“To where we can finally let go of what was expected of us and be just that, us.”
I was so distracted by him whisking us away in the helicopter that I didn’t notice holds brought with him a small leather bag. He releases my hand and opens the bag, taking out something I can’t quite make out in the dim moonlight. As he tosses the bag, I still don’t pay attention or try to attempt to see exactly what he has in his hands. In this moment, all I see is him. He’s all I have ever wanted; in whatever form he graces me with.
Inching closer to me, he continues. “One day, when I am reduced to nothing but bones beneath the dirt, my spirit will attach itself to yours. I will haunt your heart, as you have haunted mine, so you never forget that we belong to each other. In life, in death, and every concept in between. We have been marked, and you,mi reina, are the fate I accept with every fiber of my fractured being. You are my flower, and I am your hummingbird. Nothing can tear me away from you, not again. I have killed every obstacle that stood in our way, including my old self, to be here, where I stand with you right now. Where I will stand, always, because like the hummingbird and the flower, like the skeleton and the rag doll, you and I are meant to be.”
Hearing Carmine’s declaration of his love for me brings me back to that day years ago at Oogie’s. The ticking of the grim reaper clock is almost audible in my mind as I teleport my memories back to that day. I can still remember every detail of the scythe on the clock and its engraving that read “memento mori.”
Remember, you must die.
Before I can respond, he raises his other hand upward to reveal what I had almost forgotten he retrieved from his bag. Suddenly, a round, pale mask emerges. He stretches back the elastic from the mask, bringing it to his face. The moon shines on his now masked face, revealing pitch-black eyes with a devious, stitched grin against an all-white mask.
The darkness of night makes his internal darkness glow that much brighter. Most would run in the presence of such raw honesty, but I could never run from him. Only to him. Here, in this place, surrounded by the reminder that this life is fleeting, I feel nothing but my fate seeping in.
My fate is him. My king in life and death. And I, his queen.His reina.
“What do you say?” he says, holding out his hand for me to take. Instead, I lie down on the ground in front of the tombstones that eerily have our names etched in them. As I lean back on the ground, he drops to his knees, following my lead.
As I lay here with his weight on top of me, a man who I ironically thought was dead, I realize there is another kind of death aside from when our bodies leave this earth. There is death of expectation. The loss of what we think our life will be and what it instead becomes.
I never expectedthis. I never expected to have lost so much in my life yet gain even more than I could have ever fathomed. I never expected him to save my heart from the pain that he unknowingly caused. Yet, in his presence, I am met with the end of what I thought would be my fate and the living, breathing reminder of what is to come.
“What do you want?” he urges.
“For you to fuck me one last time as Sienna Ricci.”
“And who will you be after,mi reina?”
“Whoever I want to be.”
He is the needle. I am the thread. Together, we will weave a beautiful nightmare from the dead.
Epilogue
Sienna
Three Years Later…Halloween.
A warm breeze filters through the open window in my home office, letting in the crisp, autumn-drenched air. The sound of leaves rippling in the wind as they fall from the trees is mixed with the distinct chirping of thecoquisthat echo in the distance. It’s a sound that I have grown to love the longer we have lived here. Autumns are warmer here on the island than back home in New York. But the beauty of this island feels more like home than anywhere else.
This year marks three years since we have made the island our home. Carmine inherited land from his mother that he spent years dedicating to building an off-the-grid escape for us. Our own slice of Heaven on Earth, our beautiful gothic oasis.
I lean back in my velvet chair, admiring the scenery outside my window as Carmine shifts his weight from where he is positioned under my desk.
“Please, for me,” he begs as he lifts his head from in between my legs.
I roll my office chair back, allowing him to come up for air. It’s no wonder that he spent so much time picking out the perfect desk for me to write at, because he spends enough time underneath it while I write.
I look down at him, kneeling before me. I will never tire of how he makes my heart skip a beat when I am in his presence. “It’s not finished yet. I don’t want to read it to you until it is perfect.”
Still on his knees, he leans toward me, bringing his hands to my knees as he lifts himself slightly, coming closer to my face. He licks his lips before bringing them to my neck for a kiss. He knows that is my weakness. He won’t stop seducing me until he gets what he wants. Persistent man.
He trails his tongue down my neck until his lips are at my collarbone. I jump, as the cool sensation of his breath hits my skin as he sinks his teeth gently into my flesh.
“That’s what you said about your last two books, and they are both best sellers,” he reminds me in -between nibbles.
I still can’t believe I am finally an author. Granted, it would have been nice to write under my given name, but with the business Carmine is in and the disastrous trail we left behind, a clean slate was needed. More importantly, an untraceable one.
“I know but—”
