I need to give them to you.
But they came from my body and they went into his.
I want to be horribly selfish. I want to ask things of you I don’t deserve, things I can’t even whisper. I want you to destroy the old ones.
Lay claim to my mouth, because it’s yours.
Yours to mark.
Yours to ruin.
Exorcise these groans from my body.
Raze anything he ever touched—including me.
Thirty-Four
STORY
And then what? What will become of us after we’ve survived?
I felt like I was walking on cracked ice going into New Year’s.
Would we find the coin? Would it end? What would become of Grayson and me, after all of this?
“You’ll crack the polish, miss,” my girl said.
I exhaled, dropping my hands to my lap—I’d been fidgeting with the clear coat of polish forced on my nails.
My girl went back to braiding my hair, and I looked out my frosted window. It wasn’t dark yet, but yachts had been docking all morning. A ball had been built over the weekend, placed a few meters into the ocean, and tonight it would drop into the dark waters as it exploded fireworks into the sky.
This party was second only to Fourth of July, and anyone who was anyone would be here. Dignitaries, socialites, actors and rock stars, politicians and their children. They spent all year angling for an invitation, and all I could think was…was this the night Grayson and I could escape?
After affixing white gold cuffs and diamonds in my braids, my girl left me for a moment, and I pulled out my phone. Tell me your words, Grayson had said.
All your words.
I could send him this, at least.
Dear Atlas,
It’s New Year’s Eve and all I can think about is getting a kiss from you. How silly is that? We have so much more important things on our plate…but all I want is one kiss from you.
“Mr. du Lac has requested you wear a tiara for the party.”
I set my phone down, looking into my girl’s clear eyes through the mirror. She held up a glittering tiara, smaller than the Crowne one, and a perfect accent to the box braids she’d spent all morning and most of the afternoon on.
“Mr. du Lac can go fuck himself,” I gritted.
My girl’s eyes widened. I exhaled through my nostrils. I don’t know if I’d ever get used to having a girl—to being waited on—but it wasn’t fair to take it out on her.
“May I see the tiara?” I asked.
She handed me the glittery thing with wonder in her eyes. I turned it over, the diamonds catching in the light. It would complement the dress chosen for tonight perfectly.
I snapped it.
“Oh no,” I cooed. “It broke in transit.”