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“LUNA!” Kinney shrieks in pure terror. Her voice jolts me. She’s watching. I try to push at the bookcase and support the weight for my sister. My arms tremble, tendons screaming in my forearms and shoulders. It’s too heavy. It’s coming down. I am the creator of my own doom. “Kin—” I start, but her name is torn out of my throat as someone barrels towards me. Mom.
Her wide panicked eyes are on this impending demise, and quickly, she clutches the frame of the bookcase—the bookcase that’s at least three arm-spans wide. The bookcase that nearly swallows my entire wall. The bookcase that’s seconds from crushing me.
“Okay, we need reinforcements,” Mom realizes in a quick, panting breath. “Lo! Lo! LOREN HALE GET YOUR BUTT UP HERE!!” Her panicked words in a scream do the trick.
This minute. This second. I inhale slowly. “Small hurdles, you know?” Xander says quietly. “You can do that. I know you can, sis. You’re way stronger than me.”
Farrow tips his head. “That’s definitely debatable.” “Debatable, okay.” Dad nods a lot and paces a short distance back and forth. “You know what? I have a serious problem with you right now and it’s not even funny.” Oh no.
Realizations wash over me about the same time that Farrow’s expression changes shape. I think we’re both understanding just how much this would’ve meant something to my dad. He loves Ryke to his deepest, rawest core, and I wonder if he’s reevaluated everything Farrow has ever said about Donnelly.
I know that Ryke and Rose’s friendship matters to me. Connor and Daisy matter to me. Willow and Daisy matter. Garrison and Lily matter. Just like you and Donnelly are going to matter to me. Hell, you both may even annoy me.”
“You should call your aunt. Rose was ranting on the phone for over an hour about the types of people trying to ridicule your writing. She called them pigs. Or swine. Maybe both.”
“You know, pussies and I have a longstanding history, and they usually love me.”
Being on Lo’s shitlist, I can handle, but if I’m on Lily’s, I dunno…I think I’d still go fling myself off this planet and sob.
“We can be more than friends after I take care of my family situation. But I made a promise to your dad to wait for you, and I am very shit at keeping my promises to him. But this one, I want to keep. I need to keep.”
Is Ryke Meadows’ secretly Loren Hale’s hit man?
Thatcher just looks pissy, but that’s his normal face.
Rose hates me.
Good luck.
Lo adds, “Don’t cross the demon or you’ll get clawed.” Connor tips his head to Lo. “You know how that feels best of all, darling.” Lo touches his heart.
“We’re not having sex.” Anymore. It’s a half-truth. “And I’m a virgin,” Charlie says as though it’s obviously a lie.
Fuck him and die. I’d rather be living on the other side of this trope. Fuck him and survive. Why can’t that be my reality?
Charlie and Eliot are alike in some ways—it’s the Loki in them, the destructive, mischief-wielding power they cradle and toss like bombs. But they’re also so vastly different.
Now Epsilon is becoming a buncha Thatcher Moretti clones, and there should only be one of him.
“Seeing you do that to Luna now with this new context changes everything.” His lips rise. “You know what the most shocking part is?” “That you didn’t see it sooner?” I guess. “No, deception is strong with you. It’s that you asked for permission first.” His gaze veers over to Donnelly. “From her father. Why?” “Shits and giggles,” Donnelly says, fitting the cigarette between his lips. “I’d only be shitting myself confronting Uncle Loren with that,” Tom notes. “I’d just be giggling,” Eliot says.
“Lo knows I can’t have my family thinking I’m in love with her.” “Love?” Eliot’s grin has exploded. He buttons his slacks with an amused, delighted laugh. Tom is grinning now too. He told my best friends he’s trying to date me. That he loves me. It’s sinking in, and I feel my smile mushroom. Donnelly shares the grin. “You think I would do all of this just for a girl I sort of like?” “This is beautiful,” Eliot says, “and tragic all at the same time.”
“Lava lamp, ceiling, Moondragon—new life update: I now severely hate her asshole of an ex.”
“Call Monroe.” She speaks to the car’s Bluetooth hookup. “Calling Mom,” the automated voice replies. “Nononono!” Mom freaks as the phone rings over the car’s speakers. “Hang up!”
“Call Lo,” Mom tells the car. “Calling Mom,” the automated voice replies. “No!” Mom yells. “CALL LO!”
“Can you just tell me how long I’ve been here? In the hospital?” How long have I been asleep? “Have I missed years?” “No,” he says with certainty. I inhale a stronger breath. “Months?” “It’s barely been six hours,” Farrow says.
“They’ll make it out. Luna. Lily. They look small, but they’re tough.”
Cause it’s okay to put yourself first and chase after the things you want or run away from the things you don’t. Life’s too short to try to be perfect for everyone else.”
No one looks thrilled to see Grandmother Calloway, who’s more accurately referred to as the Crow. Mostly by me.
“Oh, be quiet, Rose,” the Crow retorts. “For once, in your life, just shut up.” “Excuse me?” Rose’s eyes flame. “Samantha.” Connor walks over quickly. He touches the small of Rose’s back. His other hand dives into Rose’s hand. “Now’s not the time. You need to leave.”
“Will you?” she snaps. “No, we fucking won’t,” Ryke declares.
Wow. Alright. I want to smoke, but I can’t in a hospital. “Could this night get anymore fucked up?” Farrow stares right at me in a way that decimates my insides. It can.
“I’ve got that effect on people.” I nod to him. “I’m not really into strangling though. I vote hug.”
“Wait here. I’ll be back to talk about Luna.” Lo turns to me. “Take a good look, Paul. Maybe you’ll understand what it means to wait.”
Nah.” I try to breathe in something lighter. “I like the chill on my nipples. Keeps them perked.” He rolls his eyes into a slight smile. “She’s watching you.”
My parents—their souls were intertwined. In my life, their love had always been one-of-a-kind. Stuff of legend and fanfiction, and the fact that it was my reality, that I got to be raised by two soul mates, was a treasure I wouldn’t trade for anything. Not even dirt from Mars or the guarantee I’d write the best sci-fi novel in the world. It was that precious to me.
He cringed at the Rory and Jess drama on the screen. “That reminds me way too much of your Aunt Willow and Uncle Garrison. Gross.”
“Am I a sex addict?” I ask so quietly, I’m unsure if he hears. He drops the burning cigarette into the glass bottle. “You haven’t been diagnosed or anything, but I know you think about it.” “Do you think I’m one?” He shakes his head. “But we also haven’t had sex that many times. You and me—the two of us—we’re fairly new.”
“We could kiss,” I say. “It’d be like an experiment.” He breaks the chair’s momentum again, but this time, I feel like I’ve flung off. While I stare down at him, his expression makes zero sense to me.
“That’s Ali Miller. She’s production.”
Someone's love interest??
“When I was younger, I used to wish everyone would just stop.” His reddened eyes are off to the side. “Stop goddamn worrying about me. It was…suffocating. Even the days where I wasn’t fucking up, they were a reminder that I could. That I have. Then, as I got older, I wondered what it would’ve been like to never have people looking out for me, and I know I wouldn’t be here.” He shakes his head once. “It would’ve been easier to grab a bottle. My brother went to the ends of the earth to stop me from drinking myself into oblivion. But he shouldn’t have had to do that. There are people, family,
...more
“Then I heard you slept with her and strangling you seemed more satisfying than a bottle of Macallan.” Damn. “Glad I could help your sobriety.”
In such a short time, I’ve come to realize this. He’s not easily triggered to fight anymore. He’s not speeding down highways. He’s not afraid of the media seeing his public affection or writing stories about his parentage. He’s happier.
“Luna!” That one voice halts me in place. “Mom?” My voice squeaks, and I can hardly believe what I’m seeing. Is she real? Fairy wings and a starry headband make her appear like a celestial fae. Beneath her armpits are crutches, decorated with silver tinsel. Emotion overtakes me, and I bound towards her. “Mom!”
“You haven’t heard? I’m indestructible. Your dad called me Colossus the other day.”
“I want to,” she whispers, touching my cheek softly. “I’m happy to. I’m your mom. That’s what moms do.” She nods resolutely. I’m shaking my head, hating this reality so very much. I can be Colossus too. I want to tell her that, but I’m not even sure if I believe I’m as strong as my mom.
Her brows bunch, and she goes into immediate Mom Action Mode. Asking for my phone. Screenshotting the number with her own cell. Sending a text to security. All while balancing on crutches. She’s my superhero.
“Having a lot of sex doesn’t make you a slut,” she tells me, adamant. I almost smile. “Pretty sure that’s the definition of a slut, Mom.”
She doesn’t want slut to be a negative thing. For me to talk badly about myself. I get that.
“No, stop,” I tell her. “It’s not you. This is a fucking theme, Mom.” I pace back and forth, hands on my forehead. “Did I even talk to you about what it felt like to have my fics leaked? Because you out of everyone would have understood what that felt like, right? The shame. The fucking shame.” I’m clutching at the watch on my wrist, trying to keep everything together.
“Really?” Charlie swivels to shoot his brothers a look. “You’re letting her watch this shit?” “This is Emmy Award-Winning high-brow shit,” Eliot rebuts.
