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Almost—ALMOST– I allow myself to get caught up in the fantasy of being swept away, and starting over… But I tried that already. I came here—I wanted to things better and I just ended up making my life a mess. I went from being hated by my family to being wanted by the Mob—maybe two Mobs. Dad would sarcastically call that ‘progress in the opposite direction’.
“Styx, but I can’t afford it. The cost of living… America is so expensive and medical insurance is crazy. And transportation, and housing, and clothing.”
And people—lots of judgey humans.
“I’m not sure I’d be cut out for the program—any program with all my drama—and there’s your mom, and the store, and…” So many reasons for not going flood to the service that they jumble up in my head and create a mess. I exhale and try to focus on just one point at a time—or rather the one that’s the most important. “It’s nice of you to offer, Styx, but it’s not in my budget. You might not have noticed, but I’m poor.”
He growls and raises his voice at me, “Is death in your budget? Should I be asking you how you’d like to be buried then, when my father decides to kill you? Cremation is the cheaper option, I suppose.” He glances at Lloyd’s ashes. “Would you prefer to be ash?”
I’d prefer to be stable, but I don’t tell him that. “Styx—”
He reaches behind him for one of my shoes and chucks it at the urn, hitting it at the base and knocking it over. Ashes spread all over the floor and the spines of the books. “You want to be that?” He points to the remains. “Dust?”
That can’t be hygienic.“No,” I answer hoping to God I don’t get a mouthful of Lloyd.
“Good.” Styx tugs at my chin, popping my bottom lip from my teeth. “Let me be clear: I’m not leaving you here to die, Snow. You didn’t let my mother or I go in peace, so I’ll give you hell if it means saving you.”
He’s stubborn.
“As for the cash flow, you have the money from the drugs, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Use that as your spending money. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Wait.“Are you offering to pay for my school?” I’m not sure how that works, what that means for me, or if I like that. “I don’t want to be a p-prostitute. For anyone.” I glance at the cautionary books around us. “It doesn’t always end well.”
Styx leans his head down to me. “Though the thought of you being at my beck and call sounds really fucking good, Snow, the school offers stipends. You can student-teach to help get some cash. And don’t dare tell me you aren’t good enough to teach. Oh, and… Worry on the “starts” because endings are rewriteable.”
Fine.“What about your mom? That money was for her. She needs to be moved somewhere that can help take care and rehabilitate. She was in the hospital last week, and I made a scene because the home let her fall; now they won’t let me see her because I’m not family.”
“I’ll take care of my mom. You’ve done everything you could for her, and I’m grateful for that.” The blush creeps down my cheeks, to my breasts, and probably lower, but my brain is thinking of all the reasons why I can’t go. Of what happens if I stay. Of Lloyd. “What about the shop?”
“I’ll take care of it too.”
“And the bills? They’re overdue and people keep—”
He slides his hand down to my ass and cups one of my cheeks, squeezing hard, then massages just above where my butt cheeks meet. The sacrum. The tension in my spine slowly dissolves. “Snow, are you always so worried about everything other than yourself?”
“These are things I’m responsible for, so technically, I am worrying about myself.” I shrug as I loosen up, and his fingers gently glide over the curvature. “They need to be paid—”
“I got it,” he reassures and wraps his arm around me, snuggling tight. “Let me figure things out for a while.”
I’m not used to that.“And if I do this, go with you to America, I get to see you again? Are you not allowed on campus either?”
He rests his cheek on the top of my head. “I’m special... I went to school at SU and I finished, but I’m there every once in a while, on...business.”
“The Moroccan Snow kind of business?”
“Not something you need to know yet.”
“And after school, what happens if I have to leave? A Post-doc doesn’t last forever.”
“There’s only one way I can offer you protection after your done at SU, and it may require you to trust me. Like really trust me.”
“Are you trustworthy, Styx?” I joke, but not really. I want to hear him say the truth.
“Sometimes.” He drops a kiss to my forehead. “But with you, I’ll try to be all the times.”
