Page 10 of Claimed By Her Monsters
I snort. My next card isGo to Jail.“Typical,” I mutter.
Alister lifts aGet Out of Jail Freecard like a magician producing a dove. “I happen to possess your freedom. What’s it worth?”
“Name it.”
“A second truth. No lies.”
I wet my lips. “I keep a go-bag under every bed I sleep in. Even if it’s just a plastic grocery sack. Water, socks, granola bar. I’m nervous right now because my back isn’t against a wall. I need to see what’s coming at me. I know that’s paranoid, and I try to use logic to drown the fear,but…it swims.”
As one, the men exhale a sad sigh. Alister looks like he wants to say something, but like upstairs when he fed me soup, he seems to think better of it. Instead, he slides me the card like it’s his way of saying sorry.
“Roll.”
We loop the board. Caspian buys Water Works.
“Truth,” Mick says, pointing his lime-sugared rim at him.
“I practiced piano scales in this house until my fingers bled,” Caspian says. He glances toward the hall. “I’ll play for you someday, Maddie. I can even compose a song for you, if you’d like that.”
“I would,” I say, nodding, touched he'd do that for me.
Mick lands on my Vermont, groans, and pays rent. “Fine. Truth.” He taps his chin. “I miss fighting. Never felt more alive than when a weapon was in my hand.”
"You were terrifying back then," Alister says, voice low. "Covered in blood, grinning like a lunatic."
Mick’s scarred hand stills. Their eyes lock, something electric passing between them.
“Okay,” I say, too brightly, shifting in my seat. “That’s enough brooding war poetry for one turn. Whose roll is it?” I nudge the dice toward Caspin.
Mick refills my glass.
Alister buys Park Place, and we allboo.
“Truth,” I demand.
He aligns the deed neatly under his property. “I’ve done things I can’t undo,” he says, voice even but not steady. “I’m not sure atonement is…possible. I try anyway.” He glances at Mick like there’s a lifetime of conversation in the look.
“You’re too hard on yourself,” Mick tells him.
Caspian rolls onto my other light blue and doesn’t bargain. “May I pay truth?” He clears his throat. “I’m terrible at finishing things. Sketchbooks, mostly.” He lifts his charcoal-stained fingers. “Start a hundred, complete none.”
“At least you start,” I say, and he ducks his head with a bashful smile.
The storm pats the windows like curious fingers. We keep going.
Mick buys St. James Place. “Truth. My kid brother’s name is Aidan, and I miss him terribly. The longer I stay away from the Highlands, the more I forget who I am.” He flips his phone face down, like he wants to call home right now but is stopping himself.
I land on Luxury Tax and declare capitalism canceled. Alister actually huffs a laugh.
Caspian perches his token on theJust Visitingbench like it’s tired. “Truth,” he offers softly. “I like cupcakes better than cake. I think they taste different, even if the batter is the same.”
“Me too,” I exclaim, surprised. I thought I was the only one.
We round again. I pay Alister rent three times and sulk about it. My next roll lands onFree Parking.
“House rule,” I declare. “Camp here and you get to ask the question.”
“Dangerous,” Alister murmurs. “Proceed.”
