Page 24 of Love the Way You Lion
The universe has a sick sense of humor, thrusting me into this farce when all I yearn for is a pause button on life’s remote control. But no, the cosmos directs its twisted narrative with me as the reluctant star.
“Fine,” I mutter to the empty room, echoing back at me like a judgment. I pluck a random outfit from the binder, not caring for its details or its promise. It’s a placeholder, a uniform for duty rather than delight.
“The universe hates me,” I conclude with a sigh, tossing the phone onto the bed as if it’s the source of all my misfortune.
Why else would it conspire to keep me from the simple joys, to chain me to conversations I’ve already lived a thousand times in my head?
The Artist Frets and Fawns
RAFE
It’s killing me.
I know that she’s in pain, but she’s trying to hide it. It’s bad enough that it’s seeping into me, so it’s no joke. My primary is at Sari’s house, letting our mate—if you can even call her that anymore—fill her head with Christ knows what. It’s almost as if they are trying to send her over the deep end. Sari destroyed my primary the other day; now she’s back for more.
When will it be enough?
Deli let me know she was going because Sari said she ‘needed’ to clear the air. Neither of them invited me, which leaves me alone, pacing in my studio as I wait for the other shoe to drop.
Wilde losing his marbles before the accident was bad enough; now the sod’s fucking everything up from the grave. That’s become so fucking on-brand for him that I don’t even have to think about it to believe that this is all about the deceased blogger.
I sound awful—he was my mate. However, there’s so much water under that bridge, and most of it is bloody. It’s not surprising that I’m bitter or that my primary is swallowing her anger for the sake of old sentiment. She’s being loyal and killing herself doing it.
The minute we put the urn in the ground, I was finished with that ball and chain. I knew I’d made the right decision, when the coyote announced her plan to resurrect him. I mourned in the days after his death and I’m not about to rehash it. Wilde passing meant I was not under any obligation to play their games. Sari is mated to Deli and I; I can’t change that any more than I can the other ex-mates. However, I can choose not to take part in the emotional gladiator games anymore.
And I am.
There are still secrets, but they can rest now. If we told Taurus and Talia about the physical abuse, they might kill her. My primary is terrified that they will never want to touch either of us again. Fear and shame are life’s great motivators, and it’s keeping us silent about the goings-on at the Den, despite Wilde’s death. We don’t want anyone to know what awful things we let happen to us because we got spun in the silken webs of loyalty, love, and fear.
I pad to the bar and grab a glass, pouring a couple of fingers of bourbon,and toss it back.
It feels like that kind of day.
“Hello, love,” Blade says, walking in with her blade, Precious, spinning in her palm.
Giving her a slight smile, I sigh. “There you are. The bird should know that the cat’s not at home. She’s prostrating, I assume.”
She blinks. “Prostrating?” The knife spins faster and her brow knits in concern.
“She got called to the Den to ‘work it through’. I can only assume they’re raking her over the coals. She’s keeping me out, but enough is coming through for me to know it’s not good. That bloody git’s torturing us from the grave, I fucking swear it.” Her head turns slowly to look at me in surprise and I shrug,“I’m agitated today.”
“I’ll say.” She stops talking to communicate with the bird mentally, and then she groans. “Taurus says he can feel her. She’s upset, but she’s keeping the specifics locked down. He only gets a general feeling of pain. It’s making him angry, and it’s pissing me off. I feel like taking a swipe at the stunted little bitch myself. If she thinks Taurus is bad—” The blade flies past my face and embeds in the door frame.
“Hex has to spackle the walls and shit every time you do that, woman. You’re becoming high maintenance.” I give her a reproachful look, then I sigh. “We have to stay calm and not let our anger feed hers. With Maeve, her emotions ride high, you know?”
“With every heart wrench, there’s an apology from that twat—then vice that versa. When do the checks not cover the balance, I wonder? Words cannot be unsaid, and she said some horrible things to Deli at the last visit.”
“I know. The cat will have to handle it, though, because she’s not accepting any help from us.”
Talia shakes her head. “Sari has some leeway because her mate died, but it only goes so far. Taurus will decimate her if she pushes too far with Deli.”
I’m definitely aware of that.
I open my arms, hoping to distract her. “Come here. For now, I’d just like a hug. I need some contact; it keeps me grounded.” Moving like wildfire, she’s in my arms and squeezing me before I finish the sentence. I kick up a purr and she murmurs in happiness.It’s such a little thing that makes people so happy. “You flounced out this morning after saying something noteworthy, and I haven’t heard from you since.”
“I never flounce; I stride. I do an occasional sexy strut or a serpentine sway, but I never flounce.”
“Uh-huh. Locomotion notwithstanding, the words were the big deal. It sounded like a profession.”
