Page 68 of Kings & Chaos

He looked me over slowly, and I couldn’t tell if he enjoyed the view or was just making sure I passed inspection, but a second later he nodded and started for the stairs.

“Let’s go.”

I followed him down the over-the-top winding staircase that emptied out into the foyer. The house was quiet, and I was starting to think we would make a clean getaway when I heard a voice behind us in the downstairs hall.

“Going somewhere?”

I turned to find my mom, standing with a cup of coffee and a pack of cigarettes and already dressed in jeans, heels, and a top that showed off her newly enhanced boobs. Despite the carefully applied makeup and blown-out hair, she looked old.

No, that wasn’t right. There was nothing wrong with old.

She looked tired.

Resigned.

“Going shopping,” Neo said.

“Does your father know?” she asked.

The nerve in Neo’s jaw jumped. “Don’t want to wake him. But you did say Willa needed new clothes, and I’m assuming you’d rather Bergdorf than the flannel and camo stores in Blackwell Falls.”

She studied him, like she was trying to assess whether he was bullshitting her, then turned to walk away. “Have fun.”

She didn’t sound like she meant it.

Chapter25

Willa

We made the drive into the city mostly in silence. Neo’s cologne filled the car, and I had to clench my thighs together and eventually crack the window to cool the fire burning my veins.

I fucking wanted him. No point lying to myself about that.

Being naked with him in the shower had only heightened my hunger for him, but now it was complicated (softened?) by the knowledge of the tattoo.

He’d had me inked onto his chest when he was seventeen and I’d never even noticed. I’d assumed the angel was some kind of religious thing — every kid in the family had been forced through the expected round of christenings, confirmations, and communions that went hand in hand with our Catholic upbringing — and on the rare occasion that he’d had his shirt off when I was around, I’d never gotten close enough to see the delicate unicorn choker around her neck.

I’d loved that choker and had worn it everywhere even though my mom thought it was tacky (the thought that my mom, Queen of Bad Taste, would think anything was tacky was funny in hindsight). My dad had defended my desire to wear it (let her have fun, Celeste) and then one day it had just disappeared.

It wasn’t until later that I’d wondered if my mom had trashed it when I wasn’t looking.

I didn’t know what the tattoo meant, and after last night, I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask. I didn’t want to admit that Neo’s rejection had hurt, but I’d spent the first half of the night replaying the scene in the shower, wondering what I’d done wrong, then hating myself for caring.

Pathetic after the way Neo had treated me.

Except last night hadn’t felt like garden-variety dick swinging. It had felt personal, like I was getting a glimpse of something raw and secret, something he hadn’t meant to show me.

We emerged from the Lincoln Tunnel into a sunny November day, and Neo navigated through the chaos of honking horns, aggressive cab drivers, and New Yorkers yelling obscenities out their car windows as people cut them off.

“You can just drop me,” I said.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Neo asked, eyes on the road and shielded by Versace sunglasses.

“At Bergdorf. I mean, thanks for the rescue back there, but I’m sure there are a million ways you’d rather spend the day than shopping with me at Bergdorf.”

“I’m not leaving you alone with some crazy fucker out there tailing you. And I’m not taking you to Bergdorf. That’s where your mom shops.”

“You said—”

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