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We’re walking downstairs when he takes my hand and gestures down the elongated hallway. “When I built this house,” he starts talking while leading me down. The walls drip in blood, the red a darker take in the very eccentric home. “I mean, when I started on the designs, it was when I first found out I had a daughter. I designed her room first and then built around it. That’s why if you haven’t noticed—”
“—the house changes in themes. Based on your mood,” I finish for him, absently running my hand over the walls as we walk.
His fingers twitch in mine. “Exactly.”
“What did you do with Micaela’s room when she passed?”
He stops outside of a door and turns to face me. “If this is too much for you, I can change it. You can decide what to do with it. But for me, I figured this was what I wanted to do for now. A place we can go to feel her again when it starts to get numb.”
Nate opens the door and I pause. The walls are pure white with Victorian style window panes that overlook the backyard of the house. There’s a large purple rug in the middle of the floor and the walls are filled with large bookshelves, where all sorts of items sit inside little cubes.
“It’s perfect…” I whisper, stepping farther into the room. “I love it.” I turn around, flinging my arms around his neck and pulling him into me further. “Let’s get that tattoo.”
Tillie
Two weeks later
“This is weird,” Bailey murmurs, taking a seat beside me. It’s Halloween, and the party in the cemetery is in full swing. I think it’s the first time since we’ve all been back that I feel relaxed. After Nate’s display of his love for me, we spent the following weeks deciding what to do about our two homes. Obviously, he trumped me on Micaela’s room and the thought he put into his house, so we’ve decided to sit on mine. I refuse to sell it, it’s too perfect. Maybe we could eventually rent it out to someone we know.
“I know.” I shake my head, rubbing the palms of my hands down my legs. “I really miss Madison,” I add when my eyes drift around everyone that’s here.
Bailey hands me a glass of alcohol. “I hope I can meet her one day.”
I stare at the glass.
“Here.” She pushes the glass into my hands. I take it, placing the base onto my knees. The setup looks great. They’ve hung orange and yellow Jack-o’-lantern lights over the gravestones, and a DJ booth is set up near a large tomb.
“You’ll meet her. I plan to drag her home soon.”
Bailey laughs, her eyes flying around the place.
“Looking for Abel?” I tease, one quirked eyebrow.
Her face pales. “No. He hates me, and I hate him.”
“Hate,” I chuckle. “So much more complicated than its four letters.”
Nate’s arms snake around my neck from behind, and I tilt my head back to look up at him.
“Hey,” I whisper, kissing his arm. “Are you having a good time?”
He runs his lips over my forehead. “I could be having a better time, but Hector is inside the house and wants to have a chat.”
I groan, placing my glass onto the ground.
Brantley snickers. “Hector is scary as shit.”
I laugh, turning around and lifting Nate’s shirt, displaying his tattoo. “About as scary as this?”
Bailey chokes on her drink. “Holy shit. You actually put your name on him!”
I did. Above Nate’s “King” tattoo over his pelvis, I signed Tillie fucking Stuprum’s with a kiss. My lips and all. The artist had me kiss where I wanted it with red lipstick and then filled it all in. It’s my favorite.
“Yes, I did, because he’s my fucking King.”
Nate grins, pulling me to stand up. “Damn straight.”
“Okay. You guys are way too cute now. You need to go and sort Hector out.”
I wave her off and follow Nate down the dark pathway. When we’re halfway there, Nate picks me up by the backs of my thighs and flings me over his shoulder, slapping my ass.
“Nate!” I yell, tapping his back. “My stomach hurts!”
He laughs, slapping my ass again. “That’s not all that’s going to be hurting.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek as he carries me the rest of the way back to Brantley’s house. Once we’re inside, he gently sets me back to my feet and I shove him.
“Asshole. Stop manhandling me.”
I slowly turn around to find the rest of The Kings, Hector, Scarlett, Elena and Joseph in the large sitting room.
“Stuprum,” Hector announces, smiling at me.
I can’t smile back.
He did plan to take my daughter. “Why?” I ask, tilting my head. “I know you didn’t do it, but why did you plan to take her?”
He gestures to the sofa closest to his. I slowly sink into it, wrapping my hoodie around myself. “I know I don’t have to explain to you how dangerous this world can be.”
