They both look to me as if I’m going to contradict that, as if I’m going to kick them out on their asses.
“You know you can stay,” I tell Scarlet. “Mi casa es... everybody’s fucking casa.”
“She can sleep in my room,” Leo says. “Mel and I can take the couch tonight.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Scarlet says. “I’m not taking your bed from you. We can just crash right here.”
“Besides, who-fucking-knows what the two of you have done on that bed, what kind of ‘monkey see, monkey do’ shit you play when you get naked,” I say. “It would take us until sunrise to sanitize the mattress to make it safe for her to sleep on.”
Leo shoots me a look. “Are you kidding me? She’s asleep on a couch you supposedly stole from a strip club.”
“One that I thoroughly sanitized.”
“You sprayed it with Lysol.”
“Which kills 99.9% of germs.”
“Pretty damn sure syphilis falls into that .1%, bro.”
“What the hell do you know about syphilis?”
“I took a health class.”
“That better be all you took when it comes to syphilis.”
“Guys,” Scarlet says, cutting in, physically stepping in front of me before I can question him more. “Seriously, I’m fine right here.”
“I’ll take the couch,” I say, looking at Scarlet. “You can take my room.”
“But—”
“Enough with the fucking buts,” I tell her. “My bed’s big, it’s comfortable, you’ve slept in it dozens of times before. Besides, it’s not like I’m actually going to be doing any sleeping. So just... take her to my room.”
She scowls but doesn’t argue, walking over to pick up her daughter. The kid sleeps right through it, not even opening her eyes as Scarlet carries her from the room and takes her upstairs.
I stroll into the living room, toward the couch.
“I can’t get over how stinkin’ cute she is,” Melody says as I approach. “Like, whoa, she looks just like Morgan. That’s got to be a mind-fuck for her.”
“Right?” Leo grins, looking at his girlfriend. “Can you imagine a little Mel running around?”
As soon as my brother says that, I reach over, smacking him on the side of the head. “Don’t get any ideas. You better be wrapping it every single time.”
He winces, grabbing his head. “Jesus, bro... I am.”
“Good. I’m not ready for you to make me an uncle.”
“Aw, Uncle Lorenzo,” Leo says with a laugh. “You know, you’re always talking about how you raised me, which would kind of make you Grandpa, wouldn’t it?”
I glare at him, shoving him over to sit down on the couch. “Get the fuck out of my face, Pretty Boy, before I lock you in a tower until you turn thirty-five.”
Rolling his eyes, he stands up, grabbing Melody’s hand to lead her out. “Come on, Mel... lets go defile this mattress of ours some more.”
I groan as he flicks the light switch, turning the lights off on me on his way out. “I swear to fuck... wrap it up or I’ll rip it off.”
“Noted,” Leo hollers back. “Goodnight, bro.”
Goodnight.
Sighing, I lay down on the couch, not bothering to even take my boots off. There’s no ceiling fan in here, a fact I’m just now noticing. I’m not even sure how to force myself to fall asleep anymore without incessantly watching the fan blades go round and round and round until I pass out.
Fuck.
I lay here for what feels like forever, analyzing the plain white ceiling in the darkness. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. I’m going out of my fucking mind.
Digging in my pocket, I grab my tin, pulling out a freshly-rolled joint and lighting it. Dropping the tin and the matches onto the coffee table, I lay there on my back, covering my eyes with my left forearm and smoking in silence.
I hear the floor creak after a while and move my arm, peeking over, my gaze instantly meeting Scarlet’s in the shadows. Before I can even greet her, she climbs onto the couch, sitting right on top of me and straddling my waist. Wordlessly, I hold out the joint, and she grabs it, no hesitation, taking a deep drag, drawing the smoke into her lungs before passing it right back. I watch her in the sliver of moonlight filtering through the nearby window, watch as she tilts her head back and closes her eyes, slowly exhaling. She’s wearing only a pair of black underwear and a too-big black t-shirt. My shirt, I realize, straight out of my closet.
“Stealing from me again?” I ask, my free hand slipping beneath the shirt and coming to rest on her slim waist.
She smiles, looking down at me. “Just borrowing it.”
“Did you ask?”
“Can I wear it?”
“Fuck no.”
She laughs as I tuck what’s left of the joint between my lips to grab the shirt. Her hands go up, letting me pull it off and toss it onto the coffee table.
No bra.
Reaching up, I palm her tits, squeezing them, tweaking her nipples, watching as they perk up, growing hard under my touch. She snatches the joint right from my lips, smoking the little bit that’s left.
After caressing her chest, my hands trail down her stomach, my fingertips tracing the scar beneath her belly button.
“He didn’t want to take me to the hospital,” she says quietly, discarding the remnants of the joint.
I meet her gaze, raising an eyebrow curiously.
“He said women gave birth at home all the time, that I’d be fine, that I didn’t need a doctor—I just needed to be a woman. So I gave birth on a mattress in the basement of Limerence… there, not at home, because he didn’t want to have to listen to my screams.”
Soundproof.
“You did it alone?”
“Some of the girls were allowed to check on me, but for the most part…” She trails off, a soft smile on her lips. “I was by myself when I had her. He came down after it was over. Took her, cleaned her up.”
She averts her eyes. I can tell there’s more to the story. Hell, I know there is. My fingers graze along the scar again. “So where did this come from?”
“He took me to a hospital afterward,” she says. “Markel convinced him to. I was sick, hemorrhaging blood. I ended up needing a hysterectomy. That’s when they, you know—”
“I know,” I say before she has to explain.
She can’t have kids anymore.
Makes sense why she told me she couldn’t get pregnant. I took her at her word, pretty sure only a fool would risk making a baby with me, but I figured she just put herself on some potent birth control, given the life she was living. Never crossed my mind to think she might’ve had that choice ripped away from her when she was still just a teenager.
He stole more from her than I realized.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, those words from my lips before I even think about what the hell I’m saying.
Her eyes instantly meet mine. “Did you just—?”
“Apologize,” I say, letting out a laugh. “Sure as fuck sounded like it, huh?”
She smiles as she leans over me, pausing with her lips just shy of mine. “Thank you.”