Page 124 of Vicious Butterfly
Maybe it would have been all three. But we’ll never know. I married Ryan, which isn’t an answer to the question. I was going to marry him, have him, will or no will. Luke might have been the catalyst, but marrying Ryan had nothing to do with Luke or Jasper in the end. Luke doesn’t know, and I get to look like the good brother. Jasper would have figured me out. He knew me better than I would have liked him to.
But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have done it for Luke if Ryan didn’t exist. I’d like to think I would have gone through with it, but how can I say for sure?
Dressed in my usual coaching attire—a track jacket, sweatpants, and no-name brand sneakers—it’s easy to hop into the rowboat. It creaks, rocking side to side as Luke enters. We must look like a couple of apes trying to squeeze into a Subaru, but it holds. Luke rows as the water catches the gray light from the overcast day, trapping it within its watery confines. What surfaces is only a shadow of it.
Mood.
The monolithic building glares down at me as we approach. If a building could side-eye, that’s what it would be doing. Did Uncle Jasper’s devil soul transfer to it when he died?
“Can’t believe we grew up here,” he says.
Can’t believe we survived.
“Neither can I.” I try to match his cheerful tone, but I’ve been vacuumed into a tunnel to a tragic past. My childhood that never was is in that building. I bet if I looked hard enough, I could find the melted remains of my doll. It hasn’t even been that longsince I was last here, but I tend to put this place out of my mind, burying it as far under as I do the memories contained within.
“What the fuck are you so happy about?”
“This is ours. I’m in love with the man of my dreams. You’re married. Uncle Jasper is rotting in the ground. We won.”
I touch my ring. Being married is my favorite part, even above Uncle Jasper being dead, which is saying something. My marriage is just … complicated. Luke’s gaze catches the way I massage the platinum ring. I can’t usually wear it, but it was important that I did today. My hands fall to my sides.
“Do you think my hand will still work?” Luke asks.
“Try.”
He places a VanCourt-sized palm on the black glass wall panel by the door. Blue light scans. The door clicks open. Luke steps in ahead of me. No one’s here to greet us; that motherfucker Clarence isn’t here yet, but the lights turn on, and the house wakes up.
“Guess the settings are still active,” Luke murmurs. “I promised Ace I’d bring him something old-timey.’”Old-timeyis in air quotes. He heads up the spiral staircase to the east wing to—I assume—hunt for a gift for Ace, and I pull out my phone with the sudden and desperate urge to see Ryan’s name.
Dollface
I learned today that I only have the second-largest penis in the group. But I don’t feel that bad, Becks is the one who beat me out, and he’s related to giants or something.
What the …?
Me
Why the fuck are you looking at other men’s penises? You’re married. My cock is the only one you get.
The urge to abduct him rises up for the seventh time this morning. It’s constant now, especially the way he provokes me. It’s been too long since I’ve fucked him—claimed him. He needs my marks all over him, so he can remember who the fuck he belongs to. God, he drives me fucking crazy sometimes.
Dollface
Kind of unavoidable in the locker room.
Yeah. He needs a fucking lesson in who the fuck owns him.
Me:
You’d better start showering alone, or whoever sees you gets their eyes plucked out with a lobster fork.
Dollface
Showering alone isn’t possible.
Me
Make it possible.
