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"Yeah, sure," Riggs said. "Do you have a preferred scent, or do you want us to pick for you?"
"I actually really like lavender, but if-"
"I was fucking with you. You'll get what you get."
And with that, he closed the door.
I flopped back on the bed and sighed. Just when I caught myself wondering if Riggs was really so bad, he’d go and say something like that.
I’d actually dated a guy once in high school. I met him in one of my virtual school classes. We’d video chat each other after class each day, and sometimes talk for hours. He was into books like I was, even if they weren’t the same ones. We still had fun suggesting stories to each other. I’d tease him about how dorky his favorite fantasy and sci fi books were and he’d joke about how sappy and lame my romances were.
He’d been so nice to me at first, but little by little, it soured. He started pressuring me to meet in person. No matter how I explained it, he would try to lay the guilt on hard enough to change my mind, but my sister always cut that idea off. The last thing you need to be doing is swapping spit with some teenager who probably bathes once a week.
She was right, of course, but I still resented her for it. And the resentment only got worse when he started making excuses to miss our calls after class. Eventually, he broke up with me and blocked me online.
I remembered thinking how the part that hurt most was seeing him go from this sweet, nice guy who seemed to really like me to a cold and heartless bastard over the course of a few weeks. Mostly, people figured out something was wrong with me and they didn’t bother getting close. He was different, and he was worse. I’d spent the years since remembering how it felt to watch him sour on me in real time.
And now there was Riggs.
Of course, I had to take all the supernatural stuff and throw that as far to the side as possible before I could even start to look at the situation.
What I saw made my heart beat faster. I’d seen enough movies and read enough books to see through the smokescreens. People lied with their words all the time, but it wasn’t as common for them to lie with their actions. And Riggs? His words said I was a nuisance he wished he could be rid of as soon as possible.
His actions, though? I thought of him coming all the way from the street to my apartment to tell me how reckless my little paper airplane was. Or how he’d apparently thought enough of the interaction to keep an eye on my apartment, because he was right there when we needed him. I thought of him carrying me when I got sick, and now looking after me and my sister. Protecting us.
I stared at the ceiling; brow furrowed in thought.
The question haunting me was what I’d do if Riggs actually did care about me like that? Would I want to go down the same road I’d gone with my virtual boyfriend back in high school? Force him to make accommodations for my condition until he felt as trapped as I was and decided to run for greener pastures?
I let out a frustrated sigh and rolled to my side, staring at the door where he’d left.
I was probably wasting my time thinking about it. All I needed to do was remember that Riggs was a man. A full blown, bonafide man. I was probably like a little, stupid girl to him. In all likelihood, I was misreading things.
He popped back in the room, maybe less than a couple minutes since he’d left. “Crab or lobster?” he asked.
“What?”
“I’m getting you fried fish cakes. What do you prefer, crab or lobster?”
“I thought I was going to get what I get,” I said, trying to mimic his deep voice.
Riggs glared. “Lobster, then.”
The door closed, and I found myself grinning.
16
Sylvie
I lost track of time but thought it had maybe been a day since Riggs brought me to this room. There were no windows and no way to know what time it was outside. Our phones were dead, and I hadn't bothered to ask Riggs, who was usually busy bringing me meals or glowering in the corner of the room like he didn't even want the shadows getting too close to my bedside.
He was as dedicated to watching over us as a guard dog. There was a relentless energy to him, and I'd literally seen him sleeping with one eye open a few hours ago. When I waved my hand, his other eye shot open and he had just stared at me before eventually closing his other eye again and going still.
