by Raven Scott
But that was as much a determination as it was a drawback. I couldn’t have a part of her, even though it was mightily hypocritical of me. After all, it wasn’t like I had given her all of me, yet, either. That would entail showing her how easy it was to kill someone, to snuff out a life and all that potential with no regrets and no lost sleep.
“When I came back from the Marines, I lived in Washington, D.C. for a while. That sucked ass. It was so expensive.” Maybe, it’d be better to keep my mouth shut, and Illya propped her elbow on the center console to stare at me. Her slender brows furrowed, and she puffed out her lips as I flicked on my blinker as we neared a stop sign. “What?”
“Since we’re doing this . . . I’m kinda nervous.” Arching a brow quizzically, I nearly choked on my own spit, and she frowned darkly out of my peripheral. “The only guys I’ve ever had sex with were so drunk they could barely get it up. I was always on top. Some times, I didn’t even have to take off my clothes if I wore a skirt. It’s just safer that way because there’s this time where they’re really grabby, and I can’t do that.”
“I already figured that out. Why do you think I go so far only to stop right before the good part?” Her mossy green eyes brightened at my admission, and I cleared my throat roughly; having a conversation like this was surreal. I never expected to have to explain myself to her. “Grabbing tits isn’t exactly something I think about, so I’ve been trying to get myself out of the habit. It’s frustrating, I get it, but you gotta have a little faith in me, Illya.”
“Ooh.” A grim smirk tilted my lips, and I reached to rub her head and ruffle her hair roughly. Honestly, Illya was really sad and pathetic, how she didn’t expect people to act with her interests in mind. It’d been months, and she questioned everything I did for her. She always expected to have to pay me back in some way. “I’m making this difficult, aren’t I? It was easier before Carlyle picked me up.”
“Do you have any family in Mass. now?” Changing the subject rather than agree with her and make it worse, I paused at the stop sign as Illya nodded. “Do you want to visit them, too?”
“Might as well. Do you ever go see your parents?” My cheek twitched at that, and I shook my head as memories flooded my mind’s eye. “Why not?”
“They’re still pissed at me about my sister. I mean, I don’t blame them. I wasn’t okay at the time, but Kelsie was still in the wrong as well. If I had to take a side, I’d take hers. I would’ve cut her fingers off. If I had the chance again, I’d do it without hesitation.” Inhaling deeply through my nose, I lifted my right hand to stretch my mangled fingers taut, and tension prickled up my arm. “I always hated her, stuck up bitch. It’s not out of character for her to say shit like that. I remember the day she was born. The fuck does she think, that she’s better than everyone else just because she’s got the suburbia dream life?”
“I had little twin brothers. They both died in the fire when the roof collapsed. I’ve got a bunch of aunts and uncles on both sides, but Carol was relatively drama-free at the time. Now that I’m older, I don’t blame anyone for not taking me in. Everyone has their own problems, and despite being family, they’re not obligated to take me on. Especially with all the care I needed. That’s not fair to anyone.” The more she revealed, the darker, raspier, Illya’s voice became, and I reached into the cup holder to check the GPS on my phone with a low grunt. “Carol killed herself. I told you about that. Her husband took on her court case and didn’t try to contest it. He probably didn’t have any fight in him because of her death. In the end, she shirked it off onto others and got away scot-free.”
“So, what happened? To the money they owed you?”
“I dropped it. He didn’t even know what was going on. He thought she got a promotion and a bonus at work for some of the more noticeable stuff. I wanted to fuck her over, but she took the easy way out. He offered to pay some of it, or make a plan or something, but . . . it was about the money, but not really about the money, you know?” A harsh bark of shock escaped me, and I turned away from the road as Illya sat back with a heavy sigh. “I was young and stupid. I was already homeless, so it couldn’t get worse, or so I believed at the time. It’d be easy to get a job at McDonalds or whatever. I speak six languages, and that’s gonna get me somewhere. Well, it didn’t, but I couldn’t just go back. Fuck that.”
“How come you always stick to your decisions unless I’m involved?” My tease earned me a slight push from over the center console, and I leaned back to stretch my leg a little. “No, seriously, though. Why do you make awful decisions and stick by them, but you waver on the good ones until they turn bad?”
“Maybe, I just like wallowing in my misery because it’s comfortable. The unknown is scary.” Snorting roughly at that, I shook my head, and Illya frowned out of the corner of my eye. “I don’t know. Maybe, it’s because I care about your opinion.”
I smirked broadly as Illya looked out the window, her hair falling over her shoulder to hide her pink cheeks. This was one of those moments that I always thought brought us a little closer— and then she’d fuck it up.
But, surprisingly, she didn’t disappoint this time, and I arched a brow when she huffed softly.
“I know I just said I didn’t blame him, but I still wanna kick him in the balls for being an ignorant ass.” Really, I couldn’t say anything about that. I’d never met the guy, but I couldn’t believe he was so trusting of his wife. Truthfully, a few grand of a surprise remodel would’ve been understandable, but tens of thousands of dollars?
“Where do your parents live, Theo?” The question threw me for a loop, and I reached to rub my head and neck in discomfort.
“Uh . . . I don’t really know, to be honest. They cut contact with me after all that shit.” My grumble of a reply earned me expectant silence, and I glanced over the center console as Illya stared at her lap intently under furrowed brows. “I’ve never thought of trying to reconnect with them. Are you gonna tell me I should?”
“No.” She reached to brush her fingers along her jaw thoughtfully, and I grunted softly. A knot formed in my chest, but I shook my head and focused on the road. We’d taken the scenic route up through Connecticut, and I managed to avoid most of the highways. “Family is as much a good thing as a bad thing. Just because I don’t have mine anymore doesn’t mean you’re obligated to suffer for yours.”
32
Illya
“I feel like this is the calm before the storm.” Goosebumps blanketed my arms and legs, and I flexed my grip on the door handle as Theo jerked the emergency brake. The cemetery was deathly still and silent, and I inhaled a stabilizing breath before popping open the door. “I don’t like this.”
“What is ‘this’?” I wasn’t sure if that question had an answer yet, and I pursed my lips thinly as I climbed out of the car. We’d been driving for hours, but I wasn’t stiff or tired. There was no apprehension running through my veins. There was nothing except this intense sense of foreboding gorging on my insides. This feeling had been building the past two weeks or so, and I wasn’t sure if it was simply because Carlyle’s grace period was up, or it was something more sinister.
Granted, Carlyle was sinister in himself. Whatever he wanted me to do wasn’t just basic blackmail.
“Is wanting to come here more about starting your job?” As if he read my thoughts, Theo rounded the front of his car to sling his arm over my shoulders, and my expression soured. Glancing around at the beautiful landscaping and bright sun shining down on everything, making headstones glimmer, I only jerked my head in a nod. “Don’t be nervous, Illya. Carlyle’s not so bad once you get used to him.”
“My parents were great people, and this is what I’m doing. I don’t even know what it is I’m doing. Carlyle won’t tell me anything. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s going to be a baptism of fire.” I rested my cheek on his chest, and we started walking through the headstones, immersing me in a strange sense of surrealism. I’d never thought to be back here, and I thought mo
ving to California would make that impossible. “I don’t feel anything but dread, Theo. I mean, being here . . . my parents and my brothers are dead. They’re not ghosts or up in Heaven. They’re rotted in the ground, and they don’t hold any sway on my life right now. I just . . . I came here because I thought it’d be easier to do it here instead of being trapped in that place.”
“Do what? I’m not screwing you in a cemetery, Illya.” Frowning darkly, I didn’t offer a response to that, and Theo palmed my head as we walked down the path. “Do what, Illya?”
“To figure out my life.” My answer earned me a questioning grunt, and I glanced over at the rows and rows of perfectly trimmed grass. Why didn’t people treat others this well until after they died? Licking my lips heavily, I held back a sigh, and my worries seemed to roll easily off my tongue. “What kind of person am I if I’m not starving and living under a tarp? I don’t know. I thought maybe coming here would help me get some perspective on who I could be, because I really can’t picture myself not struggling. That’s kinda sad.”
“Carlyle may be a drug lord or terrorist or whatever they call it these days, but what does that mean for me? How much of it can I ignore, and how much of it should I look at? These past few weeks have been great, but I can’t open the refrigerator without effort. I can’t leave that building without being gripped by apprehension that I won’t be able to get back in.” Slowly, my tangent came to an end, and I heaved a massive, exhausted breath as Theo kneaded my scalp gingerly. “If I take my bandages off, I can’t put them back on again. I don’t know if I’m ready to take that step, Theo.”
“Illya.” Resting his chin on my crown, Theo sighed heavily through his nose, and I gulped down the dense lump in my throat. “No one really knows anything until they try it. There’s never a sure answer— you can always be surprised by how you react to something. And, yeah, Carlyle’s a dick, but if you stay on his good side, he’s not going to be a dick to you. He says it all the time that he really likes you. I think you should take that at face value and not worry about how he treats others.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Look at what he did to his own brother.” My grumble muffled in Theo’s chest as we turned to walk along the tombstones, and I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth. “That DVD he gave me . . . I was Sylvie’s best friend for years— half a decade— and when I watched her basically get murdered, there was nothing. I didn’t expect that. I wasn’t horrified or sick or even glad or . . . or anything.”
“She hurt you, but either not that bad or your friendship wasn’t as strong as you thought it was, Illya. Sylvie was around so you didn’t feel alone, but how good a friend was she, really? As far as Carlyle giving you that DVD in the first place, I think he did it out of what tiny good place he has in his heart. Ignoring everything, she got some rich guy trapped. That says a lot about her character that she’d be willing to put someone through that for her own selfishness.” I knew Theo was talking about the baby, not Mateo, and he tugged gently on my hair. “If you did that to me, I’d probably kill you, too.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I can’t have kids, then.” His grim smirk was so deep I felt it through my hair, and I reached to grab his right hand and press it against my abdomen. Warm and hard, he put just a tiny bit of pressure to my bandages, and his other hand tightened in my hair. “When I was sixteen, two years after the accident, I decided to get a hysterectomy. I was dating my first boyfriend, the one I showed my scars to, and if I did get pregnant by accident, all sorts of horrible shit would happen to my body. Despite all her faults, my aunt was actually the one that pushed it the hardest even before we were told the insurance would cover it.”
“Whatever happened to him, anyway?” Pausing our journey just before one particular headstone, I turned to Theo as rage blazed in his eyes and tightened his tone.
“I don’t know. He never talked to me again, just disappeared despite having the same circle of friends. My mom always told me that if a guy does that, not to get hung up on him.” Gesturing to the light-colored marble, I smiled sadly as Theo’s gaze flickered to it only to jump back to me. “She used to talk about guys a lot, and how I should never compromise myself. I should never move for a guy, even across the street. I should never let a guy do anything that made me uncomfortable, from paying for something and up.”
“Your mom’s a badass.” Turning to the gravestone, Theo tightened his grip on my shoulders and head as I hummed in agreement. “She raised you to get through this shitstorm. It always amazes me how normal you are, Illya.”
“Normal.” My mom’s headstone glowed in the bright sun of late morning, and I sat down to cross my legs in the lush, green grass. I didn’t understand the concept of considering the dead just because they were dead, and no emotions tightened my chest as I stared at the name scrawled elegantly into the marble. “I guess that’s a good word to use.”
Theo dropped down behind me, draping his legs around mine, and I leaned back against his chest to soak up his warmth. Today was beautiful, but I couldn’t enjoy it as my gut rot intensified. Tilting my head to stare at my dad and twin brother’s stones, I licked my lips heavily as anxiety gnawed at the back of my throat.
“Things have been normal, haven’t they? Am I just waiting for something awful to happen?” My murmur earned me silence, and I closed my eyes to lean heavier against him. Settling his hands on my shoulders, Theo squeezed and rubbed softly, and I wished that just a little bit of his security would seep through my skin. “What if I’m not cut out for normal?”
“Then we’ll just have to find something you’re kickass at. That’s what life’s about, Illya— it never stops. Only the lucky ones find that security.” My lip twitched up, and Theo buried his nose in my hair to breathe a heavy, hot sigh that rolled down the back of my neck. “We’re just lucky to be alive.”
33
Theo
Today was apparently soul-searching day, and I reached to rub the back of my neck absently as Illya poked around in the gas station. Springfield was nice, everything was clean, and this was definitely a place I’d like to come vacation if the urge ever took me. Leaning on the checkout counter a little ways from the register, I watched her carefully, so carefully, pick up every single item on the shelf, look at the ingredients, and decide she didn’t want it before putting it back.
“Your girlfriend’s really picky, isn’t she?” The Boston twang of the cashier wasn’t laced with snark or anything. In fact, she sounded kinda sad, and I glanced over with a curt nod. Her teenage face kinda fell, and I frowned under furrowed brows before turning back to Illya. She picked up a protein bar and rocked back on her heels, but my mind caught on the cashier’s question.
Was Illya my girlfriend? We’d never talked about it— we just ate together, practically lived together at this point. I fingered her, and she blew me, and then we fell asleep together.
What the fuck kind of dumbass question was that? Of course, we were together.
“This one.” Illya sauntered over to set her protein bar on the counter, and I didn’t bother pulling out my wallet just so she could tell me to fuck off. She paid the stupid dollar easily, and my gaze flickered to the check folded neatly in one of her wallet pockets.
“Do you want to stop somewhere and grab some lunch, and you can eat that on the way home?” Posing my question as we left the gas station, I swung my arm over her shoulders as Illya shook her head. “I’ll get something somewhere. I’m starving.”
“I thought you’d try to talk me out of going to my uncle’s house.” Shrugging as I pulled my keys out of my pocket, I flexed my bad hand as tension zinged up my arm. “Why not?”
“Why would I? Honestly, Illya, I don’t know enough about your shitty uncle to have an opinion. If you want to avoid being home and the fact that you work on Monday with this shit, which option is worse? That’s how it looks to me, at least.” And it was true— I didn’t know, and I didn’t really care. Illya came here on her own suggesti
on, which meant that her anxiety over Carlyle was worse than her lifelong teenage trauma. “I’m having a nice time, though.”
“Oh, that’s good.” A smirk tilted my lips, and I squeezed her to my side as I remotely unlocked my car. “I don’t even know if they still live there. Maybe they moved. I don’t know which I want more— them to be there or not.”
“I guess we’re gonna find out.” There wasn’t much else I could say unless Illya said it first. What little I knew about these people, they were scum. Parting from me to head to the passenger side, she furrowed her brows troublingly, and I pursed my lips thinly. This wasn’t exactly what I wanted to do with my day off, but I wasn’t stupid. Illya and I both had our ups and downs. We both had moments when we wanted something bad enough to say it, and then regretted it.
Like fucking her brains out. When she told me so many weeks ago that she’d work with Carlyle, I couldn’t think of anything but how accessible she’d be to me. We’d turn up the heat, do the thing, bump the uglies.
But it didn’t turn out like that. For all that talk, I wouldn’t blow her back out just because I wanted to. It had to mean something. It had to be special. Maybe, my not having been laid in a couple years made the notion more romanticized, but that was the easy way out.
I was in love with Illya, and I wasn’t going to fuck her until I knew she was in love with me, too. What kind of bullshit is that?
“Hey, Theo?” Humming softly in acknowledgment as I pulled forward, I glanced at the road under furrowed brows, and Illya sighed before continuing. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Do you not want to go?” My probe gave me the exact reaction I was expecting— nothing. Illya sort of shrugged, her expression unchanging, and I wasn’t sure if she was talking about working or visiting her uncle. “A bad feeling about what?”