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For me, she’s like a treasured painting in a museum, open to view, but marked with a brass sign warning “Do Not Touch.”
What the fuck am I doing? The plan was just to check up on her and head back the moment I knew everything was all right. It didn’t include slicing my forearm open just so I could talk to her again. Or contemplating doing it again tomorrow. And the day after that.
“You just told me you’ve been stalking me. Isn’t that a good reason to be scared?” “I wouldn’t call it stalking. Your safety is important to me, so I drop by from time to time.”
“Real monsters rarely look like one.”
“If you give me your name, then I’ll need to give something back. That’s how conversations work.” “And what’s wrong with that?” “There’s nothing wrong with it. I just don’t have much to give.”
“No singing tonight?” “Not that kind of place.” “Mm-hmm . . . I don’t know much about music, but you were quite bad.”
“I can’t believe I’m discussing houseplants with the guy who’s been stalking me.”
“I guess I don’t have to give you my address,” I say. The corners of my stalker’s mouth tilt up by a minuscule degree. If I wasn’t openly looking at him, I would have missed it. “No.”
“Everything dies, tiger cub. Dogs. Cats. People. From the moment we’re born, we’re all heading in the same direction. Toward our death. It’s how life works.”
I snort. “Word of advice for you. If you ever get invited to deliver a motivational speech, decline.”
“I don’t like anyone touching my hair,” he says. I suck in a breath. Considering all the pinching, prodding, and squeezing I’ve done while patching him up, I didn’t expect that he would care if I touched his hair. “I won’t do it again.” His eyes lower to my lips, and linger there for a heartbeat. Then, he quickly looks away. “I don’t mind when you do it, cub.”
“Why don’t you like it when someone touches your hair?” I whisper. “It’s the only thing that’s mine.”
“You have unique principles for a stalker.”
I have no idea why she allows this weird relationship of ours to continue.
“I can’t.” I grit my teeth. “I can’t read, cub.”
Monsters like me are not allowed to dream, and I never have. Not until I met her. For the first time in my life, I see the possibility of having something of my own. Her. My tiger cub.
Am I back to being a fucking stalker? Yup, but it means I get to continue keeping her safe.
“Everything is gray and empty. You are my lifeline, tiger cub, because there is no life for me if you’re not in it.”
“Over ninety-nine million,” I growl as I keep slamming into her. “That’s how many seconds I’ve spent without you.
“Will you tell me about her? About . . . our daughter.”
“Will you tell me where you were all this time?” “In hell, cub. Instead of seeing my baby girl being born, I was in hell. Where I belong.”
“You, my tiger cub, were the only thing I remembered.” He lowers his head and buries himself inside me. “My everything.”
It felt like I was observing a miracle. How could something so perfect and innocent ever come from me? Would I taint her if I touched her? Would I stain her with my sins?
“I’m hungry, Rapunzel-boy.” Another tiny whisper, but more determined now than before. I blink. Rapunzel-boy? Must be the hair. I just had a shower and didn’t braid it as I normally do. Lucia scrunches her tiny nose at me and spins around, running away. I dash after her.
“I want to eat, Rapunzel-boy.” Lucia grins at me while tugging on my hair.
“I want cookies, Rapunzel-boy. And ketchup. And pickles.”
“I don’t think he’s been around kids much. Look at his face. He seems utterly terrified.”
“I’m not taking chances with my girls’ lives. The pricks you have as security couldn’t guard a damn library.”
“No, Milene. We’re not getting another cat. Two is more than enough . . . No, we’re not getting a hamster, either . . . I know they are small. It’s still a no, cara mia . . . Yes, I’m a very bad person. Love you, too.”
Ajello oh how I love u and Milene
“I have a nicky name, Mommy. Rapunzel-boy loves me, too.”
Are you my daddy, Rapunzel-boy?”
“You are my reason for living, cub. And, in this life, I don’t need a signature or a ceremony to confirm that you’re mine. You are. And I’m yours, every cell of my body. Till my dying breath. And even when I perish, in whatever afterlife awaits.” He cups my cheek in his palm and bends his head so our noses are almost touching. “But I want to do this thing right.” “So you had three priests kidnapped?” I choke out, trying to hold back tears. “Just two, apparently. And a judge. Will you marry me, tiger cub?”
“I’m a fucking judge!” the black-gowned man screeches, throwing his tied-up hands in the air. “I’m going to put all of you lunatics in jail!” “I love weddings,” Sergei chirps on my right. “I should have brought snacks.”
“You know, I only had one priest at my wedding,” he says. “Three makes it so much merrier. When you guys are done here, I’m taking them to Chicago to have them marry me and my wife all over again. Angelina is going to love it . . .”
Sergi🤣
“. . . Maybe I can find a real Catholic priest on my way home? If I can’t, the judge will have to do,” Sergei continues. “Do you think my wife would notice the difference?”
“Your priest number three just fainted!”
“Is he really taking them with him?” I ask, watching Kai’s blond-haired friend trying to stuff the poor judge into the trunk of his SUV. The two priests are sitting tied and gagged in his back seat.
“Your guests.” Kai’s pal theatrically bows, motioning with his hand toward the bus. “Baby?” I nudge Kai with my elbow. “Is that what I think it is?” “Yes. That maniac hijacked someone’s entire wedding for us.” He turns around and scoops me into his arms. “I’m sorry. I really wanted to do it right this time. We can send that idiot away and have a normal wedding later this week.”
“Third time’s the charm?” I laugh. “Yes. That asshole downstairs married his wife again, using our priests and the judge. There’s no way I’m letting fucking Belov have more weddings than us, tiger cub.”
