Page 41 of Anorthic Anarchy

He swallows and clears his throat. “You’re not just a womb, angel. You’re much more than that.” Giving me his back, he turns off the lamp, then grabs me in a bear hug. I don’t resist, just let it happen. With my back to his front, he spoons me tightly.

But he doesn’t hurt me…

And as I fall asleep, I hear him whisper, “You sleep with me now.”

Chapter 17

Strauss

Acrash of thunder and the lightning rod between my legs are what awaken me. It’s not Ceylon’s exotic perfume or Yasmina’s thick curves that I have a hold on this morning. Instead, a tiny figure fits inside my arms like it was meant to be there. Long blonde locks tickle my nose as I peek an eye open to find Astrid sleeping soundly. The press of her back against my chest soothes me.

Without warning, tears spring to my eyes thinking about the boy I was at sixteen. Perhaps the last time I felt comforted and this warm was with my mother lying with me in this same way.

Was it wrong that I loved her?

Is that what this fiery need to burn everything is?

Flipping to my back, I stare at the ceiling. My hand makes its way to my forehead and pinches my temple. Perhaps it isn’t rage that plagues, but sorrow. Seeping into my soul like a snake winding its way through my will to live.

The little creature next to me shifts as the gap between us grows. It’s cold on my side where she isn’t. Craning her neck, she looks around as if confused where she is. When her gaze meetsmine, she turns over and places her head on my pecs. For a long moment, we just lie like that. Studying one another.

Her with a freshness of life and me dying inside.

My mouth tastes stale, and I swallow my morning breath. “Tell me about The Crystal Maiden.”

She blinks slowly, as if holding back some shock at my statement, then glances between my eyes, the blue of hers sparkling in the morning light. “Well, it’s not actually a maiden. They thought it was for years, but it turned out to be an eighteen-year-old boy who was sacrificed to the gods of the underworld. The skeleton calcified until it looked like crystal over the years. But the ancient people there believed the cave to be an entrance into Hell.”

Picking up her hand as she rests it on my rising chest, I slip off her wedding band and put it back on with a twist. She watches the motion, and my eyes follow hers. I do it again. And again. “And that’s where my angel wants to go, huh? To the cave to the underworld?”

A blush floods her fair cheeks as she purses her lips. “Yeah. Well, first, I suppose. But other places, too.”

The energy buzzes off her as she squirms with excitement. A line develops on her forehead, and she tilts her head when she lifts it off of me. “Where, um, where would you like to go? You know, if you could.”

Something warm fills my heart at her wanting to know about me, but I understand she’s being polite, like she’s possibly been trained to be. Dare I give her the truth? A fact I probably never told anyone, not even myself?

Her hair falls across her shoulder, and I let my lips curl into a smile as I tuck it behind her ear. She wants me to say a tropical place. Perhaps a snow-covered mountain for skiing or a cabin in the woods. That’s what normal people would say.

But I’m a monster.

The tug on my lips makes my eyes water as I confess to her, “I’d go to the past and change it.”

I can see the whites of her eyes as they widen, a little gasp parting her plump lips. “Oh.” It’s too much for her to bear. Maybe that’s why I said it. Because I want her to have the pain I do. She stares at my abs for a long time, and I think she’ll switch the subject. When she raises her face to mine again, she asks, “What would you change?”

Like a movie playing in my mind, my whole life flashes before my eyes. If my father were someone different or if I hadn’t been born into this city or if I hadn’t been born at all…

Deep, quiet, and still, the nagging thought tightens like a band around my brain.

If my mother hadn’t used me.

No. That’s not true. I was old enough to know what I was doing. People just didn’t understand those kinds of things. It wasn’t wrong, just…

My fingers scratch at my scalp, digging into the flesh there. It brings me into the present, staring into the ripe face of a girl starting out in life, one which has been taken from her. By me. By her legacy.

“I’d change everything.” To emphasize my point, I nod and repeat it. “Everything.”

Her breasts rise and press into my chest as she takes a long, deep inhale. She whispers, “But you can’t change everything.”

I sit up more against my pillows, dragging her with me. Like my own little doll. “No, I can’t.”

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