“I’m not that little girl you found crying in the basement anymore.” She kicks the edge of the cot, jolting Janelle back into consciousness. “And this bitch is about to learn that lesson too.”
“Right. So, not to rain on your badass parade, but you literallyjusttalked me out of killing her.”
“Maybe I just didn’t want you to have all the fun.”
“Carly—”
“Goddess, drama king. I’m not going tokillher.” She heads to the supply table, selecting a few choice ingredients from the remaining stash and dropping them into one of the empty potion bottles. Then, swirling the contents until everything glows bright green, she grins and says, “Mommy Dearest and I are just going to have a little chat about boundaries.”
Nineteen
BAZ
After making Carly promise she won’t do anything crazy—at least, not the kind of crazy I was about to engage in—I go off in search of my girl, hoping like hell I can make things right. That I won’t fall apart before I get the chance. That I won’t fuck it up like I’ve done with everything that’s ever meant something to me in my whole damn life.
No pressure, dickhead.
But when I get back upstairs, she’s in the guest room with Ani, singing softly to him, encouraging him to come home. The sound of her sweet, off-key voice is enough to break my heart, but I leave her be, taking the opportunity to dump myself into a scalding hot shower.
She’s still with him when I finish, so I head outside for some air and a walk, clearing my head and burning off the last of the fury still smoldering in my gut.
When I return from the outing, she’s locked away in her bedroom with Kirin. After that, she’s on a video chat with Jessa, and I’m about thirty seconds from losing my damn mind. I drink a beer. I take another shower. Pace. Crawl up and down the damn walls.
Goddess, it’s all still such a jumble inside me, but one thing’s for sure—Carly’s right. I need to talk to Stevie. No matter how hard it is, no matter how long I have to wait.
I’ve been waiting years to get this out.
A few more minutes or hours or even days won’t kill me.
Just when I start to think I’m wrong about that, I finally get my big break. Gazing out the back window, I spot her outside, no other people or technology in sight. She’s on her knees in the yard, fingers raking through the dirt like she’s searching for some long-buried treasure.
It’s nearly dinner time now, the sun hanging low in the sky, and I leave the crew inside, half of them sorting through the wine stash, the rest helping Isla with some spicy Caribbean dish she’s cooking up.
Outside, Stevie’s so focused on her task, she doesn’t hear my approach.
So I stand there like an asswipe and watch her for a little while, wondering if I should lead with the apology or a joke or a question or the wise words of another man from another time, because surely I don’t have the smarts or the strength to manage this on my own.
“You’re welcome to stand there all night,” she says suddenly, “but I’m afraid this is about as exciting as it’s gonna get.”
“How did you know I—right. Never mind.” Of course she knows. She always senses us, always knows when we’re in her sphere. When we’re happy, when we’re in pain, when we want nothing more than to smother her with kisses. It’s one of the things I love about her, much as it makes me feel raw and exposed.
“So… How’s Ani?” I ask. “I heard you in with him earlier. Aerosmith, I believe?”
“Greatest hits.” She lets out a soft laugh, still digging in the dirt. “The singing… That’s kind of our thing, you know? I figured it might remind him of home.”
“I’m sure it does.”
I wait for her to turn around, but she doesn’t. Just keeps pushing the dirt back and forth with her fingers, back and forth, back and forth.
“Looking for something?” I ask.
“We might be here at the house for a while, so I figured I should make it more homey. I’m thinking of planting a garden. Just some herbs, or… I don’t know. Things I can use in my tea. Honestly, I just kind of felt like digging. But it turns out it’s not so easy without tools.”
“That all depends on who you ask.” I send a pulse of magick her way, and the ground before her splits into wider tracks, the tiny stones and debris hovering in mid-air for just a moment before I let it fall again. “I can teach you, if you’d like.”
At this, she finally turns to look at me over her shoulder. The sight of those big blue eyes kicks me right in the chest, and I have to fight not to run to her and fall at her feet, right there in the dirt.
“If you want to,” she says. Her voice is weary, her eyes uncertain, but Idowant to. More than anything.
