Page 224 of Jagged Souls
“I bet she would’ve asked for a goat instead of a pony,” I wheeze out, and Varius scowls, which only makes me laugh harder.
“I would’ve got her one,” he grumbles.
“Maddox would’ve taught it ballet.”
He shudders. “I don’t know if that’s better or worse than line dancing.”
“Maybe the tango.”
“Stop.”
“Oh! Oh, let’s teach them disco. Or belly dancing!”
“No.”
“She could get waltz lessons and have you do father and goat –”
“No more goats.”
I laugh, and he smiles.
And for a moment, for one little, tiny moment, the world doesn’t feel so cruel.
It took our little girl –Antoniotook our little girl. But she still lives in us.
Dropping my head, I swallow the rest of my laughter as I finish off his tattoo. A final footprint to say goodbye. My hands shake as I lay the tattoo gun down.
Varius stands, then offers me his hand. I hesitate for a moment before I take it. He leads me into the bathroom. To the mirror where we stand and look at the ash-filled tattoos on our chests.
My heart burns.
My soul screams.
My eyes latch onto the last mementoes we have of her.
They’re not perfect.
But neither are we.
I’m sorry for how brutal it’s about to get.
But the hardest part of trauma
is facing ourselves after.
Seventy
Him
I slam into Maddox, wrapping him in a hug as soon as I come down the stairs and see him standing in the living room with our other brothers, mother, and the three women who are now a big part of this family. I didn’t know if he had survived inside my brain until I saw him in the fight.
From the teleportation circle to the disease Antonio gave me, I feared he’d died. I could not tell Khalid about my plan beforehand, knowing he’d try to stop us, so he didn’t get the opportunity to study Maddox’s tapeworm egg form, which meant he couldn’t make a soul doll of it. Couldn’t check in to see if he was alive. The fact he’s returned is a relief to us all.
“Oh… big guy’s actually allowing hugs,” Enoch teases as he and his twin join in too. When Ez pulls out his phone to snap a group selfie, I start to pull away, but Khalid shoves me back into it. He doesn’t join in himself, unlike Mother, but he keeps his hand on my shoulder.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Well, I didn’t get laid for two months, so not going to lie, this is giving me a hard-on –”
