Hexed (Never After, #6)

by Emily McIntire

You can’t ever count on a man, but you can always count on the poison that will kill him…or whatever that saying is.

I should have never claimed I wanted to be a better person. It’s not like I meant it anyway. Being good is overrated. Now the universe is mocking me.

“Sounds like you haven’t met the right man.” She smiles back, and her eyes dance with mirth. “Sounds like something the wrong man would say.”

That’s the thing about grief, I guess. It steals the air from your lungs just as you’ve finally figured out how to breathe.

I don’t know a single person in the world who would dare speak to me the way she just did. It’s both refreshing and off-putting in equal measure.

Wanting things you can’t have does nothing beneficial. It only muddles the mind and keeps people from achieving greatness. Besides, if I really need something, I simply take it.

“He’s about to be family,” I retort. “Sometimes family fucks you over.” Well, he’s got me there.

“Watch your mouth,” he says slowly, his New York accent coming through strong, dropping the r and elongating the vowels. “You won’t disrespect yourself to me.”

“I don’t have to know you to see the same thing in your eyes that lives in mine, and I get the distrust, and the walls, and the being constantly on guard. I respect it. But I promise you don’t have to do that with me. Just be real, okay?”

If it will make you happy. I don’t know if anyone has ever said those words to me. It’s dangerous how much I like the way it feels.

“Stai zitto,”

Goddamn. She’s unhinged in a visceral way that makes her ruthlessness look like art, and I’m hypnotized by the sight of her.

She walks toward the door and gestures for me to follow. “You coming, Lover Boy?” I’m not sure where we’re headed, but after what just happened, I think I’d follow her anywhere.

“See ya later, Lover Boy,” she calls to my back. I’m in the room again and on her before I can think twice, pushing until she’s flush against the sink, and I lean down so my lips skim along the shell of her ear. “It’s Enzo.” And then I turn and leave before I’ll do something that both of us will regret. Because it isn’t her I’m supposed to want.

Getting emotionally attached is a death sentence, and while no one can outrun death, I plan to evade it for as long as possible.

If you had asked me a couple of weeks ago, I’d say connections like this with people you’ve just met don’t really exist. They’re fairy tales. Delusory. But I guess it’s easy to pretend things are unrealistic if you’ve never experienced them yourself.

A small grin tilts his mouth. “I saw you the second you started tailing us.” I scoff and look over at him fully. “No, you didn’t.” He finally takes his eyes away from the happy family to stare at me. “I always see you.”

He licks his lips. “In fact, I can’t see anything but you, and it’s fucking infuriating.”

“I already told you,” he utters. “I see you. Even when you look away.”

“If I shouldn’t kill you…” He looks at me from the corner of his eye before staring back out at the water. “Then what should I do with you?” A warning siren blares in my head, screaming, Danger! Danger! Do not answer! I ignore it. “Whatever you want,” I reply.

I’m fucking gone while I watch her. The world could light itself on fire behind us, and I don’t think I’d care.

“Do you always let the people you love off the hook so easily for treating you like shit?” It’s really a rhetorical question, because even in the short time I’ve known her, I can tell she does. Everyone in her life treats her as an afterthought.

Sometimes when you open up old wounds, the weight of them makes you feel you’re sinking in quicksand. The humor is a way to drag yourself back out, to find a little hope when everything around you feels like it’s pushing you down.

She makes me…feel. And maybe it’s nonsensical, but it is what it is.

“It’s okay to be scared of things,”

“It’s what makes us human. What makes us real,” I continue. “Some of us don’t have that luxury.” “Because of who you are?” I press. “Because of who I’m supposed to be.”

“I can take care of myself,” I say, the same way I always do. He reaches out to grip my chin, tilting my face up to meet his. “I know. But just because you can doesn’t mean you should have to.”

“Well, sometimes what we want doesn’t matter.” I try to make my voice sound stern, but I don’t think it works based on the way it wobbles as it hits the air. His face lowers until it’s next to my ear. “Sometimes…it feels like you’re the only thing that does.”

“I need you to fuck me.” “You need me to take care of you,” I correct. “To put you first. I won’t let you turn this into a one-night stand. Not when it’s more, and you know it.

“In a different life…” I pause, emotion suddenly clogging my throat. “I’d love you out loud.”

To making memories… Happy birthday.—Enzo

I stare at her with what I’m sure is a goofy-ass grin on my face. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks. My smile widens. “Like what?” “Like you’re happy to see me.”

“I’m going to kiss you. And I promise it will be the best one of my life.” “How do you know?” My thumb slips along her lower lip, my eyes following the movement. “Because it’s with you.” And then I capture her lips with mine.

“I know you’re used to taking control, to having everything at your beck and call, but when it’s us, I want you to relax and let go. Let me take care of you. Can you do that for me, baby?”

I love her. It’s fast, but I don’t give a fuck. In this life especially, you never know when your time is up, and I’m not willing to waste another second without her. Sometimes things happen beyond explanation, beyond what we believe to be realistic. The universe doesn’t give a fuck about any of that.

I looked at Venesa and my world tilted on its axis, altering my view forever. There is one thing I’m certain of: her. She’s the only thing that matters.

“The truth is, Yrsa Venesa Andersen, my soul knew you were its other half the moment I laid eyes on you. You have changed me. Irrevocably. I don’t want you in a different life. I need you in this one and all the ones we’ll have after.”

“Let me make new memories with you every single day, piccola sirena. Do me the honor of allowing me to be your husband, and I’ll love you so goddamn loudly, everyone will hear.”

“Yes,” she says. “I’ll marry you. Now get off your knees, Lover Boy.”

“I love you,” she breathes.

“I love you too, baby.”

“When are you going to realize I see you? Always?”

“Happy birthday, piccola sirena. Now…go make a memory.”