Chapter 54
“S o you do have a heart, but it’s solely beating for Dalia,” Sylas said as the first Guardians cross-country team had just crossed the finish line near the lake.
“I didn’t threaten you,” I pointed out, the cacophony of cheering voices grating on my nerves. “I could, but I didn’t. Just like I want to punch you, but I don’t. I’m making an effort here.”
“Is it true you’re sending her ribbons each day?”
I cocked my head to the side and flashed my teeth. “As much as it’s true that you’re fucking my best friend, so I’d say we’re even.” Forty-eight ribbons, painstakingly chosen to match the exact shade of her eyes. Music titles that reminded me of her, carefully selected—and returned, torn to shreds, by her door. Which was a good sign—it meant she was probably still pissed. And the birthday cake I made Miguel bake because cooking wasn’t one of my main talents? Well, that was a disaster. She threw it out her window; half the pigeons and crows on campus had a sugar overdose, thanks to her.
As for now, Sylas, her self-appointed guardian angel, was really starting to get on my nerves.
“Help the asshole out, for god’s sake! He keeps bragging about her, and it’s ruining all of our boys’ nights,” Kay chimed in, attempting to lure his boyfriend back with a coy smirk and a clingy grip on his arm. “I want my friend back. Please, Sylas.”
I still didn’t understand what he saw in him. Sylas was as dull as a doorknob, while Kay was the epitome of a diva.
“Why are you doing this?” Sylas puffed up like a peacock, his eyes flitting back and forth across the finish line, a smug smile plastered on his face.
I cast a quick glance over my shoulder. Dalia was charging toward the finish line, her Unifier green shirt billowing around her, obscuring her shorts. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair a wild mess framing her determination.
The sight of her gasping for breath got my dick pulsing in my trousers. Checking the scoreboard, I noted her team had clinched second place. As Dalia collapsed upon crossing the line, her relay teammate, Yasmine, rushed to her side. It seemed all her training and our little morning chases had paid off.
“Dalia has never celebrated her birthday before,” I finally answered Sylas, tearing my gaze away from her to fix on him. “She’d want this.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he muttered begrudgingly. “I’ll do it for her, not for you.”
“Great.”
I brushed past him and loomed away from the crowd. I strode toward Cillian, who was reclining against a tree alone. He was immersed in yet another one of his interminable books—this one about Bobby Fischer.
“Desperation suits you,” he quipped, his usual stoic demeanor cracking for a moment.
I snatched the book from his grasp, sending it tumbling to the grass. His chuckle followed me as I strode back inside, knowing that all that was left now was to wait.
About an hour later, my delicate butterfly fluttered into our rendezvous spot by the lake, clad in butterfly boots and an oversized white sweater. Two matching ribbons of mine adorned her hair. She fired her eyes at me, halting in her tracks.
“Sylas is a terrible liar. You can’t manipulate my friends into doing your dirty work.”
“I’ll win them over eventually,” I retorted, though dealing with Sylas would always be a pain. “But today is about you.”
It was her birthday, after all. That was why I had to break our little routine. I could sense she was opening up to me more and more every day. It was time to act.
“What’s this thing?” She frowned, pointing at the pi?ata of a man hanging from the tree. “Is that supposed to be you?”
“The less handsome version of me, yes.” I handed her the bat I had concealed behind my back. “I thought you’d like the opportunity to destroy me and kick me in the nuts.”
She smiled, took the bat, and chopped the pi?ata’s head off. I winced. She didn’t hold back. Then she mercilessly bashed the pi?ata’s lack of balls, sending candies scattering across the grass.
“I feel much better, thank you. Can I leave now?” She dropped the bat, wiping her hands and raising an eyebrow.
I was so into it. Just like our morning chases always got me hard as fuck, and although I usually tended to my cock like a prepubescent teenager the moment I passed my dorm, now wasn’t the right time to entertain my daily Dalia fantasies.
“Is the idea of spending one hour with me so horrendous?”
She didn’t reply and chewed the inside of her cheeks. Lying wasn’t her forte—probably a Unifier trait.
“I didn’t buy you a gift because I assumed you’d either rip it apart or throw it out your window.”
She smiled, so innocent, yet so vicious at the same time. “You assumed correctly.”
I handed her my credit card. “So instead, I’m giving you my credit card, and before you complain, it’s not about money. It’s about power.” I licked my lips and loomed toward her. “Spend all of my money. Destroy my future, I don’t care. I’ll find a way to rise up from the ashes, because if there’s one thing I know, I’d hate being poor. So ruin my life. Buy yourself a house, a private jet, or an opera.”
Someday she’d allow me to give her gifts she wouldn’t destroy. Her eyes sparked. Dalia didn’t care much about money, but I did, and right now the prospect of hurting me was entertaining to her. Once she judged she had made me suffer enough, and her anger vanished, maybe we would be able to cross the next step in our relationship.
“What if I give your money to associations since I know how uncaring and egocentric you are?” She tugged the card in the pocket of her pink ruffle skirt. “I’ll do my worst.”
“I would have expected nothing less from you,” I said. “Plus, you’re helping my karma. What did I do to deserve you?”
She laughed. I’d missed that laugh. “You’re a psycho, you know that right?”
“Only for you.”
“Why are you doing this?”
I shrugged. “It’s a romantic gesture.”
“Trying to buy me out with money is romantic?”
Was she expecting me to buy her flowers like an uncreative prick? It was too simple, too easy, and it meant nothing. No, I had to do worse.
I twirled a strand of her hair between my fingers. “I’m giving you the second thing I cherish the most: my control.”
“Why not the first thing, then?”
Oh, she thought she was so smart, eyeing me her raised brow.
“The first is you,” I dropped, and her eyes landed on my lips.
“I loathe you, Levi.”
She thought I couldn’t see the way she crossed her fingers behind her back. She always did that when she lied. She wanted to push my boundaries as much as I pushed hers, and she would get exactly what she asked for.
“And I’ve never felt better about it because you see…” It was my turn to land my eyes on her glossy pink lips. “I’ll take everything from you but your indifference. I trust your love will come eventually because I won’t stop.”
“You’re insane.” She wore a slight smile, though.
I’d missed that smile, too.
“From the looks of it, I already have your desire back?” I raised a brow, implying her little masturbating session when she’d moaned my name. Unfortunately, by then, I was already done for, but this moment would have definitely thrown me over the edge. Not that she ever reiterated this experience. It was our little secret.
Her cheeks turned pink. “You’re delusional.”
“You’re listing all of my qualities today.”
She narrowed her eyes and held out her hand. “Friends?”
“That’s torture, what you’re asking me,” I groaned, straightening my spine and accepting her hand anyway. “But I’ll accept that torment if that doesn’t imply stopping my fantasies about you. I’m at thirty-eight pages so far. It’s terrifying; I should write a book. I could email you a copy if you’d like? Do you dream about me sometimes?”
She skipped into the grass. “Only that I’m strangling you in your sleep.”
“I could make that dream come true, but let’s be clear, I’m your friend .” That word tasted bitter in my mouth as I followed her. “But I’m still me.”
“What does that mean?”
“That if you’re thinking about dating someone, you’ll break me. So in exchange, I’ll break his bones one by one, but not before I ruin him with my tech skills. It’d be a shame to put them to waste now that the world knows what my alias can do.”
“You really have a huge ego,” she cursed, shaking her head.
“Is that the only huge thing about me?” I couldn’t miss the opportunity. I was a man after all, and we all had our dumb moments—even with a genius brain.
She pointed a finger at me and grimaced. “Stop, this is not a friendly topic. You really don’t change.”
“Not with you; I’m too possessive for that. You’re the only woman I’ll ever want for the rest of my life. I can’t change that, so I’m sorry for you.”
“So why did you really ask me here? I won’t go on a date with you, Levi. I’m not ready for that yet.”
She said yet.
“I know. Come,” I said, guiding her to the coffee place by the lake. “Don’t you think you deserve a moment off from training for the audition?”
“So you’re still stalking me every place I go?”
“Does that disturb you?”
I liked watching her. It was peaceful.
“No.” She swallowed, gazing away. “Your presence feels safe.”
Safe. It sent a spasm to my heart.
Her eyes met mine, her fingers fidgeting together. “But have you ever thought about what you’ll be doing after Pantheon? In a few months, you’ll be done, so you’ll… leave, right? While I have two more years.”
“I figured that part out already,” I said. Her eyes widened, and I knew the question was coming, so I cut her off. “I’ll tell you when the time is right.”
Meaning she’d know about my little work project and life plan after she passed her audition. My therapist’s advice was for each of us to work on ourselves before being together blah, blah, blah.
Her phone beeped, and she read through it. Right—I’d have to fight for Dalia’s attention on this day.
“It’s my father,” she mumbled. “He wishes me a happy birthday. He’s under house arrest, but his judgment will still take months.”
I still loathed him. I couldn’t get the idea that this man would someday become my father-in-law. “Are you talking to him?”
“Not really. I told him I needed space before the audition.”
I nodded as we arrived in front of the café, which was in the shape of an old half-timbered mill. “Push the door open.”
“God, I hope you won’t lock me with you in here, or if it’s one of your schemes to—”
She swung the door open, and the collective cheer of her friends resounded, “Happy birthday!”
“You should enjoy your birthday,” I whispered to her. “Because as soon as you allow me to make you mine again, you’ll be celebrating with me, and I don’t share, Dalia.”
“You organized this for me?”
What she meant was “you succeeded in gathering them all here without murdering anyone?”
“A wise woman and my therapist told me once if I wanted to have you back, I’d need to grovel, whatever that means, so I think that’s what I’m doing,” I said, referring to the moment I had made the mistake of calling her grandma to invite her today. It ended in a two-hour call about how if I were to hurt her granddaughter again, she’d bury me alive in the coffin that she had already tailor-made for me.
That was a sweet gesture, but even death couldn’t separate me from Dalia. I had already requested to be buried next to her, preferably in the same coffin, under a vault I’d build in her name, like a goddess the mortals would pray to. Some would call this creepy. I called it romantic. Dalia would never die. I wouldn’t allow it. She deserved immortality, one way or another.
“This is wonderful, thank you so much!” She went to hug her grandma, claiming the center spot, drinking beers with Sylas, some Unifiers, and a Guardian dude from her music class.
I claimed a seat in a secluded corner. By then, she must have known I liked to watch more than participating in those social things. Tara had the same idea as me, standing alone at the bar, adopting a facade of disinterest as she tapped her foot on the ground.
“Welcome to the losers’ corner,” Tara said with a mocking smile.
“No one forced you to come. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you actually like Dalia,” I countered.
She grimaced. “This is ridiculous, I’m leaving.”
“Tara!” Her sister rushed to her, taking her hand. “Come with us!”
Tara’s stern facade crumbled while she, her sister, and Dalia entered a dance circle.
Just like her music, my broken doll made the world beautiful.
I spent the entire night observing the radiant smiles that adorned her face while she celebrated amid the family she had carefully assembled for herself.
By the end of the night, she had spent 3.7 million from my bank account and made me a philanthropist.
That’s my good girl.