Page 13 of Reaper & Ruin
My reflection in the mirror was exactly what I’d expected: damp blue hair, pale face, brown eyes still carrying the weight of too many sleepless nights. But there was something else, too—an odd determination I hadn’t noticed before. Maybe it was the shower’s magic. Or maybe it was the caffeine deprivation kicking in.
Or maybe it was the knowledge that in this round of vengeance I was not working on my own, with a shadowy man yelling praise from a distance. He was now working with me, fact checking things and finding out more than I ever had. And he was aided by a flirty mafia man who pretended to be evil but was secretly a simp. A simp with a gun and a biteable ass.
Not that Gio liked his ass being bitten. I’d threatened to do it, and he’d recoiled. Sure, that only made me want to do it more. But I was pretending to be a nice girl today; a nice girl who did normal nice girl things like shower.
When I turned toward the door, I noticed something that hadn’t been there when I entered: fresh clothes hanging neatly on a hook. A pale green pleated skirt, a white jumper so fluffy it practically screamed ‘hug me,’ underwear and a pair of socks that looked like clouds knitted by angels.
I stared at them for a moment, unsure whether I had the energy to dress myself.
Then I saw the socks had little ghost men on them and knew I had to get dressed.
“In a surprising development, the Heather has been gifted with new plumage. This offering, likely from one of her caretakers, suggests an effort to encourage reintegration into the group.”My eyes narrowed in thought as responsibilities won out over depression, and my mind allowed me to have the energy for clothes.
I pulled on the underwear, then skirt and jumper, relishing in their softness. The socks followed, wrapping my feet in a cocoon of warmth and fluffiness that made me want to giggle.
I caught sight of myself in the mirror again, this time looking almost…presentable. Not quite human yet, but maybe something adjacent.
My hair, still wet, clung to my shoulders in limp strands, and a shiver ran down my spine. The jumper was warm, but the cold air against my damp skin was less forgiving. It was still winter, even though spring was firmly on its way.
Spring meant summer, and I loved me some summer.
With my new armor in place, I opened the bathroom door a crack and peered out. The main room was visible from this angle, but thankfully, neither Giovanni nor Atlas were in direct view. I took a deep breath, gathered what remained of my courage, and stepped out. The quilt was gone—stolen—which left me feeling both exposed and oddly free.
Who was I if I wasn’t a burrito of doom? Was I a real girl now? Or was I permanently made of wood, that had nothing but hatred festering in her splinters?
I padded into the room, keeping my head high, and my steps confident. If they were going to make a big deal out of my emergence, I might as well give them a show. It seemed more fun to pretend to be confident than to admit I was suffering.
I fucking hated suffering. It was such a bitch thing for my mind to do to me.
Both my men turned to look at me as I stepped fully into the room, and I raised a hand before either of them could speak. “I have returned to reality,” I announced, my throat dry. “Please hold off on questions, comments, or anything other than praise for at least an hour.”
Giovanni smirked, leaning back on the couch with a casual arrogance that made me want to hurl one of the decorative pillows at his head. Atlas, to his credit, didn’t say a word—just nodded slightly before returning to his slicing of whatever was on his chopping board.
I lingered for a moment, letting the silence settle. The fresh clothes, the shower, even the act of leaving my room—it all felt like a tentative first step toward something resembling progress.
Gio looked at me. I looked at him, eyes narrowing when he smiled. Purely because I wanted to throat punch him. I had no idea why. My fists were just hungry for violence, and hewasa De Luca.
If I beat him hard enough, would his dad feel it?
“The Heather has completed its ritual and rejoined the group. While its reintegration remains tentative, the signs are promising. Only time will tell if this fragile progress will endure.”I hissed under my breath. “Though the Heather is itching for violence, she is aware that the creature in her space is not worthy of pain. He is innocent, and he deserves kindness and blowjobs. Not stabbings and insults.”
Atlas appeared before me in a blink. He pointed to the couch. “Sit,” he ordered as he handed me a coffee. “I made you food.”
I tilted my head at him, weighing my options. Atlas wasn’t mad—if anything, he looked worried, like he thought I might disappear into the floorboards if he took his eyes off me. His brow furrowed just slightly, the softest crease between his light blue eyes.
It was unnerving to be seen. Especially when it was happening twice.
But the couch was closer than my bedroom, and the way Atlas gestured made it clear that it wasn’t a request. With a heavy sigh, I shuffled over and flopped down, letting gravity do most of the work.
The cushions swallowed me up, their warmth a quiet betrayal. “The Heather has returned to the nest,” I muttered. “Observe how the males circle, their protective instincts activated by her rare and fragile presence.”
Giovanni was the first to strike—or rather, to serve. He got out of his seat, grabbed some more stuff from the kitchen, and approached like a waiter at a five-star restaurant. Setting a plate and a neatly wrapped muffin in front of me, he smiled.
“Caesar salad and a blueberry muffin,” he announced. “Eat. You need fuel so you do not waste away into nothingness.”
I stared at the food, then at him. “I could lose a few kilos right now and still survive. That’s what my thighs and ass are for—emergency winter and depression fuel.”
“I prefer all of your kilos as they are, especially if they were wrapped around my face,” he said smoothly, as he slid onto the couch beside me, placing a plate for himself and Atlas on the coffee table too. “Now, enough talking. Eat before I force feed you.”
