Sweet as Sin

by J. T. Geissinger

  My stomach twisted. I felt an almost overpowering urge to throw up. “Happy? My God, Michael! She was an addict—she was molested by your father, she was forced to work in a brothel—how could you do that to her? How could you take advantage of someone so damaged in that way? She was your sister!”

  He screamed, “She was my life!”

  Terrified, I jumped. On a gut level, I knew he was a grave danger to me. One wrong move, and I’d be dead.

  He prowled slowly closer. My hands were ice. I couldn’t breathe. My mind hurtled through space at a thousand miles per hour, but my body was rooted in place.

  Michael’s voice dropped to just above a whisper. “And when Nico found out about us, he took away the only thing I ever loved and threatened to kill me if I ever went near her again. He told her I was sick, I was just like our father, and she listened to him. They cut me off, and I never saw her again until the day they lowered her fucking coffin into the ground!”

  I now understood with bloodcurdling clarity why Nico had been so upset when he’d seen Michael kiss me, and when I’d told him I was glad it had been Michael watching us that night at the house and not some stranger. Here was the reason Nico hadn’t spoken to his brother in five years. God only knew how he’d found out. I hoped with all my heart Nico hadn’t walked in on the two of them together.

  Michael reached into the waistband of his jeans. He produced a shiny black revolver, and pointed it at my heart.

  My face flushed hot. My entire body began to shake. I almost fainted with terror. “Killing me won’t bring her back.”

  “Of course it won’t,” he answered through gritted teeth. “This isn’t about you, Kat. It’s about him. After we came to LA, his entire life was handed to him on a silver platter. Money, fame, success, now love . . . he has everything. And I have nothing. I want him to suffer like he made me suffer. I want him to know exactly what it feels like to be thrown away by the person you love more than anything else on earth. I want to watch that.”

  I blinked. Watch that?

  His face twisted into an ugly grimace. “I’m not really interested in killing you, Kat. That would hurt my brother, but in the end, he’d have closure. It would be over too quickly. It would be too clean. Also, I have no interest in going to prison. So that only leaves one other choice.”

  I didn’t understand. Wordlessly, I slowly shook my head.

  Michael said, “You’re going to leave him.”

  “No!” I said it instantly, without thinking. He ignored me and kept talking, a wild glint shining in his eye.

  “If you leave him, if you tell him you’ve changed your mind, that you don’t really love him and turn your back on him, it’ll tear him apart. I know him. He’ll never get over it. He’ll pine over you for the rest of his life. He’s never been in love before. Ridiculous, isn’t it, for a man his age? A man with beautiful women throwing themselves at him left and right as he walks down the street?”

  He nodded, agreeing with himself. “Ridiculous. I almost didn’t think he had it in him. But, lucky for me, he does. And now I finally have my chance to prove to him that there are far worse things in this world than death. Do you know what’s worse than death, Kat?”

  Swallowing back the bile rising in my throat, I stared at him.

  With chilling softness, Michael said, “Abandonment. Rejection by the person you love more than life itself. Death is nice and peaceful compared to that. Death would be a relief! So I won’t kill you. Instead, we’re all going to suffer together.” He cackled. “For as long as we all shall live.”

  I realized then that Michael wasn’t only dangerous. He was insane. Think, Kat. Think!

  “And if I refuse? If I tell Nico every word you just said?”

  Michael smiled. “Then I’ll tell the whole world our ugly little family story, beginning with how Nico pushed our father down a flight of stairs—only omitting how much of an incestuous, drunken bastard daddy dearest was—and ending with an illicit affair between two siblings. Only I’ll change it up a little. I’ll say it was Nico who was having the affair with our sister, not me. And that when Daddy found out, Nico killed him.”

  I made a choked sound of horror. Michael merely smiled and smiled, the gun still pointed at my chest.

  “You know they’ll all believe it, too, the way Amy insisted on pretending Nico was her boyfriend.” His smile drained away, replaced by a scowl. “She was always trying to make me jealous with that shit.”

  I had to do something. I had to figure out a way to get out of this, to change his mind. “Michael, let’s just talk about this for a minute—”

  “No. We’re done talking, Kat.” Michael’s voice was stone cold, to match the look reflected in his eyes. “Here are your choices: Leave Nico. Do it loud, and do it tonight. Make it embarrassing for him. Make it public. Have a screaming fight over dinner, slap him silly in the bar, whatever. Just make him believe it’s over, make everyone watching believe it’s over, and then walk away, for good.

  “Or . . . ” his wild eyes glittered. “Don’t leave him, or leave now but get back together with him at any point in the future and I’ll sell my story to the highest bidder. Which means Nico’s life will be ruined.”

  I already saw the headlines. Worse, I knew that even if I insisted to anyone who’d listen that Michael had set this all up, Nico might be charged with the murder of his father. I had no doubt that, if questioned by the police, he’d admit to pushing his father down the stairs, especially if he was trying to clear his name of false accusations regarding his relationship with Amy. But any protestations he might make about Amy’s abuse at the hands of their father could never be proven now that she was dead. And being Nico’s fiancée, I probably wouldn’t even be a credible witness.

  And though Michael wasn’t exactly a credible witness, either, the press would have a field day with the story. Ultimately, it would be Michael’s word against Nico’s.

  It would be a bloodbath.

  Michael was carefully watching my face. He said, “I have nothing left to lose, Kat. I might even tell the police Nico had his way with me.” Before I could recover from that fresh horror, he added, “And there’s the small matter of the disappearing photographer. Did he tell you about that?” He waited a beat and saw confirmation on my face. “Of course he did. He’s told you everything. Personally I think with the right judge, Nico could be spending a very, very long time behind bars.”

  There was no way out. I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t do anything. I could only stare at him, mute, spinning, devastated, my heart thrashing like a dying animal inside my chest.

  “It’s your decision. I’ll give you eight hours. If I don’t read on all the stalkerazzi blogs that Nico Nyx got dumped in a highly humiliating way by,” he checked his watch, “six o’clock tomorrow morning, I’m blowing it all up.”

  I made a helpless noise of disbelief. For a moment, Michael seemed to take pity on me.

  “Think of it as the lesser of two evils, Kat. You can save Nico from career suicide, massive public ridicule, and prison, but only by breaking his heart. If you care for him at all, it shouldn’t be such a hard decision.”

  Through the chaos wreaking havoc inside my head, I managed one final rational argument. “And if I do break it off with him? What guarantees do I have that you won’t go to the press with your story anyway?”

  Michael gazed at me, his eyes filled with darkness. His voice fell to a ragged rasp. “I could have done this years ago. I could have ruined him as soon as I realized he’d poisoned Amy against me. But I didn’t. I waited until he had something he’d rather die for than give up. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at you. I can hear it in his voice. You’re his Achilles’ heel. Did you know he’s been writing songs about you? That Bad Habit’s next album is going to be titled Thunderstruck, for how he felt when he first saw you? That’s how much he loves you. Losing you will break his soul. He’ll have to live in the same place I live, in this bottomless black hole of pain. H
e’ll stay out of prison, he’ll keep everything he’s worked for, but he’ll be broken. He’ll be empty, like me. That’s all I want, Kat. An eye for an eye. It’s only fair.”

  All the speeches over, he lowered the gun to his side. We stared at each other in silence.

  The magnitude of the situation hit me with the force of a wrecking ball. I had to do what he’d asked or Nico’s life was over.

  Michael turned and walked slowly toward the door. He paused for one last look at me, his hand resting on the doorknob. “Do the right thing, Kat. Let him go. You can still have a life. You can find your happiness with someone else. But there are no happily-ever-afters for people like Nico and me. We were cursed from birth.”

  He unlocked the door, opened it, and disappeared. Trembling violently, I sank to my knees on the floor.

  I knew exactly what I had to do next.

  Sick and shaking, I walked slowly from the bathroom. From downstairs came the thumping bass of music, rumbling through the floor. At the bar, Chloe and Grace waited for me, drinks in hand, laughing with a long-haired guy in head-to-toe leather. As soon as Chloe caught sight of my face, her laughter died.

  “Kat?” She rose from the bar stool. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have to get out of here.”

  Michael was nowhere to be seen. He’d melted back into the night as quickly as he’d appeared.

  “What?” Grace twisted in her seat to stare at me as if I were insane. “What are you talking about?”

  I couldn’t explain. I could never explain. I strode past them to the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor.

  Abandoning their drinks and their companion, Chloe and Grace came up behind me. “Kat, what the hell is going on? Your face is white as a sheet, and you’re trembling! Are you sick?”

  I closed my eyes. You have no idea, Grace. I whispered, “I just can’t take this anymore. I’m done with all of it. And I have to go.”

  Chloe gripped my arm. “Wait, are you talking about Nico? You’re done with him?”

  The elevator doors opened. I shook off her hand. I stepped inside, stabbed my finger to the button, and slumped into the corner, looking at the floor. The girls crowded in with me, peppering me with questions, but I didn’t respond, except to beg, “Please don’t ask me anything. I can’t talk about it. I have to go.”

  When the doors slid open on the ground floor, I bolted.

  I ran down the shadowy hallway, pushing past couples making out and guys sharing a joint, the acrid haze of pot smoke hanging low in the air. The music was louder down here. The band was still playing, but they were almost finished with their set. They were going to play, then eat, drink, and be merry with all their friends and family who’d come, the favored inner circle of roadies and agents and managers, the hundreds of others who’d helped them along the way.

  I made it to the side stage where I’d been standing earlier just as Bad Habit finished the final song. I watched, panting and holding back tears, as they high-fived and hugged. The crowd screamed with happiness.

  Then Nico turned and saw me standing there. Before I could call him offstage, he did something that made me choke on my own breath. He began to play a tune on his guitar. A mariachi song: “La Canción del Mariachi.”

  Our song.

  He smiled at me from the stage, the lights shining on his hair. He leaned into the mike and said to the crowd, “Anybody here ever been in love?”

  The response was deafening. Nico’s smile was exultant. He turned his gaze back to me. “C’mon out here, Kat!”

  Time slowed. The noise of the crowd faded to a dull roar. Every beat of my heart sounded like thunder in my ears. His hand extended, Nico beckoned to me. Someone behind me nudged me forward, and I moved toward Nico on feet I could no longer feel.

  As I stumbled onto the stage, bright lights seared my eyes. Color and motion and noise hammered me from all sides. It was then that I noticed the flowers. Massed low in a long row of fluffy white, peonies lined the entire length of the front edge of the stage. From offstage I hadn’t been able to see them.

  Peonies are a symbol of a happy marriage. I was savin’ those up for when I got you the ring.

  My stomach lurched. I thought I would vomit. Frozen, my eyes wide, I stared ahead blindly, the room a watery waver. Nico strode over, took my hand, and pulled me center stage. He handed his guitar to Brody, who winked at me, then Nico pulled the mike from the stand. Into it he said, “Got somethin’ I wanna ask you, baby. And this time I’m gonna ask it right.”

  Nico got down on one knee.

  The crowd erupted into a screaming, jumping riot.

  No. Oh, God, no. Not like this.

  I should have known. His distraction, his question in the car on the way over, the way he always did everything over the top, loud as could be. If I thought I’d ever felt pain before in my life, I’d been wrong. What I felt staring down at the man I loved as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a black velvet box was nothing short of holocaust.

  Someone handed me a wireless mike. My fingers curled around it in a death grip. I no longer knew how to blink, or breathe.

  Gazing up at me with adoration, Nico said gently, “I love you, Kat Reid. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. You said I couldn’t propose right without a ring, so . . . ”

  He cracked open the black box. An enormous diamond glittered at me, mockingly bright. Over the screams of a thousand people, Nico asked, “Will you marry me?”

  I couldn’t speak. Everything inside me clamored yes yes yes! But I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t say anything at all. From my mouth came a small sound, a wordless noise of anguish, and the speakers shrieked with a sudden burst of feedback from my mike.

  Nico winced. The noise of the crowd died down. There was a long, drawn-out moment of tension in which I stared down at Nico, he stared up at me, the crowd stared at the two of us in our horrible spectacle on stage, until I found a strength I didn’t know I had, and opened my mouth.

  In a voice clear and strong, I said directly into the mike, “I can’t. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

  Cries of shock. Gasps of disbelief. Even a few snickers. Someone near the front of the crowd muttered, “Man, that’s some cold shit right there.” Nico, still down on one knee, stared at me in stunned incomprehension, his blue eyes flared wide.

  I imagined I heard the sound of Michael’s laughter in the distance.

  The mike dropped from my fingers. It hit the stage with a thud. Nico shot to his feet, his face twisted in shock. I backed away a few steps, then turned and ran.

  He followed me. As I shoved past flabbergasted Chloe, Grace, and Eric standing in the wings, I heard Nico shouting my name, heard his feet pounding the floor. I ran with no idea of direction, through the twisting backstage corridors, until Nico caught up to me around a corner. He grabbed my arm from behind, and pushed me against the cold cement wall with so much force my breath left my lungs in a grunt.

  “What the fuck?” he shouted into my face.

  “Just let me go, Nico! I can’t do this anymore!” I shoved him, my hands flat on his chest. It was like trying to move a mountain.

  He screamed, “What the fuck?”

  A sea of rotting garbage tossed inside my stomach. As I began to get a clearer picture of what my sacrifice might actually involve, of the days and weeks and months and years I would now have to survive, drawing breath from dead lungs, seeing out of dead eyes, walking around in a corpse’s body, I almost, almost, told him the truth.

  Then he let me off the hook by being an asshole, and the moment was gone forever.

  “Did you know I was gonna do that? Is this some kind of fucked-up test? Humiliate me in front of everyone who’s important to me to see just how much I’ll put up with, to prove how much I love you? Are you that fuckin’ insecure?”

  “No!” I shouted. “I just finally realized I don’t love you enough to be your wife!”

  I might as well have stabbed him through the hear
t. His face turned white. His mouth dropped open. He recoiled from me, staggering back a few steps to stare at me as if I were the demon who’d just ripped his soul from his body and gobbled it down.

  I swallowed back the bitter bite of bile rising in my throat, trying to catch my breath. I guessed I had about thirty seconds of bravado left before I’d crumble, and he’d know it was all a giant pack of lies.

  “I’m sorry, Nico. I wish it wasn’t true, because you’re an amazing person, and I do care for you. But—”

  “You said you loved me. You said you’d be mine for as long as both our hearts were beating.” His voice was hoarse and breaking. Looking at his face was like watching a building burn to the ground.

  “Nico, I—”

  “I told you everything about me, all my secrets, all my darkest shit, and you fucking said you loved me!”

  There wasn’t any air. There was nothing supporting my weight. I felt as if I were being sucked hard against the ground, and it might at any second swallow me whole. Nico stared at me, shaking, red faced, a vein in his temple throbbing like mad.

  I whispered, “You promised me you’d let me go if I ever wanted to walk away.”

  His eyes welled with tears. He shook his head, a violent jerk that sent his hair flying.

  “Yes. You promised. And now I want to walk away. I can’t take it, Nico. Your lifestyle. Your past. Your possessiveness. This craziness with your brother. I want out. Now. Tonight. I’m sorry it had to be this way, but I’m done.”

  His throat worked. His gaze darted all over my face. He stood there a few feet away, breathing hard, looking as if he’d like to scream, or smash my face in with his fists. As best I could, I kept my expression a cold mask.