Chapter 19 #5
Ultimately, my desire for her overrides my need to scrub my skin until it bleeds.
“Raising a baby would be fun, I think,” Ash whispers drowsily, dreaming of a time where his father isn’t the greatest threat to his life and well-being. “I’ve never once thought about having a child. Not ever.”
“How does a kitten sound for now?” Scarlett replies, a wry smile in her voice. I can feel her lips move against my skin, stirring feelings much more powerful than my disgust.
“Two kittens.” Bohnes is the one who says that. “So they can play, murdering rodents as a team.”
“Do you think they’d try to eat Aspen?” Ash wonders, just in time for the frog to croak its agreement from the top of our dresser.
Having a frog and a terrarium in my room?
I’m getting used to it. Having kittens with a litter box?
That would be…it’s possible that Ash’s fastidiousness could pull it off.
“Strong lid on the terrarium. Maybe some double-sided tape as a deterrent. Cats would probably be more interested in the feeder crickets than the frog.” Bohnes muses all this aloud as Scarlett drifts off, leaving the four of us alone. “They’re very particular little killers.”
Widow hasn’t spoken a word, but it’s easy to tell that he’s awake based on his breathing. He’s on the edge of the mattress, facing away from the door, as far from Scarlett as is possible on the bed.
“Anything special you want for your birthday?” I ask, knowing that Adrian will understand that I’m talking to him. He shifts around, turning over to look at me through the dark. The first few nights that we slept in the same room, it was an adrenaline rush. A risky move.
It has the opposite effect now. Surviving our current circumstances is tricky. We need each other.
“I’ve got everything I want,” Widow murmurs back eventually, likely only talking to me since I believe both Ash and Bohnes have fallen asleep.
Without the alarm systems, the Crimson Crew on rotating guard-duty, and the sharp eyes of the family, we wouldn’t have the blessing to rest like this.
We’re very lucky. “Don’t forget: I was contemplating living in the Stingray. Of being homeless.”
“You’ll never be homeless, Adrian,” I reply easily, and he goes silent again for a long time.
“This feels weirdly like we’re family,” is his belated response. “A family of merry fucking freaks.”
I smile at that.
“Marry freaks,” I repeat, my own interpretation of his words. Tomorrow, the wedding. It feels like an upcoming cult ritual, and I’m not disturbed by that in the least. This is commitment at its highest levels, a rush of adrenaline and high-stakes. “Until death do us part.”
I feel Scarlett shiver against me with a laugh. Not asleep at all and alarmingly good at faking.
“This is a family. The family. Our own version of that. Our soft place to land.” Scarlett’s words are firm but wistful, a dream of a bigger thing.
The absolute true and complete feeling of belonging.
Because of what we are, because of our obsession and our unpredictability, everything is sharp-edged and vibrant.
Knowing that there will be hands to catch you when you fall, that’s what this is. Mama and Papa, they had this, too. I know everything. I anticipate our entire future together.
I trace my papa’s ring and the wedding band tattooed beneath it.
All of the people in this room belong to me now.
And I don’t like the idea of contaminated hands trying to lay a single finger on what’s mine.
“Your hands,” Scarlett murmurs, sitting up and reaching over me, rubbing her breasts against my body and turning me on all over again.
She takes a travel-size bottle of lotion from the drawer and squirts some into my palm.
I only use a brand-new bottle of lotion once, to keep things sanitary.
“So dry, from all that washing. I’ll take care of them for you. ”
The touch of her fingers gliding through the lotion on my skin is an ecstasy I never knew that I needed.
“That feels good,” I murmur, eyes closing. I’m absolutely covered in blood and fluids. One of the worst states I’ve ever been in. Yet I can’t summon the energy to leave. Scarlett makes a small sound, like a pleased laugh, luring me into a fog that feels awfully close to a dream.
“And now, sleep,” she commands once she’s finished, pressing a lotioned finger to the center of my forehead. Widow hasn’t said a word in a while, so I pause to listen in on his breathing. He’s out now as well. “You’re not allowed to shower until you do.”
“Impossible,” I breathe, running my fingers through the silk of her hair. I’m too busy planning to fall asleep. “Scarlett, we need to be very careful with Bohnes and Widow.” I pause there, considering Ash. He’s under mob protection technically.
So why do I find it difficult to believe that Jonas would ever let Ash live a happy life?
“And Ash,” Scarlett says, sounding grim.
“And Ash,” I agree, wishing I had the foresight to see where this was heading.
This room would feel different with only four people in it.