Page 33 of Fragile Facade
“Thought you weren’t allowed to touch me?” I shake my head at him.
“Krypt isn’t here. Just make sure you keep it clean, for fuck’s sake.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I pull my sweatpants on, cringing just a little at the way it stings to move my leg. “It’ll stay clean. Don’t have time for an infection.” I leave my shirt off and let my brother look. He’s seen my Misfit tats, but up until he started ‘dating’ Krypt, he’s never been allowed to see my Vile House tats, so this is the first time he’s getting a look at them up close and personal. The skull on my back, Vile House at the top, my name at the bottom—every inked needle of it earned. “How’s the shop?”
He stares at my sides, ribs, back, and arms, taking the whole picture of me in. Yeah, I’m such a well-constructed piece of art that even my brother can’t see through the dark ink to what simmers just below my surface. He sees a thrill-seeker, not a broken bastard with a need to prove I am stronger than the only sure thing in life—death.
“The windows are boarded up, and I’m staying closed for a few days, but otherwise, no major damage. Cain is there making sure everything is in good shape, and I guess the window repair people will be there tomorrow.”
“Director had to bribe them to come,” I say, laughing. “No one wants to come here right now.”
“Don’t blame them. Moros is a mess.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “A beautiful mess, and that’ll still draw in the right people.”
“Hopefully not Reaper Corp.” Remi looks at me, wide-eyed and showing all his fear. “The hell are we going to do if they take over, Soren?”
“Ghost.”
“Sorry. But what happens if they win?”
“We won’t fucking let them. And if, somehow, they do, we’ll die trying to defend our town. Like fuck I’m gonna become a pawn in a game as big as theirs. Death can’t have me, neither can they.”
Remi narrows his eyes at me, trying to crack the code of my words. “Death can’t have you? Did you break the curse?”
I’m not even sure I believe in the curse the same way he does. Remi has always been afraid of it, and I don’t blame him. He’s watched the men in our family fall like flies, one right after the other, feeling the curse creeping up on him next. It broke me when our dad died, and it fucking killed me when our brothers died because it made me feel inferior, like I’m not strong enough to stop this curse. We’re all that’s left, so I have to believe there’s a way to end it. To prevent it. Remi has Krypt now, and he’s taking the medication Axel suggested he try, and he’s doing it all under the professional supervision of Psych, so I trust that he’s in good hands.
But me? Yeah, I see the allure of a curse and believe that our bloodline is somehow tempted by the idea of suicide and choosing our own death, but I don’t know if I’m tempted by it the same way they are. My brothers fought it and eventually succumbed to it, Remi’s been trying to outrun it for as long as I can remember, but I seem to be runningforit rather than away from it, and it has nothing to do with wanting to die. I just want to be the fucking best, the strongest, the smartest. Imagine the ego boost I’d get if I defied death on numerous occasions?
Riot thinks he can chase me there faster, but it only adds more fun to my game. I’m dragging him along with me, and when I finally knock on Death’s door, I’ll shove him through the threshold and slam it inboththeir faces. That brings a smile to my lips.
“I don’t believe in the curse.”
Remi scoffs. “Sure. You just tried to protect me from it all this time by stalking me.”
Sure did. Gregory Malone stalked Remi, and I stalked Gregory Malone. I pushed Remi to Vile House that night, and I don’t regret it, because look at him now. He’s stronger, darker, better equipped, and has a whole powerful society at his back. He has a team of medical professionals overseeing his care, and he has a possessive as fuck boyfriend who won’t let him hold his breath long enough to die. It’s not the way I foresaw it going, but it worked out regardless. I did that. Me.
“Someone had to chase you here.”
“What?!” He gapes at me. “I knew it! I thought you were there that night… I—fuck, Soren. Why?”
“You needed protection, and I got it for you. So, you’re welcome. For Krypt.” I grab him by the scruff of his shirt. “And for the hundredth time, while we’re here, it’s Ghost.”
“Ghost,” he corrects, smiling at me. “Thank you. For… well, for leading me here, for always stalking Gregory Malone, and for having my back even while I thought you hated me. I honestly thought you were going to kill me just to end the curse. Turns out you were just lying to me. About everything.”
“Not by choice, but it gave me a little kick to sneak around behind your back.” I smirk.
“Of course it did.” He throws a shirt at me. “Come on. Let’s go eat before this town meeting.”
* * *
After eatingand leaving my brother to get to the town meeting on his own, I’m silent while I walk through the tunnels. I drop back without anyone noticing, content to be concealed in the shadows with my thoughts. My mind still isn’t a safe place, but ever since my murder spree, it’s been mostly peaceful.
Except for when I think about Riot. His damn mouth, three finger streaks of my blood across his lips, and the way his tongue tasted me. The power that came alive in me when he kissed me, savage and raw and fucking finite, is addicting. There was nothing timid about the way he crushed his mouth to mine, and even if the whole thing is confusing, I don’t regret it, but I don’t want it to happen again. Because I can’t feel alive while pressed to him. I can’t accept power from him. I need it on my own, to be able to create it and thrive in it. An external power source isn’t enough for me, and it sure as fuck isn’t acceptable coming from him.
I need him to push me so I can create my own power, strengthen myself, prove to myself that I’m all it takes to get through this thrilling life. I’m the powerhouse of my own life, and there isn’t a chance in hell I’ll let him take that role.
The water at the base of the tunnel ripples, alerting me to someone’s presence. It’s dark along the edges, but my eyes are adjusted to it, so when the steps come closer, the water shifting ever so slightly, I hold my breath and give myself a moment to simply sense the approach.
