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To all the readers who complain that my heroes are always irredeemable jerks… I’m afraid I have terrible news.
May the flowers remind us why the rain was so necessary. —Xan Oku
In chess, a bad bishop is a bishop that is blocked by its own pawns, making its scope and the number of squares it can control very limited. A bad bishop is considered irredeemable.
“Why me?” I asked Vello. “You have a last name and are above killing women.” “Glowing endorsement, but I killed three.” Chiara gasped. I never said they didn’t deserve it. Sue me for being an equal opportunity feminist.
“First of all, I’m not your friend. Second, Gealach means moon in Irish.” A joyless smirk found his lips. “Moon?” “Mm. The first time I saw you, you were drowning in the night. I was in pain and in a terrible fucking mood. And you glowed. You shone so bright, I couldn’t look away.” His chest expanded with an inhale, and he frowned to himself. “You were my first dream, I think.”
“Kept what?” “Your eye. I came back for it. I don’t know why.” His mouth broke into a devious smirk. I forgot how much he liked those dark parts of me. “Where?” “A jar. Full of isopropyl. Imma helped me.” I pressed my lips together. “I buried it in our garden. You can have it back, if you want.” “It’s yours.” He kicked back, eyeing me humorously. “You can have all my organs.”
Insane :))))
I always thought a bullet would finish me off. But in the end, it was my wife that turned out to be my demise. She didn’t even do anything special. Nibbled on a slice of pizza while sitting in my lap, dangling her feet in the air, reminding me of our diabolical height difference.
“I would never hurt you like that.” I found my voice, opening my eye. “Even if I wanted to. Even if you begged me to. Even if you cheated on me. Even if you killed me.” And then, because it felt too raw, too real, I added, “Protecting you is a compulsion at this point. I’d stop the night from falling if darkness scares you, Lila.”
“I love you with a force that could destroy planets and universes, Lila.”
I will love this baby as my own, because anything born of you is bound to be perfection. He will be mine. And I would kill for him. Die for him.” The words rushed over my skin, heating it with pleasure even my orgasms couldn’t give me. Nourishing me back to life. “But make no mistake,” Tiernan continued. “I will always love you more. Than him. Than me. Than this world. My love for you is not pretty, or flowery, or romantic. But it’s real, and it’s everlasting.”
He raised his hands, unveiling a small hearing aid in his palm. It was a clear small tube attached to something that looked like a USB. “Your doctor told me you won’t be able to hear the nuance of the music, but you can follow the soundwaves.”
“I love you.” My heart skipped a beat. I heard him. His voice was rough. Husky. Beautiful. “I wanted it to be the first thing you’ll ever hear,” he explained. “So I’ll say it again—I. Love. You.”
But before I could do any of that, Tiernan pushed the doors open and in front of me stood a lush, huge ballroom. A live orchestra sat on a stage, musicians poised and swathed in formalwear.
“May I humbly ask for the pleasure of a dance with you, Lila?” He bowed his head, and I realized I heard him because he spoke, not because I could read his lips.
Music. Sound. Love. This man had given me so many things. And we almost never happened. It took a terrorizing tragedy to put us in each other’s paths.
Tiernan cupped my cheeks, staring down at me. “Hey, Moon.” “Hey, Sun.” I put my hands on his, keeping them on my face. I leaned into his palm. “Thank you for this dance.” I closed my eyes, breathing him in. “Thank you for this life.”
“What’s that?” Enzo stuck his head next to mine, looking down. “She missed prosciutto during the pregnancy.” “Let me guess, so you bought an entire drove of pigs?” I wondered how mad she’d be if I relieved her brother of a few of his organs. “No.” I glowered at the idiot. “But I did order seventeen different types from Parma to make sure she has variety.” “Man, you’re so whipped all you need is a cherry on your head.” “Keep running your mouth and the room will turn red,” I warned. Enzo snorted. “Stop seducing me, bro. I’m into chicks.”
