Page 48 of Monster
I turn back around and walk over to him. I grab his hands and hold them in mine. He doesn’t look up so instead, I do what he always does for me. I run my thumbs across the backs of his hands, but it quickly turns into me tracing the veins in his hands instead, becausefuck. His fingernails are painted black again in what appears to be a fairly fresh coat and his rings clink together the tighter I hold his hand.
“It’s okay,” I reassure him. It’s not, but it is. She’s dead and she’s not coming back. I can’t avoid what I know he’s going to say forever.
“You know I’ve had her ashes at my place since they cremated her months ago. And I know you don’t want to talk about it, but with you coming back to my place now, I want to know what you want to do?” He lifts his head and glances down at me, his green eyes burning into mine.
“I want to spread them when I get out of here. I don’t know where or anything like that, but I think she would’ve liked to have her ashes spread. Maybe the ocean?” I ponder to myself. Holley always loved the ocean, so maybe that’s what I’ll do.
“But I need some time,” I add.
“Of course. And I’m sure she would love that.” He gives me a sympathetic smile, but it’s not one I loathe to see anymore because I know he means well. In fact, he means the best. Because he fucking knows how I’m feeling. Maybe not exactly, but he has the closest idea.
I step back and away from him—needing space again. Today has already been too fucking much, but with Vincent being heavy on my mind, having Dominik so close makes me feel guilty and as much as I hate the feeling, I can’t stop it, nonetheless.
Dominik doesn’t say anything about my sudden cold-shoulder, but probably because he’s used to it by now. It happens quite often, but it doesn’t seem to bother him, thankfully. I don’t know what I would do if it did—or if he left me because of it.
I can’t be alone again.
“Well, since we are already on the topic of difficult shit, can I ask you another question?” Dom asks as he takes a seat in the chair in the corner of the room. I plop down on my bed and shift my gaze to him. I don’t say anything, instead nodding, indicating for him to ask away.
“How are you doing about the whole dead parents thing?” The second the words leave his mouth; he flinches at the harshness of them, and he at least has the decency to appear apologetic. It only makes me laugh.
“Dom, please don’t feel bad for saying that, really. I fucking hated my parents and I’m not even remotely sad they’re dead. I’m relieved. Yeah, it’s still sort of surreal to me, but I don’t give a shit. In fact, I’m more surprised it took them this long to die. About fucking time,” I mutter. I keep my gaze locked on him and I watch as his eyes widen in shock at my venomous tone before he rights it. His eyebrows draw together, and his eyes soften as he takes me in. He chews on the inside of his cheek before giving me a soft smile, the corner of his lips barely turning up.
Ahh, yeah, the exact face Idon’twant to see.
“Don’t look at me like that. Like I said, I’m fine and I truly don’t care. Now let’s fucking drop it, huh?” I spit, anger coming over me. Anger I haven’t felt in so fucking long. Anger that feelsso fucking goodto experience again.
I never realized before but being angry makes me feel alive. No wonder Vincent always chose to remain so angry.
Anger gives you power. Strength. Control.
Vincent…
