“Are you sure you don’t want to stay until you know for sure?” Death asks Nia.
She shakes her head, “I promise I will never keep something like that a secret. I would never keep your children from you.” Nia turns my way. Her beautiful eyes shine with sincerity.
“Children…” I run a hand through my hair, feeling my heart gallop in my chest.
“Don’t panic,” Nia reassures me. “The chances of me being pregnant are very small. I don’t feel any different. Surely I would know if I was?” I can see she’s not buying her own reasoning.
“You said that not many hellhounds are fertile,” I say.
She nods. “Exactly.”
“And we only had unprotected sex twice,” I say.
“All it takes is once. I hate to break it to the two of you.” Death is frowning. “Twelve became pregnant in that house. It’s not a part of the Underworld, even if it is in the Underworld. A lot of this magic stuff is complicated.” He rolls his eyes. “I’ll wait over there while you say your goodbyes. Don’t take too long. I might end up being summoned.” His face turns red. His whole stance becomes tense. I’m sure he is thinking about the demon.
“You have my number?” I say for the third or fourth time.
Nia nods. “Yes, and you have mine?”
I nod. “You’ll—”
“I’ll call you if…if there’s anything to report.”
I push at the dirt beneath my feet with the toe of my boot. “I wish you’d wait a few weeks. You don’t even have to stay here.”
I need to let her go!
“I’m not pregnant, Rage. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do.”
I wish she was. I wish it so hard it hurts me inside. I know I’m being stupid, because a pregnancy would force her to stay. I don’t want to force Nia to do anything. If she comes back to me, I want it to be because she’s made the decision. I want her to take the plunge. To dive into the amazing life we could have.
I have to let her go! I must!
“I guess this is goodbye, then,” I say.
She nods. “Thank you for everything. I owe you so much.”
“You don’t owe me anything. I feel like I got closure where Warrick is concerned. I’m not as afraid of my powers. I found out things about myself I wouldn’t have otherwise. I think I’m a better person for knowing you.”
I watch her throat work. “I wish I had met you first. I wish I wasn’t so afraid.” Her eyes cloud up.
There is nothing I can say that would change her mind. Nothing I can do. I have to let her go.
“Take care of yourself.” Her eyes look like they’re glinting. Like maybe she wants to cry. Nia reaches up and kisses me on my cheek.
My fucking cheek.
My chest tightens.
“You too,” I say. I keep my hands firmly in my pockets.
I watch her walk away. I watch Death take her hand. I watch them disappear. I feel the dark descend around me. I feel my scowl return to my face. I feel my mouth set in a grimace. I know it’s corny, but I feel a piece of my heart leave with her. I feel empty in the space it used to fill. The rest of me is bleeding. The old me would take solace in the pain, the suffering. I don’t! I’m forever changed.
25
Rage
Three weeks later…
There is a knock at the door. I ignore it. There are more knocks and shouts. Trident wants me to let him in. I ignore him and turn the sound up. I bought this seventy-inch flat-screen television with surround-sound system two weeks ago. Best buy ever! I’m binge-watching the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. I’m halfway through The Two Towers. My phone pings with a message. I know it’s Trident, but like a complete pussy I check anyway because it could be…her. Maybe…just maybe. I feel hope rise. That same hope is dashed when I see Tri’s name on the screen. I’m a fucking asshole. I want to ignore the messages, but I open them since the phone is in my hand.
I know you’re home.
Let me in!
This isn’t healthy.
I see the three dots that tell me he is writing another message. I groan with irritation and turn my phone over on the coffee table. Then I turn the television sound up even louder.
I keep watching the movie. The knocking and pinging have stopped. Good! I think he’s left. I don’t need the hassle. I want to see what happens next in the movie.
The window is open behind me. The blinds are drawn. I hear Trident. “I know you’re in there,” he yells. “Let me in already.”
Fucking hell!
Whatever happened to privacy?
If I ignore him long enough, he’ll go away. I know this because it isn’t the first time he’s been here. It’s the fifth or the sixth time this week. He’s definitely tenacious. I’ll give him that. Tenacious and irritating.
There’s a loud thump. “Fuck!” Tri growls. He’s inside my house. On the floor. He climbed in through the window.
“You broke into my house.” I sit up on the sofa. “What the fuck, asshole!” I put my movie on pause. “This is a good part. As you can see, I’m absolutely fine. You can go now. You can let yourself out. Use the door this time, you weirdo.”
Trident stands up and dusts off his pants. I might not have vacuumed for a couple of days…a week…maybe more. Time has been a bit blurred. It’s not a biggie, just a bit of dust.
“Fine?” Tri snorts. “You’re not fine. Look at you. Look at this house.” He looks around. “It fucking stinks in here. You stink.” He wrinkles his nose. “When last did you last shower? Look at that shirt. Your hair.”
“What’s wrong with my hair?” I touch it, and it flops into my eyes.
“You need a cut. Worse yet, it’s greasy.” He starts to open the blinds and more windows. He opens the back door. “Air!” he exclaims with so much drama I’m instantly irritated.
“What are you doing?” I yell.
“This place needs ventilation and light.”
I squint as sunlight streams into the room. “Stop that!” I shout. “I’m watching a movie. There’s glare on the screen.”
“You’re a pig!” Tri shouts, his eyes moving about the place.
I shrug. “I had a couple of pizzas.” I look around the room. I hadn’t really noticed, but the counter is covered in takeout boxes. “And some Chinese,” I mumble. “And maybe some—”
“And a couple of beers.” Trident picks up one of the bottles on the coffee table. “And whiskey.”
There are three empty bottles. I shrug. “It’s not like I can get drunk.”
“It’s a fucking pigsty in here. None of us have seen you in weeks.”
“I’m fine.”
“Back to the ‘I’m fine’ bullshit. You, my friend, are not fine at all. You’re wallowing in self-pity, and it has to stop today. Right now. Get up off that sofa!” Tri yells at me.
“No! I’m watching—”
“I don’t give a fuck.” He glances at the screen. There’s a picture of a screaming orc in the midst of battle. He’s an ugly mother.