AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“They weren’t always like that,” I point out. Fuck knows why I’m defending them though. They are arseholes. Entitled too.
“Please tell me you at least had the upper hand when you saw them? Did you look hot?”
“You’re my gay cousin. You don’t get to comment on my hotness levels. Anyway, I think they got to me first.” I hesitate. Should I mention it to Harry?
Fuck it. It’s hardly going to be a secret after my big outburst yesterday.
“They gave me a welcome gift.”
“Was it a severed head? I heard it’s the latest home decor in Vogue,” he quips.
“Hilarious. No, it’s a little more personal than that…”
“More personal than the heads of your enemies, gift wrapped in tissue paper?”
I laugh because that happened two times, and the first time, it wasn’t even a human head.
“What the hell is that?” I squeal, dropping the paper lined box to the floor in fright.
“It’s your Valentine’s gift.”
“But what is it?”
“It’s that mouse. Well, the head of it. The one you said was keeping you awake at night. We caught it and killed it for you. The trap sliced it clean in two.”
“And you boxed it up as a gift?!”
“Don’t you like it?”
“No!!!” I lie, even though I'm strangely touched by the gesture. And a little jealous that they did killing things without me again.
I smile at the memory. Weirdly, not the strangest Valentine’s gift I ever got.
Not everything those boys did is tainted. I can still reminisce over the good times while hating them. If anything, knowing what we had, what they destroyed and threw away like it was worthless, makes me hate them more. Maybe I need to keep reminiscing to ensure I stay angry. Because when I confronted them yesterday, even though I was mad as hell at them, I was angry for all the wrong reasons. And the dreams I had about all three of them last night don’t sit well with me at all.
“Shut up and I’ll tell you!” I laugh and then my face falls when I remember the actual gift I’m referring to. I should be a hell of a lot angrier about it than I am. Hell, they shouldn’t be breathing right now. At the very least there should have been bloodshed. “They gave me a tattoo.”
There’s silence on the line and then Harry hisses out his breath all in one go.
“Please tell me you all went down to The Bull and Bear in Deathfall and chose a design together,” he says, referring to the tattoo parlour back in our hometown where the boys all got their first ink. Harry was visiting that weekend and came with us. I wanted to get ink too but they all put their foot down and forbade it. Ironic, huh, given that they’ve now branded me without my permission.
“I woke up with it, and no memory.”
“Do you think you were drugged?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Fuck!” he barks. “One of Tom’s?”
“Pretty sure it’s his handiwork.” I reply, idly tracing my fingers over the design through my blouse.
Though god knows how they would have drugged me, taken me there, got me tattooed and back into bed all in one night.
“So it at least looks good?” Harry asks hopefully.
“Ha-ha. Dick.” It does look good though. Not that I want to admit it. I’d never choose it for myself and I certainly wouldn’t ever get a chest tattoo, but there’s no denying it’s both delicate and strong. Beautiful and expertly executed.
“Do I even want to know what the psychopaths have branded you with this time?”
