Tear You Apart (12 page)

Viv wasn’t sure if Luxe was perpetually horny or just a gold digger, since Jewel let Luxe keep the gems that fell during their
makeout sessions—but she tended to assume the worst about Luxe. The girl had been breaking and entering in grade school, after all.

“No one died,” Jewel called back.

Luxe sighed dramatically and flopped into a new position on the couch. “Jewel, all your furniture is so lumpy.”

“You’re the only one who thinks so. Go hang out in the bedroom if you want.”

“I would, but your mattress is too hard. You need a new bed.”

“I’m not getting a new bed.”

“Unnnnh, I guess I’ll try this chair.…”

Viv rolled her eyes.

“So,” Jewel said. “Tell me what the big crisis is today. Before he gets out of the shower.”

“I met my prince,” Viv said quietly. “The prince from my curse.”

Jewel just stared. “Did I miss something? Like, your enchanted coma?”

“No, he hired a fairy to find me. He lives in the underworld.”

“The
underworld
?” A pink rose blossom tumbled out of Jewel’s mouth.

“Shh.” This was information for Jewel’s ears only. Viv didn’t want to share it with Luxe. “His brothers have a Twelve Dancing Princesses curse, but he’s a Snow White prince. His name is Jasper. He wants me to come back tonight. He asked me to stay there with him.”

“Are you serious? Does Henley know?”

“He knows I met my prince. But … that’s it.”

“You’re not really considering moving to the underworld.”

“I told Jasper I’d think about it. He says he can keep Regina away from me. And … Henley.”

Jewel snorted, and coughed up a few violets. “Yeah, I’m sure he’d
love
to keep Henley away from you. What’s this prince like?”

“Uh … nice? I don’t know. He wants to protect me, so I guess he falls somewhere on the hero scale. He doesn’t strike me as the spoiled playboy type. Or the creepy pervert type.”

“Too bad. I know you were looking forward to that.”

Luxe had been sulkily flipping channels, her legs draped over the arm of the chair. Now she was digging around in a cereal box, dangling pieces over her mouth and then dropping them in like she was feeding a seal. “Jewel,” she called, “these aren’t sweet enough. Don’t you have any good cereal?”

“I have cookies,” Jewel said.

“I tried those,” Luxe said. “The peanut butter was too sticky.”

“Oh my god,” Viv muttered. “When does it
end
?”

“She just needs attention,” Jewel said, a note of understanding making it sound affectionate.

She’s just annoying
, Viv thought. But she supposed everyone made excuses for the people they loved. She wondered what kind of excuses Henley made for her.

Jewel coughed some rubies into her handkerchief, then tipped them into a shot glass. “I don’t like the idea of you being in the underworld by yourself. You should bring me with you. Get another opinion.”

Viv nodded. “I’ll try to get you an invitation.”

“Good.”

Henley came back from the bathroom wearing the change of clothes he kept in his truck: a
Silva Landscaping
T-shirt and shorts. He sat down next to Viv at the breakfast bar, the wooden chair creaking as he dropped into it. He looked tired, like the shower had worn him out. Like it had given him too much time to think.

His hair and the back of his neck were wet, and Viv ran her fingers over his nape to wipe the water droplets off. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.

“You know what I find pretentious?” Luxe said. “Bears eating porridge. Bears are supposed to eat salmon. What the hell?”

Jewel went over and squished into the armchair next to Luxe, pulling her girlfriend against her like she was a big doll. “You’re right. Those bears were totally obnoxious. They deserved it when you wrecked their house.”

“Thank you,” Luxe said.

“You guys want to watch a movie with us?” Jewel asked.

Viv weighed the annoyance of watching a movie with Luxe—who was bound to complain that the volume was too loud (or too quiet), the plot was too predictable (or too confusing)—against leaving, when leaving would mean being alone with Henley, awkwardly silent and haunted by their exchange:

I don’t own you
.

Yes, you do, Viv. You know you do
.

Viv took her hand off his neck, touched his scarred knuckles instead. “Are you okay to stay for a while?”

He shrugged. “If you want.”

Jewel and Luxe were curled up in the armchair, so Viv and
Henley took the couch. There was plenty of room to spread out, but Viv leaned her head on his shoulder, and Henley put his arm around her, and they didn’t talk about it, didn’t say a word about how reckless it was to be over but not over.

They were like a firecracker that had burned up. The pretty picture, the sparkling moment was gone; they were just smoke and ashes now.

In a few hours, Viv would be getting dressed in her
Inferno
-themed outfit, clutching her invitation, waiting to utter the word
yes
so the silver marks would appear on her arms. She’d wait for Night to summon her, and then she’d step through a door to the underworld and dance all night with the boy who was meant to be her future. Every turn on the dance floor would be like kissing Henley good-bye.

She curled up with him and pretended they were a normal couple, that they were their old selves. It was amazing what you could believe when you wanted to.

Viv closed her eyes, relaxed into the gentle sensation of his fingers against her hair, steady and calm, like a heartbeat when nothing was wrong. She wrapped her arm around his chest as if she could hold on to that feeling. He was precious to her in moments like this, and it made hurting him seem like something she would never do, instead of something she always did. She regretted so much.…

Just end it
, she told herself
. Be good to him for once
.

But she didn’t.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“IT’S ALL RIGHT. You can come in. She’s gone.”

Henley was surprised Regina was even awake at this hour. It was close to midnight, and the house was dark and still. She stood with her hip against the doorframe, her hair spilling over one shoulder.

The garden was restless with the hum of insects, the rustling of nocturnal animals making their way across the grass. He’d come to see Viv, and he’d been lurking below her balcony, trying to decide if he should call her or go home when Regina opened the back door.

He meant to tell her
no
and leave, but found himself moving toward the door, into the same kitchen where Viv had told him about her prince. A moth fluttered in after him and flew up to hover around the light above the sink. The rest of the kitchen was dark. The scent of jasmine blew in through the screens, and Henley could hear bats in the garden. He should have known Viv was gone—none of the bats had flown into
her bedroom. They were always getting tangled up in her curtains when she was there.

“I’d offer to make coffee, but we don’t have any,” Regina said. “Vodka?”

He shook his head. “No thanks.”

“That’s right. You’re health-conscious—except for that smoking habit.”

“I’m not. If I cared about my health, I wouldn’t be with Viv.”

Regina laughed. “I’d always assumed you were because you take care of your body. But I guess you could have a different reason for doing that.”

“It’s just something to do.” He shrugged, embarrassed to tell her the truth. He worked out when he was stressed, and because it had become a habit after years of doing it. But he had started because he wanted to be ready to protect Viv. So that no matter how big or tough her Huntsman was, he’d be able to stop him.

Oh, the irony
, his friend Jack Tran would say.

“Sit down,” Regina said. “You don’t have to worry about Viv finding you here. She’ll be gone all night.”

Henley’s eyes burned like someone had blown sand into them. “She went. She went, anyway.”

Before they’d separated after spending the day at Jewel’s, he’d held her close and whispered,
Don’t go
. And she’d hugged him the way she did when she was sorry about something. He’d thought that had meant
okay
.

“You asked her not to?”

He nodded, not sure why he was confiding in Regina. Maybe because his mother would say
Forget her, you can
do better
. His father would shrug and say
This is the way it works
.

Regina would offer a solution. It would be a solution he didn’t like … but at least she would act like there was something he could do.

“And you’re surprised?” she asked. “Or hurt?”

He didn’t answer. He lit a cigarette and busied himself with smoking instead.

Regina reached for the pack he’d left on the table, and drew one out with her bloodred nails. She rolled it between her fingers.

“When I was your age, I thought I was a Snow White princess. I used to long for my prince to come the way a martyr longs for sacrifice. I was willing to suffer for it if I had to. Because I wanted to matter. And a princess always matters—especially if she suffers. That’s not the case for all of us.

“I’m sure you can relate. You wanted to be her hero. You wanted to be something you were never meant to be. Cruel, cruel fate.” She leaned her head on her hands. Smiled like they were in this together. “Do you mind if I get that vodka?”

“No, go ahead.”

She moved through the kitchen like a boat rocking on water, hips swaying like a pendulum.

“The thing about this curse … is that it makes us not matter. We revolve around the princess. We play a role and then send her to her happily ever after. If she lives, I’ll die. The queen always dies unless she wins. And you … your heart will be broken. Viv and her prince will send you a Christmas card every year to be nice:
Here’s how we’re doing. Look how big our kids are getting. Aren’t they cute?
And you’ll wonder,
What the
hell did I do wrong? Why did she pick that idiot over me?
I know because I’ve been there. I get those cards. It sucks.”

Henley closed his eyes and tried to picture the family photo Viv might send him in ten years. Smug prince in a reindeer sweater. Two prissy kids and a golden retriever. Viv sitting off to the side, her face retouched to give her a smile. It seemed impossible that she could be with someone else. Build a life with someone else.

Regina tipped some vodka into a glass. “That’s our fate, Henley. We are
not
the chosen ones. Sure you don’t want any?”

He shook his head, dragged on his cigarette. He was afraid his voice would come out broken if he said anything. Even a simple
I’m okay
would snap in his throat.

“I was always the wrong girl. I’d date a cursed guy, we’d get along great … but there was a princess waiting just around the corner. His perfect match.
Destiny
. And once he found her … I was the mistake. You’re about to be the mistake, Henley. The first love who wasn’t her real love. That’s what she’ll say to her prince, you know. When he asks her about your relationship.
I didn’t know real love until I met you
.”

“Viv wouldn’t say that. Even if—she’d probably tell him it was none of his business.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised what a girl will say. She’s tough with you, but that’s because she doesn’t want to impress you anymore. With her prince, it’ll be different.”

He thought of all the princes Viv had used to make him crazy. What would she be like with her prince?

“A lot can happen in a night,” Regina said. “If you let things go on, if you don’t step in and do something, she won’t even be the girl you remember. You’ll lose her. In every way.”

Pain pierced his temples. “I can’t kill her.”

“Yes, you can. Look at those big hands. That body. You weren’t built for playing the piano, Henley.”

“I don’t want to, then.”

“Of course you do. You want it more than anything, or you wouldn’t be here.”

Henley had only killed once, and that had been an accident. He’d hit a deer with his truck when he was driving with Viv—it had leapt right at them, its love for Viv negating any sense of self-preservation. He’d had just enough time to throw his arm up in front of her in case the deer went through the windshield—but they were lucky, and it didn’t. Viv had insisted on climbing out of the truck, dropping to her knees in the street, and putting her hands on the deer’s chest as if she had some kind of healing power—which she didn’t. Although it had seemed like she calmed it a little, like her presence put the deer at ease as it died.

Afterward, he’d wrapped his arms around her and she’d clung to him with bloody hands, her tiny body wracked by sobs. She was fragile in so many ways, but her emotions were fierce. She’d been devastated, so angry that her curse had done that. And he’d felt like it was his fault, too. Like he should have been able to save it for her.

He wasn’t a killer. And yet, he would have to become one if he wanted to be the one to end this.

His hand shook, and he ground the cigarette out on the table. He didn’t think Regina would care. She was asking him to murder her stepdaughter. A scorch mark was nothing compared to that.