grin.
“And mine,” Saint growls.
Ronique shudders, and some of the others gape at us.
Annabel Lee looks like she might say something, but then she just shrugs.
“Whatever works for you,” she says to Mercy.
“I won’t pretend to understand, but if you’re happy, and they’re happy, I can’t talk shit.
Hell, I’m still single, so who am I to judge?
I can’t find a boyfriend or a girlfriend, let alone three. ”
“Four,” Mercy mutters.
“And that’s why you don’t have a boyfriend,” Manson says to my cousin. “Mercy’s dating them all.”
They all laugh, and Heath reaches for the dip.
“We’ll take Jekyll up to the room and get him situated,” I say, since the cat has decided to take a nap in my arms. I turn to Saint. “You coming?”
We step out into the hall, and he pulls the door closed behind me.
“You could have stayed too,” I say quietly.
“I’m not bi, though,” he says. “I like girls. And Heath.”
“There’s your t-shirt slogan,” I joke as we head up to Mercy’s room.
“She should live with one of us,” Saint says as I open the door and check her room. “The Sinners are still on campus. Or they will be when Sinners Tower opens again.”
“If it isn’t condemned this time,” I say.
“Still,” he says. “I have a single suite. There’s plenty of room.”
“I see how it is,” I say. “You’re trying to have her all to yourself.”
“No,” he says, scowling. “I wouldn’t make her give up the people she loves for me.”
“And you wouldn’t give up Heath for her,” I say, nodding. “Just know, if she’s living there, you’re going to have all of us in your room all the time. You can’t be a grumpy bastard and sulk by yourself anymore.”
“I’ve had enough of being by myself,” he says. “Now let’s get her stuff moved.”
As I start to pack up her things, her handmade throw blankets and velvet pillows and threadbare teddy bear, each one a perfect representation of Mercy and all that she is, my heart swells with love for her.
I think it might explode if I get any happier.
I always wanted a love like my parents have, and I think I found it.
It might not look like theirs, but it looks like mine.
Like Mom said, I found someone worthy of loving, who loves me the way I want to be loved.
She lets me rest, lets me get away from the dark stuff I’ve had to deal with all my life.
With her, I don’t have to be a tough gangster.
I can be fun, can joke around, can love her with all I have, without her thinking I’m a pussy.
She’s my rest, my reprieve, the soft to my hard.
Not only that, but she lets me feel safe to be soft sometimes too.
She’s always happy to lay back and let me spoil her rotten, and she’s always appreciative when I give until she can’t take anymore.
And when I want a turn, she’s eager to give back.
She’s cozy like her room, nurturing and good and pure of heart, even when we defile her body in the most delicious ways.
I’m lucky I grew up with the example I did.
But even though I’ve always had a home to go back to, and it’s hard to top what I saw there, Mercy is my home.
She’s made a home for me in her heart, a heart big enough to hold not only me but all the members of the family she made, the family we all choose.