Chapter 33
“MY STRANGE ADDICTION” BY BILLIE EILISH
Iended up in the choir room not long after being crucified by Mr. Evers for missing another practice. Something about writing original songs for the showcase. Everyone was excited, but I couldn’t stand the idea of trying to fit my thoughts all down on a sheet of paper.
I loved music. At least, I thought I did. I enjoyed listening to music, feeling music, and falling into a deep ditch of feelings based on what tunes I could give myself over to in the moment.
Piano lessons were a must when I was younger—piano, gymnastics, archery, and all the joyous methods of killing people. I learned everything I needed to learn. Well, besides how to be a decent human being.
My eyes were closed as the piano keys filled the choir room with the perfect melody, a Billie Ellish song. I wanted to play around with some newer, more modern tunes that littered the pile of sheet music on the piano.
At some point, I started singing. I shouldn’t have, but this was the choir room, and I didn’t expect anyone other than the Spirit Hunters to join me.
I hadn’t expected to hear a sniffle behind me.
My hands lifted off the keys, and I looked over my shoulder to see Quinntessa staring down at the floor, tears covering her cheeks. I raised up from piano bench in seconds and glanced out the hallway to see if anyone was following her.
I swore to Satan, I would beat that fucker blue if he put his hands on her.
“Sorry, I—” Quinntessa’s bottom lip quivered.
Instead of waiting for her to explain, my chest throbbed with the need to comfort her. I took advantage and did exactly what I had weeks ago when I broke into her home.
I wrapped my arms around her and shoved my face into her hair. She tensed and didn’t hug me back at first, her hands shaking against my stomach as she touched me uncertainly.
My fingers toyed with the baby curls on the back of her neck, my other hand rubbing her hip as I circled her waist. She gasped quietly in surprise but leaned into me.
“Why can’t I leave you alone for a few hours without finding you falling apart, Sal?” I teased in her ear.
My lips brushed the pink skin of her earlobe. It took all my strength not to kiss her face. I could feel her blush climbing up her neck into my hand. My nose nudged her curls, and I inhaled sneakily, melting from the inside out when she genuinely smelled of honey and flowers.
I felt her fingers brush my stomach over my belly button. A hand glided up along my abdomen before moving up my side and circling to my back. She relaxed more into my embrace, a soft whimper leaving her as I rubbed my cheek against her head.
Oh, fuck, that sound. I could drop to my knees right there.
I didn’t know Yankee Doodle much. Being completely honest, I’d tried very hard to push her away. I knew she was from New York. I knew her dad was a cop. I knew our parents hated each other. And now, I knew my father killed her grandfather to become who he was today.
I knew she liked pink and red. She had a funny admiration for the baby blue tint of her sleek Mustang. Sally liked her coffee with lots of sugar or she made faces at the taste. She liked vanilla more than chocolate and told people she didn’t like caramel, yet she ate it any way.
Football. Dog. Plants. Music. Corny jokes and cute dance moves. I didn’t know much about her. I knew the baseline. I knew the horizon.
If the sun set, I would be the darkness haunting her. There was no one in her world worse than me. I was poison to her entire existence.
And all I wanted to do was hold her tighter and tighter.
Her uneven breathing slowly settled, and her head leaned into my shoulder. Her fingers grasped my jacket, her legs brushing mine.
I gently ran a finger down her spine and bit my lip when I reached the top of her high-waisted belt. I removed my hand hastily and returned it to her hair, not wanting her to catch me admiring the curves of her body.
This was an innocent hug. Quinntessa and her sweet face needed comfort, and I was a dick thinking about her breasts pressed against me, how her hips felt under my fingers. She was fucking beautiful, and I was falling into this deep, muddy pit I wouldn’t be able to climb out of later.
I tilted my head to get a better look at her face, only to find her eyes closed. She melted against me, her brows pressed into my collarbone, much like she had that awful night I almost . . . My stomach was sick thinking about it.
She almost died because of me. I almost killed her. If I killed her, I would have left her there to bleed out while her father came home to the cooling body of his only child.
His sweet little girl. His princess. His beautiful, honey-eyed beauty.
I was a beast.
My throat felt sore as I gulped down the lump stuck in my throat. I pressed my cheek into the top of her head and played with her hair, staring off into the distance as I replayed the idea of dancing with her in my room.
My eyes shot down to hers as she suddenly took an unsteady breath, tears slipping from her glittery lashes. Damn this girl and her glitter. I’d never get this off me or my jacket.
“Baby . . .” The nickname fell from my lips so carefully. I could hear the softness of my tone and blamed it on the way Quinntessa hid her face in my chest.
Look at me. I just wanted her to open those pretty eyes and let me see how beautiful they were.
I needed that memory. I needed the sight to save me from the dark thoughts pushing me to return to the train tracks, wishing for me to disappear into the woods with my gun now that Dominik couldn’t stop me.
I needed her. I needed her to open her eyes and remind me of something dark that made my heart race.
Mustang’s fingers dug into my jacket. I couldn’t believe we’d been hugging this long. It made my head spin, but I didn’t pull away. I wrapped my arms further around her and shoved my face into her neck. My eyes closed so her bouncy, loose curls could lie on my face.
Her hands moved along the leather of my back. I felt her trace a star or two, then trail her nails over the tail of my Q.
I audibly exhaled when she dug her nails into my jacket and clutched the material, pulling me even closer to her. I wouldn’t complain. I wanted her. I wanted her near me.
“Quincy,” she quietly whispered.
I leaned back and blinked away my fogginess. I pouted my lip ever so slightly and observed her red, puffy eyes.
“That was really… You’re really good at that.”
I shook my head. “No, no, I’m?—”
“Yes,” she interrupted me. “Yes. Everything you touch is just . . .”
Seeing my chance to be as corny as Quinntessa, I smiled down at her and gently took her chin between my fingers. I pulled it up until our eyes met, her lips at the perfect angle to kiss if I wished.
“Pretty?” I whispered, leaning down slightly, as if I had the courage to kiss such perfect lips.
I didn’t have it. I could imagine a world where I leaned down and kissed her, delicately picking her up and placing her down on the piano top. She’d find that romantic, and I’d think it was Hallmark quality bullshit, but I’d do it for her.
Why? I didn’t quite understand it yet. I’d never felt this way before.
I knew I wanted to be here, close to her, my hands running over her silky skin. I wanted to drool over those glossy lips and fight against glitter for the rest of my life. She had me in a chokehold I couldn’t escape. All I wanted to do was touch her, tangle my fingers in her hair and kiss her.
I stared deeply into her eyes and felt my knees quiver. My hand cupped her jaw, nails scratching the underside teasingly. I wanted to kiss there. I wished I could back her up against the door and have my way with her.
My feet shuffled closer, and my arm gripped her waist from behind. She blushed, just as deeply as all the other times, and she brushed her fingers along my hips.
Inhaling deeply, I felt her hands on my sides, her eyes flickering over my face.
How long could we stand here, touching each other, staring at each other?
My head dipped down slightly. My confidence grew enough to lean in, but Quinntessa looked down. Rejection flashed through me, a tsunami of hurt. She leaned into me for a second before stepping back from me entirely.
Awkwardly, I took the chance to step away from her further and fixed my jacket. I observed the way she fixed her hair, and I stuffed my hands into my leather coat.
Way to tease a girl, Mustang.
“Why were you so worried about being in choir?” Quinntessa asked, chewing her bottom lip.
My eyes fell to the movement. I gulped when she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to settle the earthquake within my stomach.
“You’re amazing, Quinn,” she quietly added.
“Amazing, huh?” I couldn’t stop the grin that took over my face, standing tall with pride.
Quinntessa’s eyes swam with mischievousness as she smiled to herself and shrugged, looking away from me.
“Well, I don’t know. I don’t want it going to your big head that you’re that good.”
“Ohhh.” I laughed, taking a small step forward. The pull to be close to her was suffocating. “Right. Right.”
My smile fell slightly as she reached up and brushed tears away from her face. I gulped, the ringing in my ears reminding me of my vow to the mob.
How much time did I have before Valentine’s Day? Was it enough to feel true happiness before I had to give it all up? I was not sure.
“I hate seeing you so sad, Sally,” I confessed, tugging my eyes up from the red heart over her chest. “Were you looking for somewhere to cry alone? I know a place.”
The roof. I could take her to the roof where no one would go. Then we could . . . talk.
I swallowed as flashes of Simon and Jamison filled my head. Simon’s brown eyes haunted me as I took a small step back away from Quinntessa.
“No, I . . .” She ran her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes. “I’m okay. You just reminded me of my mom; it’s not a great subject for me.”
“Oh.” I blinked.