Page 92 of Vicious Hearts

But when Neve glances back at me with a wry smile on her face, I don’t see any malice there. Nervousness, maybe?

“Look, Una—”

“My-father-was-a-monster-there-I’ve-said-it.”

She flinches.

I clear my throat. “That’s my awkward way of trying to tell you…” I shrug. “Good. I mean, I’mgladhe’s dead, and I’mgladyour husband shot him, and I’m really sorry about what happened to you.”

Neve smiles wryly.

We don’t have to say anything else. We’re on the same page.

“Let me see what I’ve got in white…”

“How about anythingbutwhite, actually?”

She turns to grin at me. “I like where you’re going with that. Wanna take a look?” She beckons with her head as she walks into a massive closet the same size as Eilish’s.

Inside, I start to trace my fingers over a rack of gowns and dresses, pulling a few out here and there, but ultimately putting them back on the rack.

Finally, I spot it.

And it’sperfect.

Neve grins widely at the black, floor-length, scoop-neck dress with the long trailing sleeves.

“Thatwas my Morticia Addams Halloween costume my senior year of high school.”

“Is it too—”

“I honestly think it’s fucking perfect. All black for a fake wedding?” She grins. “Very goth. Go for it. I’ll give you some privacy to try it—”

“Oh, it’s fine. I don’t really mind.”

Standing in front of the floor-length mirror, I slip off my leggings, t-shirt, and hoodie and start taking the dress off the hanger.

Then I see Neve’s face in the mirror.

Her wide, horrified eyes as they land on the pink scars crisscrossing my back.

“God, I’m so sorry,” she blurts, turning away. “I—”

My mouth twists wryly as I turn to face her. “Guess we both know how good he was at leaving scars.”

She stiffens, her mouth small as her eyes snap to mine. Something passes between us. Maybe it’s a truce. Or acknowledging the pain in each other’s past.

Or just an understanding that despite it all we both survived.

I turn back and pull the dress on, adjusting it and letting my hair drape down the back. In the mirror, I watch my own lips curl into a grin.

“Ohhellyes.”

Still grinning, I turn at the sound of Callie’s voice to see her and Eilish standing next to Neve in the doorway to the walk-in closet.

Eilish giggles. “Honestly, I have no idea if Cillian’s going to hate it or love it.”

“I don’t really care either way,” I murmur.

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