Page 101 of The Lies We Steal

“You’re not having a party with you friends and half the town tonight?” It’s a joke, one that was supposed to lighten his mood, but apparently it failed.

Grabbing his shirt off the hood, pulling it over his head before looking at me in the eyes, “I don’t celebrate it.”

Seriousness weighs down his shoulders, his tone flat.

“Come on, you’re what, nineteen? It’s a law that you’re not supposed to start hating your birthday until at least forty.”

He scoffs, a short laugh falling from his lips, “Birthday are about celebrating the day you were brought into the world, right?”

I nod.

“Why would I celebrate that, when I didn’t want to be brought into the world?”

The riddle of who Alistair Caldwell really is beneath all of his bravado continues. I only had sections of him, ones I’d got from watching him and being on his bad side.

I knew he was angry. That he was loyal until death to those three boys. And anytime his family was spoken about, he avoided it.

Growing up my life was shit, it was tough, but I never wanted to end my life. I never wanted to not be here. For someone to want that, they’d need a reason and a damn good one.

He was a mystery and to a girl who is curious, he’s kryptonite.

“The tattoo on your hip. I’ve seen it before, Silas has one too, doesn’t he?” I change the topic, hoping to gather another piece of his puzzle.

Slowly, he lifts just the bottom of his t-shirt up, exposing the coin with a skeleton on the front. I squint, reading the words written across the top and bottom,

“Admit one, Styx Ferryman.” I read out loud.

Without thinking, my fingers extend on their own, grazing the ink on his skin.

“It’s Charon’s obol. There are myths in many cultures about how you must have a coin to pay the ferryman who takes souls from the land of the living to the land of the dead. It’s why some people put coins over people’s eyes when they die.”

“Like the river Styx in Greek mythology,” pulling my hand away, “So why do you two have one? I doubt either of you are short on coins for when the time comes.”

His shirt drops, covering the tattoo again, “We all have one. That way we can bribe our way back to each other. Even in death.”

I’d never seen loyalty like theirs before. I’d heard of it, when people talked about being loyal this is how they would explain it but none of them would actually do it. Not the way they did.

They would die for each other in a heartbeat and it was evident in everything they did. Like all the broken pieces of themselves lined up perfectly with each other. They could cultivate together in the dark, protecting each other there where no one would attempt to hurt them.

I thought about how sad it was he wasn’t doing anything for his birthday. Someone young and with opportunities. My parents threw me a party every year in the trailer park, everyone would come together for potlucks. There would be music and a Slip ‘N Slide. It wasn’t Disney World, but it was special to me.

No one deserved to hate the day they were born.

Not even Alistair.

“Let’s go do something.” I propose, looking up at him as he gives me a you’re kidding look.

“Do what?” He runs his tongue across his teeth, smirking like he’s up to no good and I allow the excitement to course through me as he does, instead of trying to stop it.

“Whatever you want. It’s your birthday, you should enjoy at least one of them before you need to use that coin.”

“I told you I don’t celebrate.” His breath fanning across my face as I step in front of him.

“Yeah and I don’t care. Plus you owe me.” A grin finds its way to my face, taking over. I wasn’t sure what we would get into, but I knew I would enjoy it.

“What could I possibly owe you, Briar?” The way he says my name is smooth and I like the sound of it on his tongue, especially as he raises both his eyebrows baiting me.

Slowly, I lift my middle finger up showing off the initials that mark my skin, flipping him off.

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