Page 88 of Worse Than Wicked
Are they trying to cut me out?
They’ve kept me in the loop, telling me about each thing. Have they been waiting for me to snap, knowing eventually I wouldn’t be able to handle it? Now I’ve proven them right, and they can go on rampaging the town like Bonnie and Clyde in their deliriously happy killing spree without me. Next time, they probably won’t even tell me.
Part of the reason I’ve always wanted Mabel was because Baron did. Because anyone talented and interesting and unique enough to catch my brother’s eye, to be worthy of him, has to be special because Baron is special, and he doesn’t just give his approval to anyone. So if he loves Mabel, she has to be the most fucking incredible person there is. Naturally, Baron wants thebest, so he wanted her, and I didn’t want to settle for less than he got, so I wanted her too.
But another reason I wanted to be with her was to make sure she wouldn’t come between us. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. Now, it feels like I am. Like it would have been better if I’d just let him have her to himself and admitted I’m not as good, and I don’t deserve a girl as good. But I insisted on being part of it, and now it feels like they’re teaming up against me, pushing me out. He’d rather spend time with her, doing whatever they do, and leave me behind, just like I always feared he would from the first time he came home talking about her in a way he’d never talked about a girl before.
I knew right then that I was in danger of losing him.
I can’t lose Baron. I won’t. I can’t live without him. I’d probably be okay without Mabel. She’s the perfect fit for Baron, but that doesn’t mean she’s right me. I could find another girl. She might not be as good as Mabel, but she might be better for me.
But I can’t find another twin.
So I swallow a couple pearls for courage. I’ll need to be fucked up to stomach what I have to do. Then I turn back around, open the door, and walk back out.
Mabel is already gone. Baron is picking up the dishes.
“Okay,” I say. “I’m in. Who’s our next victim?”
twenty-two
Mabel Darling
“I still don’t get why we had to leave early,” Duke grumbles, tossing his stuff in the closet without unpacking. “No one suspects anything. You said you got rid of the body.”
“I did,” I say. I’ve come to understand that Duke wants the same things that I do, though, so I go to him. He perches on the edge of the bed, raking a hand through his hair, showing signs of distress. My mind flips through its encyclopedia to find the answer, the reaction that people want in his state. When I find it, I am calm.
“Hey,” I say, lifting his arm and pulling it around me. I slide onto his lap and cradle his cheek. “We can go back. Anytime we want, we can go back.”
“Then why aren’t we there?”
“I understand why you’re upset. I know your friends are there. But we’ll be back in a month for Labor Day. We just had to leave town until things cooled down. Just in case.”
He turns his face away. “Youdon’tunderstand. You don’t have friends, and Baron only has friends for show. He doesn’t actually give a fuck about anyone outside our family.”
“And you don’t think that bothers me?” I ask quietly, his harsh words smarting like a slap.
Duke looks up at me at last. “Does it?”
“Everyone wants to be loved,” I say, looking away. “To be accepted into a social group of their peers, even if they’re different. Evolutionally, if you were too much of a freak, toocrazy, you’d be cast from the safety of the herd, and then you’d die.”
“Am I too weak for you and Baron’s social group?” he asks. “Are you going to cast me out?”
“No,” I say, turning his face to me. “You are the center, the heart.”
I lean in and kiss him, and he finally wraps his arms around me.
“But Baron’s the leader,” he says. “The king. You’re the queen. So what am I?”
“You’re the duke,” I say, smiling.
“Yeah, and what good is that? You don’t need me. Baron can do everything I can.”
“Not everything.”
“What, make you cum?” he asks. “He can do that. He just chooses not to. If he wanted, he could make you think he was me, and you’d never know the difference.”
“Eventually, I’d know,” I say. “He couldn’t keep it up forever.”
