Your damn right it is, I want to say but don’t.
“Ellis would you please help Gage load it into my car?” I ask with a relegated calm that’s specifically reserved for pissing off Chloe.
They head over to the haunted looking glass and hoist it into the air.
Chloe pulls me aside. Too bad for her because negotiations are going to be a real bitch.
“What are you going to do with it?” She hisses.
“I’m going to crawl in every night and kill you over and over.” I give a smug look of satisfaction. “No, wait,” I huff a laugh. “I’m going to have Gage kill you over and over. He’d do it in real life but he’s too damn nice.” I give a short-lived smile.
She takes in a deep breath, looking over my shoulder as it disappears from sight.
“That was your last chance Chloe,” I zero in on her with my hatred. “You will never have Gage now. You will never know his skin, his lips, what it’s like to be wild with pleasure from his touch.”
Her features glaze. Chloe’s face smoothes over—turns to stone from the horror of it all. “I’m so damn sick of you,” she seethes. “The Gagegasms, the Logangasms—the vaginal fireworks going off are totally sickening.” Her chest heaves with loathing. “I want you to remember this day, Skyla.” Her dark eyes penetrate me as they explode with hatred into mine. “This is the day you sealed your fate and that of your loser group of boyfriends.”
“What are you going to do?” I taunt her slow and reserved, swill her panic around in my mouth like fine wine. “Run us over with my car? Oh, wait, you already did that, didn’t you?”
She leans back, bites down on her lip, controlling a criminal smile. “I’m going to hit you all right, and you will never see it coming.” She spins on her heels and disappears into the crowd swift as a demon.
The last time Chloe uttered those words it almost cost me Gage.
My insides loosen as I scan the crowd for him.
Please God don’t let it be Gage.
Chapter 67
It’s Raining Caskets
Sunday, it rains all day.
The harsh precipitation unleashes all of the pent up fury it was forced to suppress the day before while Marshall donned his weather god hat. The sky is pissing all over Paragon after being forced to hold it a solid twenty-four.
An entire watershed has dumped off on us already this afternoon. It’s violent needle-like protrusions against the infrastructure of the house feels heavy, as if it were pressing down on my shoulders instead.
The Landon house is playing host to a baby shower today.
Since teenage girls are often short on cash, and neither Brielle nor Drake have large extended families looming in the wings willing to glom together and purchase entire sections of Babies ‘R Us, Mom decides to take on the responsibility herself. She opts to have a small quick shower consisting of presents purchased almost exclusively by her.
Of course, Gage, the Landon clan, and Brielle’s frequently inebriated mother will be in attendance. Ethan’s dysfunctional other half will be making a cameo, which, by the way, I’m still waiting for him to hang her by her long intestines or something along those lines as a means of revenge.
Crap. I just thought of something. Ethan is such a dumbass he probably doesn’t comprehend the true meaning of the word revenge. He probably believes it has the opposite implications.
I try to put the thought out of my mind by tending to decorations.
I set a buttery yellow tablecloth over the coffee table where my mother instructed me to arrange the presents in hopes to usher in a festive mood, as if teen pregnancies weren’t festive enough. But all I can think about is the fact Gage is taking me out later this afternoon. Now that Ellis is aware Holden is using Logan’s body as a hideout, he volunteered to Holden-sit so we can be alone.
“Skyla, blow up some balloons. They’ll be home any minute.” Mom shoves a fistful of blue and pink latex at me, ironic because if latex were employed about nine months ago, none of us would be subject to the layered cake molded in the shape of a fetus today. She spins me in the direction of a fat helium tank and takes off towards the kitchen.
Drake and Brielle took Mia and Melissa out for a quick mall crawl. The girls have been in ‘bitch squad training mode’ all week.
“Tell me why my presence is needed again?” Tad looks unreasonably burdened by the fact he needs to stay put the rest of the afternoon. He blows up a balloon by mouth and knots it off. Hot air is his specialty so it’s no coincidence his balloon floats without the aid of chemically altered gases.
“Support,” Mom bellows, clearly annoyed. “You’re supporting your son during a milestone in his life.”
“That’s where I disagree,” Tad contests. “You see—he chose to be flagrantly irresponsible. Therefore, if I stay, I’ll only be supporting the fact he’s immature and essentially immoral.” He stares blankly at the wall. “And he’s completely unaware of the fact condoms are more than just room décor.”
Ethan and Chloe emerge from his bedroom. His hair is sticking up in the back and Chloe sports an undeniable post-coital glow.
I guess Tad is two for two when it comes to immature and irresponsible children. Let’s hope this one knows the power prophylactics hold when it comes to warding off demonic spawn.
“Oh, hi Chloe,” Mom shoots a nervous look to me. “You’re more than welcome to join us. We’re having a small baby shower for Brielle.”
“I’d love to. How can I help?” Chloe is quick to bend and pucker in my mother’s presence.
“Let’s get these banners up in the front hall,” Mom leads her out of the room.
“Guess what, Sis?” Ethan frowns into me.
“Don’t call me that.” It weirds me out because that’s exactly what Holden used to call me when he was wearing Ethan’s skin sweater.
“Chloe’s making plans for you,” he whispers.
“Yeah? No surprise there. I thought you said you had a little revenge plot of your own brewing?” I look him up and down.
“I do,” he gives a quick nod.
“To be initiated—never?” Maybe sleeping with her is his revenge? He does have a severe case of desperate dick syndrome. Revenge always equals sex to a guy—come to think of it most things do.
“Prom,” he deadpans.
“You taking her to prom is supposed to invoke fear into her?” Crap. Why do I get the feeling I’ve just been Landoned.
“Did I hear someone mention prom?” Tad floats over. “You know most teen fatalities occur on that glorified night of illegal festivities?”
“What’s this about?” Mom and Chloe drift back in the room.
“Just discussing the inevitable side effects of indecent frolic and formal wear,” Tad says, while stringing a balloon. He lets it float up to the ceiling and it pops with an obnoxious bang.
“Prom is a magical time of year,” Mom shakes her head, “don’t listen to him.”
“It is a magical time of year.” Chloe initiates a smile from my mother with her ‘bend over—me kiss you long time’ routine. She clasps onto Ethan. “Will you be my prom date?”
“Anything for you,” he cuts a quick secretive smile in my direction.
Why do I have the sneaking suspicion that Ethan is in bed with Chloe in more ways than one?
There’s a brief knock on the door followed by a familiar hello.
Gage breezes into the room with an apple red ribbon tied around a miniature white casket.
“Aw,” I say petting the smooth glossy wood. “It is so freaking adorable.” It’s from Gage and me to Drake and Brielle. I just know they’re going to love it. Well, they should—after all, she was the one who requested it.
“Are you mentally challenged?” Tad stomps over. He looks sick like he might vomit over it and Gage. “Clearly you have voided the warranty on that micro encephalon. Get that bad omen out of the house. My grandchild is not sleeping in that sarcophagus.”
A scuffle erupts off in the entry
, screaming and shouting, and the sound of something thumping into the wall, then the very distinct crash of glass breaking.
“What in the hell?” Tad leads the way to the front hall.
Mia and Melissa scratch and claw—pull each other by the hair in every direction.
Gage and Ethan jump in, plucking the two of them apart like bouncers at some wild bar fight.
“Wouldn’t it be great if we could settle our differences that easily?” Chloe purrs into my ear.
“I hate you!” Mia rattles the words into Melissa’s face.
“I’m going to make sure you die a slow and painful death!” Melissa fires back. Coming from a Count that sounds like a promise more than a threat. Then again Mia is technically one, too.
“All things I’d like to say to you,” I lean into Chloe and smile.
“Eat dirt!” Mia snaps.
Tad injects himself into the ruckus and claps his hands over his head. “Whatever the hell it is that has you girls up in arms, get over it. I won’t have this infighting going on. My roof, my rules.”
“You are an asshole!” Mia barks in his face before zooming upstairs.
“Get the hell out of my room!” Melissa speeds up after her.
“Lizbeth!” Tad spears a finger in their direction and they both shake their heads at the failed experiment that is our family.
“Come to think of it, I think this is an accurate portrayal of what life would be like if we were sisters,” Chloe pulls a lock of her coal colored hair and slips it into her mouth like a slithering reptile.
“I thank God we’re not genetically related,” I seethe. “I think nature mutated you in everyway but physical.”
“Thank you,” she quips.
Gage steps in behind me, wraps both his arms around my waist and rests his head on my shoulder.
“I take that back,” I seethe. “I think physically you should be in a casket. I’m sure Gage would be happy to supply one if needed.”
Gage doesn’t say anything, just suppresses a small laugh as if to attest to the fact he would indeed supplicate a pine box if such a glorious occasion arose.
Chloe gasps for air, lets her wild gaze stray from Gage to me before settling on him with her full throttle anger. “There will be a casket, Gage. Only it won’t be my body in it.”
Chapter 68
Pink and Blue
Mia and Melissa put down the proverbial boxing gloves long enough to join us for the revelry or lack thereof. Darla dragged in Demetri, her latest, not so greatest main squeeze, and Mom keeps laughing and giggling into him like they’re not so secretly getting it on in private.
Brielle thinks we should start the party off with cake so I man the dessert table while systematically destroying the overpriced rendition of a baby. Why, exactly, my mother deemed it acceptable to order a cake designed to look like a giant baby shrimp metamorphosing into a human, escapes me. Did she not know there would come a time when one of us would be forced to lop off its crustacean humanoid head? And that a baby’s head on a platter, albeit a paper plate imprinted with tiny yellow booties, looks no less offensive than if it were real?
“Old habits die hard,” Chloe snarks while I hack off an arm. She takes a piece and slinks back to Ethan without offering to help.
Tad pops up behind me and runs his finger over the decapitated pastry.
“So, I hear there’s a wedding next week,” I scoff, disgusted at his inability to keep my mother from falling right into the snake charmer’s basket.
“Sure is,” Tad snaps about half a dozen cookies off a tray.
“So, are you like the best man or something?” I continue to lacerate the hindquarter of the heavily frosted infant while Gage retrieves the ice cream from the freezer.
“What?” he hisses.
“You know, at Mom and Demetri’s wedding? Are you playing the role of minister or greeter? Because you sure as hell are not going to be the groom.” I nod over at Mom who lets out a full on sexual moan right in the middle of the room while Demetri straddles her from behind and indulges her in a shoulder rub.
“I bet you would like that wouldn’t you?” His tiny eyes squint into nothing. “I bet you’d volunteer to be the photographer at that event just to encapsulate each precious moment your mother is with anyone but me.” His face explodes with color.
“Not true,” I interject.
“Let me tell you something, Missy. Your mother and I share a bond you know nothing about. We are closer than most couples who have been married for fifty years and I wouldn’t normally say this as I realize I’ll be crossing a serious line, but let the record show you drew first blood. Your mother and I are far more intimate than she ever was with her former husband who did nothing but keep the blinders on and shoulder her from the truth. I would never disrespect her that way, so that makes me miles better.” He dumps the cookies back on the table and stomps off.
“What the heck was that about?” Gage steps in.
“He’s insane,” I shake my head. “He actually thinks he’s better than my dad. Can you believe that? What a joke.” I try to get my bearings before stabbing into the rock solid ice cream with an oversized spoon. “He accused my dad of keeping secrets from my mom.” Which was sort of true.
“You think he knows?” Gage jabs each piece of cake with a fork. “You think she let him in on the fact she’s a Count?”
I cut a heavy gaze over at her. Demetri is still going strong from behind and now Tad has her shoes off and is indulging her in some weird foot rub that looks both torturous and x-rated at the same time.
“It’s like they’re attacking her.” I lean into Gage for support while my mother endures a caustic assault that doubles as a morbid form of entertainment.
“Present time!” Darla spins in a circle while bolstering her Mimosa high in the air.
“Mine first!” Melissa insists.
“Gimme, gimme,” Brielle squeezes her fingers as Melissa hands over a small yellow bag. She quickly tosses the tissue paper and plucks out a small rubber duck. “That’s it?” Brielle dumps the bag upside down before tossing it aside.
“Yeah, but I bought it with my own money,” Melissa glares over at Mia as if she received a loan from twelve different financial institutions to subsidize her gift.
Mia hands her a small velvet box. Something tells me Melissa’s inclinations about Mia’s gift might be factual. Or in the least, she’s in serious debt to our mother.
Brielle lifts up a tiny ring with a circumference the size of a pencil.
“No freaking way!” She screams with delight. “I can’t believe how awesome this is! This is so going to be on my baby the minute she’s born. This baby is going to have some serious bling attached at all times.” Brielle holds the tiny band of gold out for all to inspect.
“It’s going to be a he,” Drake corrects. “And he’s going to look just like me.”
“Hope not,” Brielle cracks. “The last thing I want is for it to have that Count Dracula V coming down into its forehead like it’s about to lose an eye to a sickle.”
I look over at Gage. Those sounded an awful lot like fighting words. But, I so agree about that whole Count Dracula thing. Really, it’s kind of creepy. We should mandate a prayer vigil in hopes it’s recessive.
“If you really want something to be optimistic about,” Drake starts in a little louder than necessary, “let’s hope she doesn’t inherit your mother’s urge to get hammered every time there’s a public gathering. And,” he yanks the ring from Brielle’s hand. “If you put this on the baby it’s going to choke to death in the first five minutes.”
Darla laughs. I don’t think she quite understood that an insult was hurled in her honor, or the fact the death of her yet unborn grandchild was just broached as a topic.
“Give me that,” Mia snatches it from him. “Contrary to what your stupid sister believes, I did pay for that with my own money.”
“Enough,” Mom howls, although it’s unclear who she’s shouting at,
the scuffle unfolding or the scrimmage Demetri and Tad are waging over her body. Nevertheless, it all ceases. “You two are going to enter into one of life’s most amazing privileges—becoming parents,” her voice softens. “Brielle, you will love your child even if he or she is endowed with the Landon family mark of condemnation. And Drake, you will trust Brielle enough to know she would never allow that child to hurt itself. She is infused with God-given maternal instincts. She is going to be a fantastic mother. Mia and Melissa, you will learn to get along because you are both about to become aunts to a wonderful baby who the two of you will adore for the rest of your lives. And, I expect everyone here to get along next week when I marry the love of my life.” She reaches down and picks up a hand without looking, presses Demetri’s fingers to her lips and kisses them.
I give a gloating smile as Tad’s jaw hits the floor.
But it just so happens this time, I hate being right.
Chapter 69
Man in the Mirror
Soon after the abomination of desolation takes off, a.k.a. Demetri—he was the last freaking partygoer to leave, even Brielle took off long before he dragged his slithering tail out the door, but I digress—Tad drags Mom upstairs to progress to a full body rub. His words, not mine. The whole idea makes me vomit a little in the back of my mouth.
Of course, Gage doesn’t leave. He’s more family, less partygoer and we’ve yet to have some alone time. That date we keep trying to have continues to evaporate into a future that doesn’t seem to have a place for it so we grab the bull by the horns and decide there’s no time like the present. I pull him upstairs to my room to get operation save the date underway.
A foreign chessboard sits on my desk. Pewter cast chessmen each with their own unique effigy stare off blankly into one another.
“Looks like Marshall dropped off his spiritual air fresheners,” I say fingering the glossy onyx board.
Gage picks up a piece and examines it before holding it out.
“It’s you,” he whispers. “You’re the queen.”
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