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It is fine. I’m fine. Everything will be fine. My philosophy demands it. In a dark world, even the darkest parts, light finds a way to make the most of the worst things. Whatever happens I will keep moving forward. And I will be fine. Sniffing, I ask, “Does Lace have as much fun with you?”
Chip stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Actually, we have something called a healthy relationship. Ever heard of it?”
“Sounds weird. Does it involve mutual understanding, genuine care, and open communication?”
“Yes.”
I let free a low whistle. “Twisted.”
“Exactly the opposite.”
My nose scrunches. “Boring, then.”
Chip’s eyes roll as we continue down the walk. Once we’ve made it back, he gets the door for me, and distant laughter from one of the common rooms underlays the sound of a TV. Someone yells for someone else to pass the popcorn. A soda can fizzes open.
Every single person within the walls of The Giungla would take a bullet for me. No questions asked. That kind of loyalty goes beyond the pledge they made to my parents and, recently, the pledge they renewed with me. It goes deeper than fealty or a code of honor among criminals.
My Papa and Mama taught me too well how to endear myself to others in ways that consume their waking thoughts.
Their methods seep from my pores, as simple as breathing.
And those methods? They’re twisted.
In a world starving for kindness, everyone is begging for a place to belong. If you offer someone your hand and fulfill their basic emotional requirements, they’d rather die than lose their place at your side.
People are fragile. And that’s why they’re so easy to manipulate.
It’s not at all hard to wind up so surrounded, yet so entirely alone.
Saying goodnight to Chip, I head to my room and get Cupcake out of her cage before lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. She explores the dips in the comforter around my body, moves over my stomach, down my leg. The weight of her slick scales running against me soothes something tight in my lungs, but it doesn’t make all the pain go away.
I don’t think anything ever will.
So, I graze my lips with the back of one knuckle and sigh.
Chapter 11
~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s not manipulation if it wasn’t intentional.
Rowan
Every time I close my eyes, every time I blink, on the tail end of my every breath…
I can’t live like this.
I haven’t heard from Briar since she kissed me two days ago, yet thoughts of her have devoured my entire life. Sleep or wake, there’s no escape.
It’s just soft pink lips touching mine. Her hand on my chest. The almost aghast spark in her eye the moment I made myself pull back. Sheer, uninhibited shock crossed her expression in the breathless aftermath. The response still seems too raw to be anything but genuine, and I don’t know what to do with the feeling she hadn’t meant to kiss me.
Want.
Gripping a fist to my chest, I comb my fingers through my hair and check the clock. She’s supposed to be here already. She’s late. Is she late on purpose, to mess with me? Or is she too frivolous to care about punctuality?
She makes a mean spreadsheet.
But she’s also bottled chaos.
