Chapter 26 #3
“Oh, boo. How boring.” Bohnes releases me, digging into his jacket pocket for clove smokes. He passes one out to both me and Widow, and I use Alexis’ stolen lighter with a lingering sadness that sits well on tonight’s cold wind.
Tonight, I’m saying goodbye to Prescott. That’s fine with me. I never wanted to stay here. But it’s sad, too.
If I let it, this dark world could consume me. I’d thrive in the underground. I’d rule in hell rather than serve in heaven.
Deadass I’ll just rule heaven as easily as I could do down here.
“Before I forget,” Bohnes adds, tugging a small red box from his pocket.
I give him a look, my cig clutched between two shaky fingers.
Getting inked always seems to drag the energy right outta me.
“I’ve been meaning to give this to you for days, but the timing hasn’t been right.
Don’t worry: I kept it in the refrigerator. ”
“Is this another severed dick?” Widow grumbles, inhaling the clove and closing his own eyes as he basks in the beautiful depravity of the night.
The buzz of the tattoo machine. The creak of the chair as Ash fidgets.
The wind in the trees. Alexei, snapping his latex and choking on the upcoming biohazard he’s about to subject himself to.
“I’m a little concerned, Kellin.” I accept the box anyway, cracking the lid and— Aw, hell.
There’s a human heart in this box. My eyes flick over to the tattoo artist, and I’m convinced she hasn’t seen a thing.
I offer my barely-touched cigarette to Widow, taking Bohnes by the wrist and dragging him away to the parking lot.
We stand between the Stingray and the Chevelle, all alone in the dark.
“Whose heart is this?” I ask, balancing the box on an outstretched palm. It weighs more than I expected, maybe a pound or so? The color is hard to make out in the dim light. It’s less red than I’d think it’d be.
Bohnes holds his cigarette between his teeth, placing both of his hands around mine as it clutches the box.
“As Alexis’ sister, you have a right to dictate how she’s buried. It’s not fair that you didn’t get to decide how her remains were handled. I couldn’t help but think you might want to bury her somewhere. Have a spot to visit.”
My mind empties as I drag the box in close, holding it to my chest. Bohnes lets his hands fall, taking the cigarette from his mouth and blowing smoke into the wind. That’s why these black clove cigarettes are so dangerous. They smell too damn good for my own good, all spicy and sweet and shit.
“How the fuck did you…?” I don’t bother to finish the question, Alexis’ lighter burning a hole in my pocket while her heart sits heavy in my hand. I could be freaked out by Bohnes’ latest gruesome gift. I’m not. I’m honored. I’m touched. I’m also ticked off. “Did you go back to that house?”
He chuckles softly, stepping forward to press a kiss to my temple.
“I did it when the flames were just getting started. I’m very quick at this sort of work.” Bohnes brushes a hand through my hair, pressing his forehead to mine. “You’re her family. You decide what to do with her.”
“Can we burn it when we get back to your place?” I ask, appreciating his efforts but knowing that ash is a lot safer to keep on my person than a literal human heart.
I’ll take Alexis’ ashes to our old family property, up on the reservation.
Can’t take a trip to California anytime soon, so it’ll have to wait.
“Of course, my gentle deviant.” Bohnes kisses me on the forehead again. He steps around me, heading back in the direction of our makeshift tattoo parlor to take Ash’s place in the chair.
With pursed lips and watery eyes of my own, I open the door to the Pantera and tuck Alexis’ heart into the same spot where I kept Cody’s dick—in the glovebox.
Ash is studying his hand when I return, wearing a ring of black scythe blades in ink around his finger. Two pairs of crescents with a full moon in the center. Can’t really tattoo all the way around the digit. Ink on that part of the hand never lasts. Still looks like a ring from the top though.
I take his hand, embers curling between our skin as we both shudder at the physical contact. Sleeping in the bed every night isn’t the same as fucking. I want more fucking. Touch is my love language, baby.
Widow smiles, putting his clove between his lips and leaning in toward me, the cherry of his cigarette crackling enticingly.
We’re standing oh so close. I want to race him almost as badly as I want to fuck him.
He hands me the cigarette I left with him, giving me a minute to tuck it between my lips before he relights it with his own smoke.
“You’re thinking of racing,” he says, and I smile around the slim black stick. The nicotine is a nice buzz tonight. The sweetness of the clove tastes like Christmas. First Christmas without my sister or my best friend. I exhale. First one with my boys.
“Yup,” I say, my eyes on Bohnes as the woman starts to ink him. I’m a little edgy about her touching him. Like a goddamn crazy person. I hate seeing other people touch what’s mine.
“I’m jealous that Ash knows what it feels like to kick your ass.” Widow says that and wisely steps back, using his own cigarette to point at me as Ash keeps his fingers tangled with mine. “Next time, I’ll beat you and I’ll do it all by myself.”
“Yeah? Good luck with that.” I spit at the ground near his feet, and Alexei wets his lips.
He looks at me and we both know he’s struggling between disgust and ardor.
Anyone else’s spit on the ground near his feet and they’d be dead—or at least living in agony with a needle shoved into their soft organs.
The clouds shift again. They keep moving, ferrying the spirits of all these dead Prescott girls into the next life. Goodbye, girls. I love you. I won’t stop until I’ve carved out your vengeance. I promise. I promise.
Chet Archer, Mayor Kelly, and Ernest Bolin are toast.
“Don’t need luck.” Widow leans back against the side of my car, arms folded, the cherry of his cigarette highlighting all the best features in his handsome face. “Skill will do,” he adds, teeth clenched around the smoke.
Bohnes rises from the chair in a flurry of black trench coat, examining the pair of crescents on either side of the bone ink.
Oh. That looks nice. He has the same full moon ink between the first pair of sickles, just can’t see it.
Doesn’t matter. It’s there, and I know it’s there, and that’s all I need.
Ash leans over to look, comparing their designs. Other than Bohnes having an, uh, bone running through the middle of his, they’re identical.
“What on the gods’ dessicated earth have I gotten myself into?” Kellin murmurs as Ash peers down at the designs with dread. He wants to belong. Just doesn’t want to get anyone killed for the privilege.
Slam. My rib cage cracks from the force of that expression against my heart. I’m oozing a little.
Ash lifts his attention to me, the sword on his back, announcing itself over his left shoulder.
“Keep calm and carry on,” I tell him, offering his shoulder a pat. He snorts at me. Close enough to a laugh to be satisfying. “Alright, germaphobe. Get that taut ass over here.”
“Best get this over with.” Alexei folds himself into the chair, using his free hand to play with that sharp metal thimble. Underneath the cap, there’s poison that can drop a man. He handles it like a fidget spinner. What a boss.
Alexei sits perfectly still, like his emotions are choices. He’s got goose bumps. He’s sweating. But he’s also completely and utterly motionless. His eyes are on mine, like he’s waiting for something.
He asked for a wedding night alone, later. Tonight might be a wedding night, period.
My breath hitches and I shudder, picking Lem’s box of ashes up off the edge of the folding table. Nisha took a third. Basti took a third. I used most of my own portion to mix into the tattoo ink. Opening the lid, I shake what’s left of Lemon into the wind.
The cloud of dust settles into the track, nestled in the very heart of Prescott.
“I need everyone to get tested as soon as possible.” Those are the words that come out of Alexei’s mouth. Huh? I quirk a sassy brow. Alexei’s highbred lips are twisted with disgust and he swallows like he’s trying to put down a mouthful of rocks.
“Tested?” I repeat, completely and utterly confused. Widow holds his cigarette between two fingers and gives the rich boy an odd look.
“You know I was a virgin before Scarlett though, right?” he says, completely unconcerned by Treasure’s cousin with her headphones on. She’s rocking out, and while I wouldn’t put it past her to collect a little goss, she knows what I’ll do to her if she uses anything she hears tonight the wrong way.
Alexei does not look like he knew that about Widow. He seems surprised.
“I was also—” he begins, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand.
“Everyone knows you were a virgin, Marie. And I was a virgin before Bohnes and him before me. Yeah, yeah. So what’s the point of—” I stop talking and we all look over at Ash in unison.
I fucking can’t believe he had sex with someone who wasn’t me once upon a time. How dare he? I don’t care if it was only once. If that girl wasn’t already dead— Gross. Gross, Scarlett. Yuck. I shake it off.
“Regardless of all that, we’ve been exposed to pathogens in our…
line of work.” Alexei swallows again, likely thinking of the blood that sprayed across the mayor’s mansion and gave us a bit of a red rainstorm.
Or maybe about the needle that’s injecting my dead friend into his finger. “I would like us all to get tested.”
Ash’s eyes are thunderstorms, lashing rain and wild lightning in pitch-black irises. And that mouth? A demons’ bargain.
“Seems reasonable enough,” he says, his eyes on mine. He knows what I’m thinking about. Knows I’m jealous. Looks adorably repentant. Tad smug, too.