Page 112 of Souls and Sorrows

She kisses me then, soaking up the warmth of my words.

“How could I do anything but?”

And when she pushes her face into my neck, burying her emotion in my skin, I stare up at the ceiling and let the truth of my words fall down around us.

There could never have been any other outcome in this relationship, and part of me knew that from the start, I think.

And maybe we aren’t getting the classic fairy-tale dream together.

But I don’t need that anyway.

The nightmares are so much more appealing.

EPILOGUE

Snapping a black latex glove against my wrist, I revel in the spark of pain it shoots up my forearm, and then cross the living room to where Kal stands, sharpening a pair of pliers. He hasn’t made eye contact with me the entire time we’ve been here, and it almost makes me feel bad for asking him to come.

I’m sure he’d much rather be at his oldest’s first ballet practice, making sure she doesn’t do anything too dangerous. But I’d assured him they were only working on their fine motor skills and wouldn’t even be doing more complicated numbers for several weeks.

It helps that Cash’s sister, Lenny, took me up on my incredibly awkward offer to help at the studio part time. Since finishing renovations on the little building about three months ago, I decided to turn it into a miniature academy, and making it an inclusive place where anyone can come and lose themselves in the dance.

Well, any kids. I haven’t started offering adult classes just yet, and I’m not sure if I ever will. The point of the studio is to heal my inner child and give back to the community what I craved at their age—love and acceptance.

And healthy, spirited competition. It is ballet, after all.

It’s the first class I’ve missed since our grand opening, but I feel confident in Lenny’s ability to lead. At Christmas, I’d dragged her brother to Aplana Island for Elena’s birthday celebration, and Lenny had been standing at the security gate, desperate to meet me.

She said she’d always wanted a sister, and that she was adopting Elena by proxy, and we sort of just hit it off after that. I think we have a darkness in common, though neither of us talks about it, instead channeling it into our work.

When she mentioned some ballet experience, I’d suggested she join me at the studio, so now she comes in when she isn’t working with a client, or busy painting something for a gallery across the world.

Kal shoves the metal cart into the fireplace, startling me out of my thoughts. The scowl on his face is unnerving, proof that he wishes he were anywhere else.

He lifts a Zippo lighter to the end of the pliers, and I watch the metal glow bright orange, heating beneath the flame. The silence makes me itch, and I scratch at my forearm absently, glancing around the room.

The apartment’s mostly packed up. Kal bought the building last month and had every resident but one evicted, so that when we ended things, no one else would be affected.

It feels weird being in here, just us three. There’s an energy in the air, something that feels vaguely haunted, and I can’t help wondering if it’s our personal ghosts hanging out, waiting to see if this helps.

I’m not sure that it will. Cash refused to give an opinion on the subject after I revealed the full extent of abuse from my childhood, and my plan to claim back the parts of me that were stolen.

“I can’t tell you what to do, or how to feel,”he’d said, holding me against his chest, stroking the back of my head.“But regardless, I promise you won’t have to feel it alone.”

And then we fucked, because how could I not want to ride the most wonderful man in the planet after that?

I think he says that shit on purpose, just because he knows what it does to me.

Blowing out a long breath, I watch Kal toss the lighter to the cart, then stretch the pliers, as if testing their width.

“What’s that for?” I ask, knowing already he probably won’t answer. The man is clinical to a fault, which I’m sure has to do with his medical background, but still.

“To make it hurt.”

He’s unilaterally focused as he reaches down, slapping Mamma’s face twice to wake her from the ketamine-induced sleep she’s been in. She blinks, drowsy, and then starts thrashing against where she’s bound to her armchair.

The arsenic was taking too long, if I’m honest. Her body wound up being much more resilient than I anticipated, and I got tired of waiting for her to die.

That’s why I invited Kal. I figured he might want to help steal the last breaths she’ll ever take.

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