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Every October 28, since 1955, a year after the Cold Point murder, the residents of Thunder Bay lit candles in their bedroom windows for Reverie Cross on the anniversary of her death.
“That’s the thing about broken people, Guillaume. If we ever give you our heart, then you know that you deserve it.”
“I’m just…not a happy person, Will. And you’re right, I never will be.”
the spell will break and the night will be over because you’re not the same in the sun.
I was still obsessed and small-minded,
I didn’t want her to know that was true. Ever.
I ate the bitch with no hesitation and no mercy.
Like harder than prison, detox, and the Doris Day double-feature at the drive-in my mother asked me to take her to when I was seventeen. Combined.
The Carfax Room hides us from what we want gone.
“She was actually not well off. And she was okay with that, because he loved her anyway. Nothing else mattered to him.”
Children of the Corn vibe.
I squealed, laughing as Will dragged me through the trees,
“I love seeing you laugh.”
I laughed, squeezing his hand and gazing up at the chandelier above us. Its faux candles cast a soft light against the black ceiling, changing the darkness from frightening to mysterious in a way that made me want to live in its beauty.
A lantern, a candle, a— An idea occurred to me about the gazebo and the trees around it in the park—decorating them with chandeliers. A dozen chandeliers hanging in the branches above, lighting up the canopy of leaves.
He gazed down with an entranced look in his eyes like he’d just been watching something so interesting as he stared at me.
“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”
“God, I wanna knock you up,” he said, rising up and looking down at me as he took out a condom. “I want to ruin you for all the times you made me think you didn’t want me. I want to give you a piece of me you’ll never be able to escape.”
“You can ignore me. You can run,”
“But you’re going to be fucking mine someday,” he growled. “Come hell or high water, Emory Scott. You’re my woman, and you’re going to come home to me every day and sit at my table and warm my fucking bed.” He kissed me. “And you’re going to give me a Will Grayson IV.
Mark my words.”
This would never be as good with anyone else. I was fucked, and he’d already had his revenge.
“You’re Lilith,” he whispered against my skin. “You can’t be burned if you’re the flame.”
Part of all this shit was my fault, but not all of it.
Me, coming home to him every night. Me, at his table and warming his bed. Me, making him a daddy.
Little nerd by day who likes it a little hard at night.”
“Part of me wishes I could have you,” she said. “Part of me wishes you were my man,
“Everything will be real tomorrow,”
You’ve been blowing my mind for forever.
Morning! Smile. Or don’t. It’s completely your choice. Don’t let a guy tell you you’re prettier when you do. You don’t need to be pretty for anyone. Your value does not rely on my opinion. Damn the patriarchy.
“It’s not enough,” he said in a low voice. “Not even nearly enough. All I think about now is how I want last night all over again, but this time in my car, in my bed, in your bed, in the shower, outside…”
A smile curled Damon’s lips as he lifted his finger and wagged it at me.
“Everything is real,”
“I know something’s wrong. I know it. Tell me.”
“Don’t you know you can have anything you want?” he repeated his words from a couple of weeks ago. “I’d hurt anyone for you. Who the hell is it?”
Last night was it for me. I don’t want anyone else but you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, sobbing quietly as I started running. Will.
Competition? Is that what she is?
“You give me a ride, and I’ll pay for the pizza and margaritas,”
“Like a drink or a good cry or to jump on a plane and see something new?” she continues. “But then none of those things are it, and you still can’t figure out what it is you need?”
I’d woken up with a splitting headache, and then I hated her more for the hangover, but… she texted, she called, she checked up on me over the months until I was convinced that I might actually be likable.
folded the tie slowly and stuck it in the Ziploc bag, followed by my Cove Ride-All-Day bracelet from last night, and the collapsed, empty box of Milk Duds he got me at the movie theater.
his legs and then arms.
“When you’re ready to deal with him.”
“There’s a tear in the membrane today. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Her name is Nik, but everyone calls her Banks.” He met my eyes again. “If something happens, and I can’t be there for her—if they arrest me for this—you need to go to my house and help her. She doesn’t have anyone else. You understand?”
“I’m not sure anyone else would’ve helped me bury a body,”
“I forgot you had a method of dealing with your problems, after all, unlike the rest of us weaklings.” I flared my eyes. What the fuck? How the hell did she know about me using? Goddammit.
Alex was like Damon. They loved me. They indulged my dark side. They were too forgiving and too enabling.
Emory taught me that not everything I wanted was going to come easy.
