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“I want all of you. Every single part of you. I want to know everything about you: all your history, and every thought that comes into your head. Every desire, no matter how dark or how perverse. Every fantasy, no matter how impossible it may seem. And most of all, Mara, I want to occupy your thoughts like you occupy mine. I want you obsessed with me, bound to me, dependent on me. I want you to live for me, not just with me.”
It’s never enough for him to get what he wants—it has to be exactly the way he wants it.
The man who never cared about anyone is fixated on the girl nobody gave a shit about. In some twisted way, we’re made for each other.
“You deserve to be here as much as anyone. More than anyone. You’re talented, Mara, really fucking talented. You’re already a star. Everyone else doesn’t know it yet, but I do. You’re going to make art that makes people think and cry and burn with envy.”
Some mistake has been made: I died, heaven exists, and they let me in.
“You threaten everything I thought I knew, and everything I believed.”
“At first it was against my will,” I tell her. “But now I’m all in. I have to have you. Even if it blows up my life.”
Mara catches my thumb in her teeth, biting down. “You’re not tame yourself.” I like how hard she bites, the little savage.
She’s out of her fucking mind, and so am I. Our madness aligns in all the right ways.
This woman’s pettiness could fuel a dictatorship. She’s Lenin and Stalin and Mussolini all rolled into one.
Cole looks at me. “Are you ready to kill him yet?”
“Are you coming back now?” I ask him. “I’m almost there already. I’m driving like it’s the Grand Prix. Come stand at the window so I can see you as I pull up.” Impulsively, I unfasten the straps of my overalls and step out of them. I pull off my shirt and my underwear as well. Then I step up onto the window frame, completely nude, looking down at the street below. I see Cole’s black Tesla zoom up to the curb, stopping short with a jerk. He steps out, tall and lean, his long dark hair tossed back by the wind. He looks up at me. I press my palm against the glass, phone to my ear. “Fucking hell,”
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“What does it feel like?” “It feels like I’ll do anything for you. Jump off a bridge for you, turn myself inside out for you. It feels like madness, and I never want it to end.” Cole considers this, his dark eyes roaming over my face. “Then I must be in love,” he says. “Because that’s what I feel, too.”
“I’m surprised they’re willing to make it,” I say to Cole. “Aren’t they worried about people getting lost?” Cole laughs wickedly. “I told them it was like a corn maze. They think people will love it.” “You’re a sadist.” He kisses me, biting my lip hard enough to draw blood. “You fucking know it.”
“Give me a little credit,” he scoffs. “Whatever else I may be, I was never a man who had to tear a woman down to shine bright beside her. If you’re not as good as me, then you’re no good at all. And when I saw you, Mara … I thought, this girl is really fucking good. I don’t want to hold you down, chop you down, diminish you in any way. I already know I found something special. Now it’s time for everyone else to see it.”
“Cole,” I say, breaking the still silence. Immediately he replies, “Yes?” “We have to kill Shaw.” He lets out a small breath of air that might be amusement. “I know that. I’ve known it all along. You’re finally catching up.”
“You owe me for that one,” Cole murmurs in my ear. “Betsy has a buyer lined up for The Burial. But I had to let her run her hands all over my chest for that entire conversation. I’m practically your gigolo these days.” “Yeah, you want a commission?” I tease him. “Or you just want to run your hands over someone’s chest …” Cole lets his eyes roam down the front of my jacket, slipping his arm around my waist and pulling me close. “That might suffice …”
You can meet me at a pub called The Black Dog.”
The itch to remove him from existence became physical.
“You want me to call his boss?” she says. “Or better yet—I’ll call Cole.” “No need. I told him off myself.” “I’ll bet you did,” Sonia grins approvingly. “You’re turning into quite the little hellcat.”
We’re wrapped together, twisted up. Not one snake but two, the black and the white. We are the same. And I like what we are.
