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“Shutyour goddamn mouth,”Adrianbellows, pushing me aside and storming towardNorma.
Shebacks up, all the way until she hits whatI’massuming is her car.Shewinces, cowering away when he points a finger in her face.
“Youcome here, the botanica, or aTimelessshow ever again,I’llmake damn sure you get this stupid fucking curse back tenfold,” he swears, shouting. “Andyou’ll hear from my lawyer.Comprende?”
Hereyes shimmer, welling up with tears.
“LeavebeforeIcall the cops,” he warns before spinning around.Hegrabs my hand and pulls me inside the house, slamming the door shut behind us.
Adrianstands watch and peers through the small barred window in the door until a car door slams and the hum of a vehicle disappears.
Whenhe faces me,Islip my arms around his waist and pull him close.Heleans in and kisses me fully, his hand cupping my face to hold me longer.
“Iwould say that was a sign for us to go back to bed,”Adrianmurmurs, thumb stroking the apple of my cheek, “butIknowZakwill be home soon, andIdon’t trust him around you right now.”
Myhand covers his. “Idon’t know why communion isn’t working anymore.”
“Maybehe’s not sorry enough for his sins in confession,”Adriansays mockingly. “Ormaybe because it’s not actual blood.”
“Maybe… maybeIhave to be the one to feed him.”
“Ifyou thinkI’mgonna let you become a walking blood donation, think again.”
“Iwant to do whatever it takes to make things work.”
“Stephani, this might be the sign that itwon’twork,” he says gravely with hardened eyes. “Ifyou think constantly risking your life by being around him is something that’s gonna work—”
“Thenwhy amIbothering with the band?”Irespond, searching his eyes for something beyond anger and jealousy—a real answerIknow he doesn’t have.
Hisglower stays hot for the longest moment before dying down. “Takemy truck and get home safe; we’ll get your car tomorrow.”
Istart to turn untilAdrianpulls me back and kisses me hard, but not rough.Hislips move against mine like they’re wordlessly telling me some deep secret, or begging me to stay when we both knowIcan’t.
Hekisses me again at the door, and again when he walks me to the truck.Andagain beforeIhead out.Andonce more when he tells me to stay put so he can grab my purse for me soIdon’t forget it again.
Breathinga sigh of relief,Iturn onto the road to home, where trees hide the setting sun.
Therelief is short-lived whenIpark beside theJeep, though, realizing a different problem is still very much present.
Thehouse is dark and cool inside.MomandDadare out, meeting up with an accountant or a lawyer or someone important, but a figure sits outside on the back porch.
Pokingmy head out of the cracked door,Tylooks up from the half-full glass in his hands. “Hey.What’reyou doin’ out here?”
“Waitingfor you.”
Ishrug off the discomfort and step outside, joining him at the table.Butit only worsens and grows the longer we sit in silence, the longer we avoid looking at each other and evade the inevitable.
“If, by some miracle, you’ve come to your senses in the past few hours,”Tystarts, “then let me know.Otherwise,I’mheading home tomorrow.”
Rollingmy shoulders back,Itell him, “Ihave come to my senses.Youshould go home.”
Hisbrows knit. “Soyou’re tellin’ me that making up withZakis coming to your senses?”
“Iknow you don’t agree with it, butIlove him, okay?”
“Evenif he’s putting you in danger?”Tyquestions. “BecauseI’mpretty sure a healthy relationship wouldn’t involve a deal with the devil or looking like you’re gonna murder each other during a show.”
“Ty,I’msorry, but we’re through,”Istate firmly. “Thisis it for us.Period.I’msorry it’s ending like this, but everyone’s made it abundantly clear how they feel about everything, andI’vemade my decision.IchooseSanAntonio—Ichoose them.”
