Page 133 of Mayhem and Minnie

I’ll take anything but her tears.

Never her tears.

Minnie stares at me.

“I don’t understand,” she adds in a defeated tone. Her lips tremble and a lone tear slides down her cheek.

Something pricks at my heart.

Fuck. My chest tightens.

All I’ve wanted to do was keep her safe from the outside world, but I was the one to hurt her.

I was the one to make her fucking cry.

That’s unacceptable.

“My body count is strictly reserved for the bodies that end up in my fireplace,” I explain. Then I hold my breath while I wait for my meaning to sink in.

She blinks. Then frowns. Then her mouth parts in realization.

“You mean…”

I nod.

“So you lied to me?” Suddenly, her tone is once more aggressive.

“I didn’t technically lie. You misunderstood me.” I shrug.

“Me?” Her eyes widen. “You let me misunderstand it on purpose! Why would you do that?” She stands up, her cheeks flushed, her entire body vibrating with anger. “I’ve been torturing myself these past weeks with thoughts of you and those one hundred-plus bodies. Damn you, Marlowe! You’re a wretch and I don’t like you anymore.”

“You just said you like everything about me,” I protest.

“I liked. Past tense. I changed my mind,” she mutters belligerently. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

She huffs at me, takes her chair, and moves it to the far end of the table. My mother watches the entire exchange with an amused smile.

“Minnie!” I call after her.

She scowls at me.

“Wretch!” she insults me before she decides to ignore me.

My mother takes her hand and consoles her.

“There, dear. Don’t fret too much. I told you my Marlowe would never do that. He’s a handsome devil, I’ll give you that. Just like his father,” she says, her eyes slowly rising to meet mine.

My body tenses.

“But I knew since he was a boy that he would never be like his father. He might be odd and reclusive, and he certainly harbors one too many compulsive tendencies that I’ve told him to seek help for, but he’s not a bad one.” She smiles. “He’s my little knight in shining armor. Always there to help me, even when he thinks I don’t know it.”

Minnie sniffles a sob. She grabs a napkin off the table and blows her nose. I suppose this is neither the time nor the place to tell her that napkin is supposed to go on her lap while she’s eating.

“He’s been so bad to me,” she whimpers between sobs. “Tricking me into believing he had a harem of women out there. How was I to stand a chance against that?”

My mother gives me a sharp look.

Why do I suddenly feel cornered?

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