Page 41 of Ruthless Creatures
“Yeah.”
She thinks for a moment. “Well, I mean, after you and David were married, you probably would’ve had all kinds of important paperwork that could go in there. Marriage certificate, birth certificates, passports, whatever.”
“I guess so. I didn’t get my little safe until after.”
After he disappeared, that is. After my life ended. After my heart stopped beating for good.
A memory of Kage gazing intently at me from across the table at Michael’s reminds me that it wasn’t for good, after all. I didn’t think so, but there might be some life left in the old ticker yet.
Kage. Who are you?
“Yeah, that’s it,” says Sloane. “It was going to be a surprise.”
“Davidhatedsurprises. He didn’t even like it if he came around a corner in the house and found me standing there. He’d jump halfway out of his skin.”
“This surprise wasn’t for him, though. It was for you. And if anyone would think a safety deposit box would be a nice surprise gift for his new bride, it would’ve been David. He had the soul of an accountant.”
That makes me smile. “He really did.”
“Do you remember that time he got you a wallet for your birthday?”
“With the twenty percent off coupon for a foot massage inside? How could I forget?”
We laugh, then fall silent. After a moment, I say quietly, “Sloane?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“Do you think I’m broken?”
Her answer is firm. “No. I think you’re a badass bitch who went through some bullshit no one should ever have to go through. But it’s in the rearview mirror now. You’re gonna be just fine.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
Let’s hope she’s right.“Okay. If you say so, I believe you.”
“I’ve been telling you for years that you should listen to me, dummy. I’m way smarter than you.”
That makes me chuckle. “You’re not even a little bit smarter than me.”
“Am, too.”
“Are not.”
Sounding smug, she shoots back, “Yes, I am, and I have proof.”
I mutter, “I can hardly wait to hear this.”
“Your Honor, I present to the court the following irrefutable evidence: the defendant’s vagina.”
I scoff. “How lovely. Do you have visual aids to accompany this exhibit?”
She breezes right past that. “Which the defendant has been pummeling nonstop with personal pleasure devices set to their high settings since she met one Kage… whatever his last name is. Tell me I’m wrong.”
I say crossly, “What’s your obsession with my vagina?”
Now she sounds even more smug. “That’s what I thought.”
