Death's Curses

by Becca Fox

  It was a testament to how tired and achy she was feeling when she didn’t scold him for turning her down. Instead, she nodded and followed my mom.

  “I trust you to see him out, Esmeralda.”

  “You can count on me,” I said with a salute she didn’t see.

  We stayed standing only long enough to see my aunt disappear up to the second story. Then we dropped back into the plastic-covered couch. I groaned and Charles exhaled with enough force to make his lips flap.

  “Holy shit,” I said, stretching the words out as long as I could. “I need a drink.”

  “That was exhausting.” Charlie leaned his elbows on his knees and scrubbed his face. “I need a nap.”

  “You were amazing.” I sat up to rub his back. “The way you handled Hunter.” I gave a little whistle. “So friggin’ impressive. So hot.”

  I was rewarded with the tiniest of smiles.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” After giving him a peck on the cheek, I reached for my crutches. “Come on. Let’s unwind.”

  By “unwind,” of course, I meant finishing off the rest of the sour cream pudding cake while taking turns with the can of whipped cream. We sat across from each other on my bed with the plate of cake between us, each armed with a spoon. Led Zeppelin played quietly on my phone while we shared memories of nights that might’ve been worse than tonight.

  Charlie squirted some whipped cream into his mouth and hummed as if he’d just remembered something. He swallowed the foamy white deliciousness before handing over the can. “North Precinct’s Christmas party, right after we moved to Seattle. Uncle Vic was asked to play Santa. Sitter called out sick at the last minute so Jasmine and I had to go with him. It was the first time we’d visited the precinct and we were the only kids there. I swear the DJ scratched the vinyl he was playing when the three of us walked in. Let’s just say the music he’d been playing hadn’t been appropriate for our poor, little virgin ears.”

  I groaned sympathetically while chewing.

  Charlie’s shudder made his whole body convulse. “The whole night was awkward as hell.” He spooned up some more cake before gesturing to me. “Your turn.”

  “I once walked in on my brother and his girlfriend getting it on. She thought I was there to join them.” I grinned at Charlie’s look of horror. “Top that.”

  He lowered his spoon over the plate. “Well, I just lost my appetite.”

  I chuckled, and then sprayed one last dollop of whipped cream into my mouth before setting the can aside. Then I stretched my arms up above my head and fell back into the mattress. When he didn’t join me right away, I reached out and grasped at the empty air, the universal sign for “gimmie.”

  Charlie moved the plate with the last bit of cake out of the way and then crawled over to lie down next to me. I was warm and comfy and full. With his arms around me, I was starting to feel drowsy. I pressed my face into the collar of his shirt and closed my eyes.

  “So you’re really not going back to Boston?”

  I felt the vibrations in his throat against my forehead. It made me smile. “Nope.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, it’s your home. Seattle is just where I am.”

  I peered up at him, poking a finger against his sternum. “I said I wasn’t going nowhere and I meant it. Besides, Boston hasn’t been home since my dad died. Now it’s just where Hunter and the gang are. You know, people I’d rather not see ever again. I love my mom, don’t get me wrong, but I can’t live with the choices she’s made.” I drew little circles over his flannel. The next few words I had to say were slowly making their way up my throat, sending signal flares of nerves and awkwardness and embarrassment through my body. But they needed to be said so I forged on. “Being here, with you and Aunt Dinah, has made me feel happy and safe for the first time in a long time. I ain’t giving that up for nothing.”

  Charlie tilted my chin up so I could see the enormous grin on his face. “Esmer, I—” Next thing I knew, he was kissing me, squeezing me so hard that my ribs hurt and my knee complained.

  I gasped against his lips.

  He immediately let go. “Christ! I’m sorry.”

  “It’s a’ight,” I said with a laugh.

  Charlie touched my forehead with his, still wearing that big smile. “I adore you, Esmeralda Barnes.”

  I’d felt a little thrill when I’d told him that. Hearing him say those words back to me was even better.

  Before I knew it, we were making out again, more fiercely and more urgently than ever. I couldn’t kiss him long enough, squeeze his hair tight enough, or hold him close enough to satisfy my sudden visceral need to be a part of him. Wrapped up in his body. At the mercy of his curious hands and ravenous lips.

  I had never felt like this with Marty.

  It was like being tossed outside, into the freezing rain. The fire in my gut winked out. Because there had been a time when Marty had made me feel like that.

  The night I lost my virginity, Marty had been irresistibly sweet and attentive. I’d believed that he loved me, that he would always treat me so tenderly. He was a completely different person the second time around. Demanding. Forceful. Downright terrifying. I remembered crying myself to sleep that night, hugging my torso as tightly as I could, afraid that I’d fall apart if I didn’t. I’d felt like my soul had been torn to shreds. He’d drained everything I had and then walked away like it meant nothing.

  I tried talking to him about it. He apologized, made excuses, said it wouldn’t happen again. But it did. From that moment onward, he hadn’t been afraid to show me who he truly was. There had been no need to pretend anymore. I’d proven I was gullible enough to believe his lies, so desperate for love and acceptance and belonging that I’d give him my all. I knew I couldn’t break up with him, not without getting the same treatment as any other gang deserter. So I created an armor of apathy. Did whatever he wanted to keep his Mr. Hyde personality at bay. When I found out he was sleeping with any other willing bitch in the neighborhood, I forced myself not to care. It was the only way to survive our relationship. Until the day my mom gave Hunter permission to send me to Seattle.

  I got a clean break. But not really.

  Even now, while being held by one of the best people I’d ever met, the tattered pieces of my soul were crying out. Reminding me of every sickening memory and debilitating feeling I’d been trying so hard to bury.

  Charlie leaned back, no doubt sensing the change in me. “What’s wrong?”

  I wound my arms around his neck, tears making the ceiling blur above me. It was time to ‘fess up, admit everything that had happened with Marty. How messed up I was as a result. Charlie had just survived meeting my mom and stepdad. Maybe he was strong enough to carry this with me.

  I knew it would be different with Charlie. He was Marty’s opposite in so many ways. He genuinely cared for me. I believed that. Still, imagining myself going through with it, being so vulnerable with someone again, even with Charlie…it made me want to curl up into a ball and breathe into a paper bag.

  My boyfriend leaned back a little, gently breaking free from my embrace in order to look at me. “Esmer?”

  “I have to tell you something.” I sat up, forcing him to give me some more room. I wiped my eyes. Gulped in as much air as I could. Lifted my gaze to meet his. “It’s about Marty.”

  Charlie looked down at the bedspread. “You slept with him, right? It’s okay. I mean—” He grimaced, seemingly unable to look at me. “It’s not okay. Just thinking about it makes me want to break something, but I understand. Your body, your choice, right?”

  I chuckled bitterly. “That’s mighty big of you, Charlie boy, but—”

  “I really don’t need to hear about this right now, Esmer.” He had a painful-looking smile on his face but there was a warning in his voice. He was trying to be nice about his request, trying to hide just how much this bothered him. But I saw the tension in the muscles tightening his shirt around his arms. His hands dug into the bedsprea
d; his knuckles looked paler than usual.

  I sighed. “I don’t wanna talk about this either, but it feels like we’re getting serious. I think you need to know that I’m—” I lost my nerve. I turned away from him, hugging my knees against my chest. I bit down hard on my lip. Focused on breathing.

  “I already have enough of an inferiority complex without you bringing up your sexcapades with your ex.”

  I felt the sting of his words like a finger caught in a car door. I flinched away from him, mouth popping open.

  He glared out the window. “If this is your way of telling me you expect certain things from me—”

  “No!” I snapped. “I’m trying to tell you I’m seriously fucked up because of that asshole. Do you think it’s easy for me to admit I gave into his demands, that I was too afraid to say ‘no’?”

  Charlie bowed his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Goddammit.” I used both hands to wipe the tears from my face. Anger and shame and hurt were three splinters traveling steadily through my veins, sinking into my heart.

  How did this happen? A second ago, I was ready to tear his clothes off. Now I couldn’t even look at him.

  “You don’t wanna hear about it? Fine. Just get out of here.” My voice wavered.

  Charlie finally looked at me, regret and pain twisting his features. “Esmer—”

  “Get out!” I threw the pillow at him, fell back into the mattress, and curled up with my back to him.

  A part of me hoped he’d stay. I needed him to hold me right now, to tell me it didn’t matter, he still wanted me, and everything would be all right. Instead, he did exactly as I asked. He scooped up his shoes and padded across the room. The door creaked softly as it shut behind him.

  * * *

  Chapter 34

  Jasmine

  Charlie was up at three in the morning. I heard him pacing around his workstation. Opening drawers, moving tools around, and piling things over his desk, like he was taking inventory of his supplies. I sat up to check the time and groaned, sending angry telepathic messages his way. He was still in his holey T-shirt and sweatpants, sporting a hairdo that would make a whirlwind proud.

  Finally, he glanced at me. “Sorry,” he muttered and then kept doing what he was doing. Albeit a little more carefully.

  I dropped over my pillow and went back to sleep.

  The next time I woke up, it was four twenty-two. My brother sat cross-legged in front of our entertainment center, rifling through the drawer that housed all of his video games.

  “Seriously?”

  He cringed and then slowly looked over his shoulder at me. “Sorry.”

  I rolled over, pulling half of my pillow over my exposed ear. Somehow, I managed to drift back to sleep. Only to be woken up again at six fifty-six. This time Charlie was staring desolately into space while crunching on a piece of toast, which sounded like it was made out of wood chips. I was tempted to scream at him. It was Saturday!

  But the shadows under his eyes and the hopeless look on his face stole away the bulk of my anger. Knowing he’d gone to have dinner with Esmer’s parents last night, this was reason enough to be concerned. I crawled out of bed and ambled over to the kitchenette.

  “All right,” I grumbled. “Tell me everything.”

  He shrugged, still staring into the distance. “Not much to tell. I screwed up. Esmer hates me. It’s over. We’re done.”

  “Oh-kay, I’m just going to move this”—I picked up the knife he’d used to slather peanut butter and honey on his toast, and set it over a napkin on the opposite end of the table—“right here where it can’t do any harm.” When that didn’t get a reaction, I sat beside him, leaned my elbows against the table, and dropped my face into my hands. I even smiled and blinked really fast to convey that I was all ears.

  My brother took another bite of his toast and said nothing.

  I dropped the act. “Come on. It couldn’t have been that bad. I’m sure whatever you said or did in front of Esmer’s parents—”

  “This isn’t about her parents,” Charlie said quietly. “I hurt Esmer.”

  “I’m going to need a few more details, little brother.”

  “She was trying to tell me something hard and painful about her past. I completely misunderstood. Thought she was trying to…” Some color rose to his pale face. His eyes lowered to his plate as he set the toast down. “Anyway. I cut her off. Made her feel like I didn’t care. I tried to apologize but she kicked me out.” He slowly pushed away his plate, bringing his face closer and closer to the table, until his forehead was resting against it. “I’m the biggest moron on the planet.”

  “Not necessarily,” I said, patting him on the back. “But you are a guy. Cut yourself some slack.”

  My brother shifted just enough to give me the stink eye from above the tabletop.

  I grinned. “There he is. There’s my lovable Mr. Scrooge.”

  “I’m so glad the end of my relationship amuses you.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not over until she says it’s over.”

  “You weren’t there. You didn’t see her.” Charlie wrapped his arms around his head; all I could see was a tuft of brown hair. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved with her. I shouldn’t have let her in.”

  I gave a short exhale, trying to be patient. Why was I the one always giving out relationship advice? “Tell me what you’re feeling exactly.”

  “I’m feeling like my guts are slowly turning inside out,” Charlie spat, sitting up so fast that his chair screeched. “I feel like there’s a big hole in my lung. I feel like there are fire ants crawling up my throat.” His eyes were tinted red. Gritting his teeth, he looked away. “Want to live vicariously through me now?”

  “Yes, I do,” I said calmly, wiping the anger from his face. “It’s what you’re feeling now that’ll keep you from making the same mistake again. This pain is necessary. It’s proof that you’re learning, living…loving.” I smiled a little at the surprise on his face. “If you didn’t love her, you wouldn’t be so devastated at the thought of losing her.”

  “I’m not devastated,” he grumbled, rubbing his eye with a knuckle.

  I mimicked his empty stare and gloomy voice when I said, “It’s over. We’re done.”

  “Shut up,” he growled.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.” I picked up the second, untouched piece of toast on his plate and took a bite. “So how’re you going to win her back?”

  He glared at me for a few more heartbeats before snatching up his discarded piece of toast. Tearing off another bite, he stared into space with newfound determination. “I’ll make her something. How else?” When he swallowed, he lost some of his resolve. “What if…she doesn’t want to be won back?”

  “Then she’ll tell you.” I pointed at the fridge with my toast. “Uncle Vic will stock the freezer with plenty of ice cream and I’ll rent a bunch of sad movies on demand so we can work through your breakup properly. But until then…” I nodded at his workstation. “Focus your energies on coming up with the sweetest, most unique, and romantic gift you could give her. Something that says you’re sorry, you love her, and you’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to her.”

  My brother finished his toast with a nod. “Right. Thanks, Jazz.” He rose from the table, taking his plate with him. Before he could deposit it in the sink, he stopped and stared at the plain yellow ceramic plate as if it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. His whole face lit up. Forgetting all about his current task, my brother walked over to his crafting area. He set the plate down on his desk and got to work.

  ◆◆◆

  After I’d gotten dressed for the day, I ventured upstairs to the break room, where Uncle Victor had probably spent the night sifting through all of the information Interpol and the FBI had sent over about the Salamander. The two new suspects Vanessa had found by going through all of Mr. Ward’s hate mail had turned out to be dead ends. My uncle was desperate to find a connection between
the Salamander and the last immortal couple now that it was his only lead.

  I waltzed around the corner and knocked on the door jamb.

  Vanessa sat in the old leather loveseat in the corner, with a laptop lounging over her glorious thighs. Her head lolled back, her wild hair creating a bushy-looking halo. Her mouth was wide open as she snored. Uncle Victor sat on the floor beside her feet. There was an open file balanced precariously on his lap, the pages cascading over his leg. A stack of files towered beside him. He slept with his cheek flush against his partner’s knee.

  I suppressed a squeal and danced in place. They were so cute! My meeting with Angela and Jerald could totally wait.

  I was quietly retreating when Vanessa twitched in her sleep. It was enough to make Uncle Victor wake with a snort. He squinted around the room through eyes flecked with sleep dust.

  “Jazz?”

  I cringed, stopping in my tracks. “Hey, Uncle Vic. Sorry to bother you.”

  “What time is it?” He twisted the watch around his wrist to see its face. “Is it…morning?” He glanced at the windows as if needing further proof. “Oh, geez. Nessie?” Looking up, he placed a hand on her knee. “Nessie, wake up. It’s morning.”

  Vanessa’s head snapped up and jerked from side to side. “Hmm? What?”

  “We spent the night in the break room.”

  “Again?” Vanessa stretched her arms above her head, face warping with a yawn. “We have to stop doing this. My back is killing me.” When she relaxed again, she looked down at Uncle Victor’s hand. Which was still resting on her knee.

  My uncle lurched to his feet, only to throw his file and its pages all over the floor. He ducked down to collect them, red faced. I rolled my eyes up at the ceiling before bending down to help him.

  “We’re not in the eighteen hundreds, Uncle Vic. You’re allowed to touch her,” I murmured.

  He gave me this baffled, deer in the headlights kind of look.

  I handed him the pages I’d collected.

  Blinking away his surprise, he took the bundle of paper I offered and stood. “Thanks for the wake-up call, Jazz.”