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There is a reason that all things are as they are. —Bram Stoker, Dracula
“Now . . .” my sister’s new husband whispered in my ear. “Now you belong to me.”
He made himself the cure, which wouldn’t have been necessary if he hadn’t also created the disease.
Life felt like hell because we expected it to feel like heaven. The quote I read years ago went something like that, but I never understood it. When you’re in the thick all your life, living in ways you eventually figure out no one else is, you learn to sleep well in heat and eat fire. Until one day it’s all you need. It was heaven I didn’t trust. High hopes and false expectations . . .
Just spread your fucking legs and let me have my way. That’s what you’re here for.
I need her to hurt me because pain covers up pain, and if I feel one, I won’t feel the other. I need her to push back down what tries to crop back up.
Everything she said, I made her say, because we could only feel one pain at a time, and maybe if I could pile on enough dirt, I’d get so buried I wouldn’t be able to think.
People assumed I behaved strictly on impulse, when actually, it required quite a bit of strategy to be this fucked up.
“Because pain in the body quiets the pain in the head. It feels good, like a kill switch for your brain.
“You teach your daughter to hide in everyone else’s world,” I shot back, “and I’ll teach mine everyone else exists in hers. Go fuck yourself, and leave the kid alone.”
Nothing she did would be wrong. It was their fault for looking.
In fact, he was kind of an angel at the end. An angel with really black bat wings. Psycho.
The secret of life that everyone knew and everyone forgot was that we weren’t alone. We thought we were unique. We thought we were the first.
People were priceless. The things we told ourselves to justify giving up and falling in line like we had to accept anything less than what we wanted. Like fighting for your dream was a bad thing.
“I may still want what I want, but I have no control over people who don’t want me to have it.”
“You’re different than them,” I whispered, pulling off her shirt to feel her tits against my chest. “Different than my friends. Different than Ari. Different than my parents, my sister, and every woman. You see everything.”
“After everything that was happening in that house happened to him.” “It’s no excuse,” I pointed out. And she agreed. “No, it’s not.” she said. “It’s a reason. Plain and simple. There’s always a reason why things are as they are.”
I made her happy. Me. And instead of sticking to the plan and making her hate that she wanted me, I hated that I still wanted her. None of it was a lie, except my name. It was real, and I wanted it again. I fucking loved her. Goddammit.
“What’s your tattoo?” I asked quietly, remembering how my friend noticed he had one. He didn’t say anything for a moment, or ask how I knew, but then he answered, “A decaying snowflake.” I raised my eyebrows. A decaying . . . “Why?” I asked. “Because of ‘Winter’ by Walter de la Mare,” he replied softly. “Something still beautiful, even after what I did to her.”
His mother and what she did to him. He didn’t like that, and the reason had to do with her. “Why did you let me?” I asked, keeping my tone soft.
“I didn’t even think about it until it was over,” he whispered. “It was like she wasn’t here. It was just you.” He sucked in a breath and tightened his arms around me. “I love you,” he said.
“Men don’t feel ashamed for enjoying sex on their terms. You shouldn’t either.”
“They won’t fear us because we’re armed. They’ll fear us because we never fail.”
I stared at her, thinking about all the times that would come up over the years ahead, when she would think we’d move faster without her. Have more fun without her. Get to enjoy the full extent of an adventure without her. Have more freedom without her hanging on. I wasn’t living like that. I wouldn’t let her live like that.
If I ever thought I couldn’t do something with her, then I wasn’t doing it at all.
“Your place is at my side,” I told her. “Say it.” She whispered, “My place is at your side.” “Louder.” I shook her gently, but my tone was firm. “My woman doesn’t ask permission. She’s a force. Say it louder.” Her chin started to tremble, but her voice burst out strong. “My place is at your side.”
“We’re going to rule the world, Rika.” I held out my hands, grinning. “You, Banks, and me.”
