She places them all onto the counter as Madison pours hot popcorn from the microwave into a large bowl. It smells like a cinema in the kitchen. “Yes. Don’t ask.”
“I don’t have to because I’m pretty sure we all feel the same way.”
Madison growls, “I’m so mad.”
“Are you, though?” Tillie asks, an eyebrow quirked. She sighs, leaning against the counter. “Okay, so they made us marry them right now.” She looks between us. “Remember, we planned to marry them eventually anyway.”
“It’s not that with me,” I say, reaching for the bag of Lay’s. “It’s that they did it as a ploy, and for what? I don’t know. We still don’t know because they’re all very good and capable of keeping secrets from us, which, by the way, I said I did not want and Brantley agreed. I feel like Brantley only told me that he will be honest with me so that I didn’t go searching for truths by using my curse.” I pop open the jar of Nutella spread, bringing it to my nose and sighing. I love Nutella. I grab a couple of chips and dip them into the spread. “I wanted to know everything.” I bite into the chocolate-dipped chip. “I’m mad about that, but I also know there’s a chance I’m being unreasonable, but I can’t help being so mad.” I run the edge of my thumb over the rim of my bottom lip, sucking off the gooey residue.
“What is it you’re mad about?” Madison asks, reaching for a chip and following what I just did.
I run my tongue over my teeth, sighing. “I don’t know.”
We get halfway through our second movie when the girls all fall asleep. Madison and Tillie are spread out on the lazy boys with their feet hanging over the side, and Ophelia and Ivy are laid out over their blankets on the floor. The movie is still playing. Pulp Fiction. I massage my temples in an attempt to subdue the throbbing headache I’ve likely caught because of all the sugar. I’m in nothing but an oversized Riverside Prep hoodie and fuzzy white socks that reach just below my calf. My hair is tied into a high pony by a big white scrunchie, but it still almost falls to just above my tailbone. Hades and Kore are on either side of my chair, resting quietly. I need the silence to think. Tillie is right, we all most likely would have married them eventually, but they took away our control. That’s why I’m mad, I decide.
“Roughly how long are you all going to be mad?” Bishop interrupts my silence from the door, and I turn to face him, hitting pause on the movie with the projector remote.
“I don’t know.”
He continues walking in until he’s beside me on the chair. “Ophelia and Ivy going to stay here?”
“Yeah,” I say, crossing my arms in front of myself. “At least until Veronica is accounted for. I don’t trust that she won’t punish them.” I turn to face him. “What is it that you’re all keeping from us?”
Bishop shakes his head. “Saint, I love you. I do. But there are certain laws that we still have to abide. I get that all three of you, though vastly different, all agree with one thing, and that’s you think you want to know what happens. And maybe you do truly want to know, but what it still can’t change is that you won’t.” Bishop is good with twisting his words and making people think they got an answer without actually giving an answer. Poor Madison.
“I know he kills people, Bishop,” I whisper softly, my eyes glassing over as I fight my tears to stay down.
“But that’s all you know, and that’s all he wants you to know.” Bishop kicks out his feet. “Did he tell you about the sort of shit that happened to him when he was a kid?”
“Not really. I know things did happen to him because sometimes he would come home with blood on himself, but I never asked him what.”
“That’s what he needed, Saint,” Bishop says, his eyes on mine. “Someone who never asked him what.”
I sigh, resting my head back against the sofa.
“How mad is she?” Bishop nudges his head over to where Madison is sprawled, her long brown hair trailing behind her.
“Mad, mad.”
Bishop smirks, his eyes darkening. “Good.”
“She’s pregnant. Be nice,” I scold him, leaning up off my chair to reach the back of Kore’s ear.
“I’m never nice. And if I was, I wouldn’t have caught her attention.”
“Leave them here for tonight. Let them come home when they want. Give them some control.”
Bishop scoffs. “Fuck no.” He stands and makes his way to where Madison sleeps. I glare at him, but he ignores me and scoops his arms under her body, picking her up effortlessly. “Night, princessa.”