Chapter 23 #2
Aspen nods quickly. “I know, right? I made the playlist for Corvus. Dalton told me this was your favorite band?” He gets up and points to the wall, and only then I notice he’s plastered Corpselock posters all over.
Does this mean Dalton’s been in touch with Aspen as well as my mother?
God knows what they could be talking about behind my back.
“I even dressed in your honor and everything,” Aspen adds, gesturing at his outfit.
It’s a goth version of his usual getup, and I guess slightly classier too?all black apart from a few white and red accents like the stripes on the side of his sweatpants and the patches on his open hoodie.
He’s wearing a spiky leather collar with a bejeweled cross hanging from it.
It’s both ridiculous and the best I’ve seen him look in years, but he doesn’t deserve a compliment.
I do like Corpselock though, and my gaze drifts to Dalton’s face. He grins, throws his big arms around my neck and kisses the top of my head, as if I’m a cute puppy. “You’re eerily observant.”
“One of his best traits for the job,” Remo tells me, making Aspen scoot over, so he’s the one nearest to the laptop. “I kid you not, Cross never forgets a face.”
Dalton smirks. “I need to know who to kick out.”
“You didn’t even like this band.”
He shrugs. “But you do.”
Damen holds up his palms. “Don’t worry, Corvus, Dalton had his own request.”
Oh, now I’m worried.
“What kind of request?” I ask, trying to appear relaxed. At least the shots have already kicked in, and the world’s a bit fuzzy around the edges.
Damen gets up and walks up to a wall opposite our booth. It’s covered with a black cloth and I dread to think what’s behind it. “Well, Dalton wanted games, so here we go.”
He pulls on the fabric, for dramatic effect, to reveal a black and white dart board.
My heart stops pounding. Okay, I can play a game of darts. Why not?
Damen glances at Killian with a smirk, but then back at us. “We called this ‘Dart to the Heart’.”
Dalton’s eyes widen, just like his grin. “Oh fuck! What is it?”
Damen pushes back a stray lock of wavy hair with a self-satisfied smile.
“Simple. We’ll be taking turns with the darts.
You hit the middle area,” he presents the circle around the bullseye, “you’re safe.
Outside of that, you hit white, you have to answer a question truthfully, you hit a black, you do a dare.
If you don’t want to answer a question, you have to do a dare and take a shot. ”
Killian sits straighter. “We also workshopped ‘Truth or Dart’ but it didn’t incorporate the dare part right.”
Only now I notice Remo has been whispering with Aspen, and the music once more turns to Corpselock, though this time at a volume that allows us to hear one another.
I actually…appreciate they thought about including my taste in music into this party, and it makes me shuffle closer to Dalton.
Even though I’m going to marry him in less than two weeks, I’m still self-conscious about touching him among other people, and while I try to treat myself with understanding, it also pisses me off.
If a lifetime of hiding didn’t change me, I might as well embrace myself, and if this makes me happier then—
Damen clears his throat. “Going first, since Dalton’s currently glued to his fiancé.”
“It’s hard not to be!” Dalton laughs and pulls on my ear with his teeth. It’s both embarrassing and makes me feel like a teenager again so I don’t stop him.
Damen backs away to a spot marked on the floor and takes his sweet time aiming, but still ends up with a dart on a white. I guess darts isn’t the same as throwing knives.
Killian and Aspen bang on the table, and Dalton joins in.
Is it childish? Yes, but then again… I’m just happy to see him excited.
He doesn’t have any family left and told me that the guys he’s slept with don’t usually want to stay friends if there’s no benefits.
He’s such a social guy that he misses a sense of connection.
If it takes my family to give him that, then so be it.
“Oh! I know!” Killian grins and takes a swig of beer. “Have you ever had a crush on a cousin?”
“What kind of question is that?” I ask, finishing my whisky in record time. Remo is there to fill my glass, and he clinks his own against it.
“I say Killian must know something we don’t.”
Killian shrugs. “Okay, you’re right. I framed the question incorrectly. Thanks for that. So, which cousin did you have a crush on?”
Aspen lets out a delighted shriek, then pulls his feet up to the seat and covers his mouth with both hands, as if he needs to physically stop himself from saying something extremely inappropriate.
Which this question already was. Damen is likely boiling on the inside.
He gives himself time to recover by taking a shot, then spins to face us like the hero of a romance novel about to deliver a heartfelt dialogue. “I shall start by saying it was very long ago, and nothing happened.”
Okay? So, who was it?
Damen refills his glass and comes closer, poking his drink against mine with a wide smile. “Almost kissed you on the carousel one Christmas.”
The cool glass almost slides through my fingers. “What… what?”
“No waaay,” Aspen speaks, rocking back and forth on the sofa like a ball of glee. “Sooo… did your type change so much over the years?” he asks, gesturing between Killian and myself, as if that was the weirdest thing about what I’ve just heard.
Damen shakes his head. “There was a time when Corvus was very much into having fun, and making people ogle him. He even had a mohawk.”
Dalton’s eyes look like they’re about to fall out of his sockets. “No way! I need to know everything.”
No, he definitely doesn’t need to know everything about a past that almost led to my death, but what Damen said is real, nevertheless.
Damen chuckles. “I was going to save this reveal for another game, later on, but I even have a picture.”
Dalton shoots to his feet, laughing. “Show me, show me!”
To my terror, Damen goes over to a box under the wall of posters and pulls out a photo. I don’t try to stop him, because the wheels are in motion and the outcome is inevitable. I’d only seem ridiculous if I fight it at this point.
I get a glimpse from my seat, but I know exactly what photo Dalton’s looking at. Aspen’s climbing over Killian for a better look.
We were all teens under Remo’s supervision, even though he’d barely turned eighteen back then.
The photo was taken before a Corpselock concert, and half the people in it didn’t even care for the music.
I’ve got a black mohawk that flops to the side, because I didn’t use enough hair spray, and a full face of corpse paint.
One of my eyes is smudged because I rubbed it, forgetting I was wearing makeup.
“This one’s you? Really?” Dalton asks, amazed, and I’m fighting the heat rushing to my face by imagining fresh corpses. Such an embarrassment, and worst of all—it was the last outing before wheels of fate went into motion, and I lost the ground under my feet.
“He has the same nose, so I suppose so,” I tell Dalton.
“Wow. Didn’t know I had such a rebel on my hands.”
Dalton’s urged to go next, and when he hits next to the bullseye, he does a little victory lap around the bar, grabbing a drink on the way. His happiness is infectious, and I shouldn’t care, but it makes me so proud that the guys seem to like him.
When Remo throws a dart, it ends up in white, and Damen sits back with a smirk, the first one to ask.
“So now that we know you’re gay, what’s your deal, Remo? What’s your type? Do you have someone in another city or something?”
“Only one question!” Aspen pipes up like he’s law-abiding all of a sudden.
“Okay, okay. What’s your type?”
I can’t help myself and lean my head on my victor’s shoulder as I eye my newly outed cousin stand there with a fading black eye, and both hands on his hips.
I don’t know what to expect. He’s never introduced me to anyone, regardless of gender, and I’m not stupid enough to believe any stereotypes would apply to a guy like him.
I’m almost disappointed when instead of answering a question he takes a long drink and eyes Dalton. “So, what’s the dare?”
Aspen whistles, all red-faced. “Oh, fuck! That freaky?”
Okay, he’s a little idiot, but I’ve drunk enough tonight to laugh.
Dalton opens his mouth but Killian is the first to speak. “Strip and dance for us!”
This time even Aspen makes a face. “He’s my cousin, man!”
Killian shrugs. “Well, he’s not mine.”
Dalton snorts. “Sorry, boss, I wanna see that.”
Strangely, I’m not even jealous. It just seems like a way to poke fun at Remo, who might be regretting his choices. Still, once a more sensuous ballad comes on, he gives up on trying to wait it out and stirs his hips.
It’s weird to see him do it. Still, by the time Remo’s shirt is off, and he pulls out his belt, I’m almost ready to call quits on the performance.
But he seems to have gotten into it and produces a metal baseball bat he must have had propped against the back of the booth.
He straddles it, rocking his hips to the rhythm.
As the guys roar in laughter, even I let out a chuckle.
“This makes me remember that time we went to Ithaca together, and the guy noticed I wanted to inject him,” I say, staring at the bat.
Remo stops dancing and puts the bat across his wide shoulders. Only now I notice he… has his nipples pierced. It feels inappropriate to even look at them.
“Ah, good old days,” he says. “Can’t say I’m mad about having to step in. My first kill. Maybe that’s when I developed a fondness for the bat? Messy, but fun and efficient. Provides that fear factor for onlookers as well.”
Oh yeah, he’d smashed that guy’s head to a pulp when the bastard attacked me. “Was that the day you found your calling?”
“All thanks to you, cousin.”