Read Dust to Dust Page 19


  He wasn’t like us and he never would be.

  I suppose there had to be one clinically sane person in my family.

  So that was that. I was certain my father was going to call the cops on us anyway, because that was his duty as a citizen of this country, but my mother was sweet-talking him and he seemed to at least calm down a bit.

  He and my mother left, while Ada hovered anxiously near the door, flapping her arms from time to time like a nervous bird.

  “Is that what really happened?” she asked us, her large eyes pleading for the truth and fearing it at the same time.

  “What happened with you?” I said, throwing it back to her, to something safer.

  “Mom and I ran. I don’t know where we went, we weren’t even thinking. We ended up by Central Park and finally I had the smarts to think about trying my phone. We called Dad. He was livid. We had been gone all day. It was like, hours passed inside there, not minutes.”

  “And what did you tell him?” I asked.

  “I barely got a chance to say anything,” Ada said, hugging herself. “Mom told him we needed his help but when he wanted her to explain, she wouldn’t. Well, actually she tried. I believe she said the house was pure evil but that’s when he totally shut her down.” She gave me a curious look. “Mom knows, Perry. She knows.”

  Yes she does. No thanks to me and my pill-switching. I was going to have to come clean about that.

  Suddenly she sucked in her breath and her jaw started to tremble. “Is he really gone?”

  Dex looked at me and together we shared an image of him lying, gored and motionless on the floors of hell. He nodded, swallowing. “Yes. He’s gone.”

  Her face crumpled for a moment and I was about to get up and go to her but she shot her arms straight out to the sides, like she was going to take flight and announced. “I’m okay. I’m okay.” She blinked, gasping for breath, and then stilled. “You couldn’t have gone back for him?”

  I gave her a weak smile. “I thought about it. But the only reason why I could get Dex was because he’s, well, you know. Special. Like I am. Like you are. Even more so. And his body, his physical body, it can handle things that most people can’t. He could handle the return. Maximus…he wouldn’t have, even if he could cross over. I wish I could have though. I know he went to Hell for someone once. It would have been nice to return the favor.”

  She came over and sat down on the corner of the bed, running her hands over the pink and white embroidered quilt.

  “What was dying like?” she asked quietly, as if she were ashamed to ask, afraid that Dex would get mad.

  But he didn’t. He gave her a soft, lopsided grin. “At first, it sucks. But I don’t think that’s death itself. That’s just dying. That’s knowing this is the end. Being scared. Being in pain. Being afraid to leave. That sucks balls.” He paused and took in a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling. “But death, when it takes over, when you are gone…it’s not so bad. Think about staring into a summer sun, sliding down toward sunset. It’s blinding and it’s gold and you can’t look away. It’s a warm place.”

  “Did you see God?”

  He let out a little laugh, something I didn’t think either of us were capable of.

  “God? No. I didn’t see God, Little Fifteen. But if it makes sense to you, I know God saw me.” He looked down at his hands and nodded to himself. “Maximus is in a good place. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean we are. The ones who are left behind.”

  After that, Ada left. I could tell she wanted to stay with us, that she didn’t want to go to a room with her parents. But I she didn’t have the courage to ask and I didn’t have the heart to ask her to stay.

  I needed to be alone with Dex more than anything else in the world.

  Once the door closed behind her, I got up and flipped the privacy lock on. I turned, leaning against the door, and stared at him

  I just stared at him. I needed to take him in, here, alive and sharing the same air as me.

  Memories of his loss tried to crawl up my throat, tearing away my happiness. I wouldn’t let it. He was here now and that’s all that had to matter.

  He stared right back at me and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him more handsome. I probably shouldn’t have. He hadn’t shaved for days, there were circles under his eyes, he was pale as a ghost. He looked like a man who had died and come back, to put it that way.

  But he was Dex Foray through and through and life looked good on him. He was practically shining with it.

  “While you’re standing there, staring at me,” he said, “let me assure you that I’m alive.”

  “I know,” I said, my voice soft, as if I would shatter this all if I spoke too loud. “I just need to look at you.”

  “Then keep looking, kiddo,” he said. My heart may have melted like a pat of butter on hot bread. “Because I’m looking at you. I don’t think I could ever stop.”

  But then he abruptly turned his head and his gaze went out the window. He looked troubled. I couldn’t blame him but there was something about it that got my guts in a knot.

  “Before things go any further,” he said, his words careful, “there is something I need to talk to you about.”

  I stuck out my lower lip in thought. What was there to talk about? But it didn’t really matter. When faced with death, it seemed like nothing else could ever matter than having that person back. Everything else seemed trivial.

  “I assure you, it’s not trivial,” he said, immediately chagrined. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hear that. But I did. It’s important, Perry. It’s something I should have told you a long time ago.”

  Suddenly, I didn’t want to hear it, whatever it was. I crossed my arms, wishing he would shut up, wishing I could go back to just soaking in his company. “If you should have told me a long time ago, maybe it’s best to just forget it.”

  “I can’t,” he said. “I don’t want any secrets between us, not anymore. Not after that. Life is too fucking short, you know it.”

  Secrets? God, now he had my attention in the worst way. That knot in my gut tightened. I had no idea at all about what he was going to say but whatever it was, it was going to throw me for a loop.

  “Please, Dex,” I said. “Not now.”

  He finally turned his head to look at me. “I’m sorry. It will have to come up soon, before we are married. It’s only fair.”

  “Then tell me in a few weeks,” I pleaded. “You just died. You were just in Hell. I was too. Maximus is fucking dead. It can wait.”

  For a moment I thought he was going to relent. But would it have been so easy for me to just ignore it, to go on knowing there was something he was keeping from me? It would sneak back. It would make me second guess everything.

  He didn’t relent. “I’m just going to come out and say it. And fuck, I wish that big Ginger was here because I am sure he could explain it better than me. But, back when we were in New Orleans and I found out all about Maximus and what he had been to me…I was given something else to grapple with. And the truth is, I’m still grappling with it, because I don’t know what it means.”

  I raised brow, feeling shaky. “Okay. Then what is it?”

  He patted the space beside me. “Sit down.” Then he held out his hand. “No, stay there. You can do less damage from far away. I don’t trust your knee anywhere near my nuts anymore.”

  If the whole situation hadn’t been so ludicrously important, terrible and sad, I would have laughed. As it was, I didn’t. “Dex, what the hell is it? This isn’t funny.”

  He sighed. “No, it’s not.” He rubbed at his forehead vigorously and said, “When I was in NOLA, Maximus and the fucking Mambo told me that you and I were doomed to be together.”

  I coughed, trying to speak and laugh at the same time. “Excuse me? Doomed?”

  Of course, that made perfect sense considering the last twenty-four hours.

  “Doomed,” he repeated. “But especially so if you were to ever get pregnant.”

 
; Oh. Oh.

  “What? What does that even mean?” I slowly stepped toward him.

  He looked up at me, kneading his legs with his palms. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I don’t even know if they know. They just said – well, Mambo Maryse said – that because I am the way I am and you are the way you are, that a baby could be a problem. It kind of was before.”

  “Dex,” I said sternly, “I had a miscarriage. The baby never became anything. That, that demon, took advantage of me because of my physical and emotional state, that’s all.”

  He raised a brow. “Is that all? Even a miscarriage is horrible, Perry.”

  “You don’t have to fucking tell me that,” I snapped. I exhaled noisily, trying to calm down. “Sorry. I just…I don’t care what people say.”

  He held my eyes. “They said it could bring harm to us or to others.”

  I shrugged. “Nope. No. Don’t care, Dex. I really don’t care. Is this something that you want? Do you want to have a child? Not right now, but at some point?”

  He smiled and it lit up his whole face. “Of course I do. Baby, I want that more than anything.”

  “Then who cares what people say,” I said. I sat down beside him and grabbed onto his jittery hands. “Who cares what they think could happen. I’m not going to through all of that, my dreams, my future life, and throw it away because of theories and speculations.”

  He kissed my shoulder and closed his eyes. “But what if it’s true?”

  “If it’s true,” I said, brushing his hair off his forehead, “and we have a child burdened with our so-called gifts, or we have the anti-Christ, then we’ll deal with it. But only when it comes. Life is so fucking precious Dex, we know this better than anyone now. We shouldn’t throw it away on hearsay.”

  He looked up at me, strain coloring his face. “But what if it hurts you? What if you’re the one who suffers? What if I lose you?”

  “After all we’ve been through,” I said, kissing him lightly on the cheek, “you should know that I will fight to stay with you, no matter. Losing me will not be easy. Like it or not.”

  “You’re not angry at me?” he asked. “For keeping it a secret, for not telling you?”

  “Oh, I’m angry,” I told him. “But this is getting suppressed for now. I’m sure it will come out sometime after we are married.”

  “Typical Perry,” he commented with a shake of his. Then he grinned and cupped my face in his hands. “And that’s why I love you.”

  Then he kissed me like he was a dying man all over again, gasping for the breath I held within me. Only I felt like I was dying too. His lips revitalized me. His touch kept me whole, kept me together. He let his fingers sink into my hair, stroking down the back of my head, holding onto the back of my neck. I loved it when he did that. Strong and meaningful, like he meant to protect me more than possess me. Like I was his but like he was mine and we would keep each other safe. I knew, deep in every part of me, how literal that was. We really would do anything for each other.

  His lips trailed down my neck and we lay back in the bed while he stroked me lightly with his fingers, my legs parting, wanting him, needing him. But there was too much distance. I needed to have all of him in me.

  I sat up and, with one hand on his chest, held him down as I straddled him. I was already wet and throbbing and ready as I lifted up enough to guide him inside me. I slowly rocked back and forth, building up hotter, faster and made sure I rode him until he couldn’t hold back anymore. I bit at his neck and earlobes and licked his chest and when he asked me to bite harder, to make sure he was still alive, I did just that.

  He sat up so that our legs were wrapped around each other, one arm around my waist, holding me to him. He brought his thumb to my clit and started rubbing me while I swiveled up and down on his cock, getting him in deeper and deeper.

  I stared deep in his eyes as they changed from bright and manic to lustful and glazed. We never broke contact. We couldn’t look away from each other until we came and my thunderous orgasm made my eyes roll back. He filled me up, and I was overcome with his cries, feeling everything pulse inside me. I was whimpering, awash in my emotions that seemed to gush from my heart and then the whimpering turned into shaking and I couldn’t hold myself up anymore. I couldn’t do anything but feel love.

  So much love.

  ***

  I dreamed again that Dex had died. But when I woke up, covered in sweat, I rolled over and grabbed onto his arm. He was alive. He murmured to me in his sleep, words that didn’t make sense, as usual. In the faint light from the streets, I could see him smile too, as if he was trying to soothe me.

  It worked. I nestled into the crook of his arm and the dream never came back.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Dex

  When I first saw the gangly douchefucker, I was in university, leaving my editing class and he was being one nosey son of a bitch. He knew who I was, somehow, and he was eager to join my bad Sin Sing Sinatra as a bassist. I guess I must have been incredibly stupid to not see how odd it was that Maximus just showed up in my life like that, but, I had also been very good at the art of denial.

  I was also good at the art of keeping people away from me. No one could get close, especially not giant gingers. But somehow, that guy, he got in. He became important in every aspect of my life. Looking back, I can see it was a ruse. At least, it started out that way. But somewhere along the line, Maximus stopped being a guide and started being a friend. I don’t even think he got to give me guidance in any way except for what chicks to bang and what beer to drink.

  And, until I banged his chick, that was the way it was for us. We were friends. Close friends. Maybe not so close that I would confide in him and tell him that I saw ghosts and that he would confide in me and pretty much tell me he was a ghost. But other than that, we were close. He was the closest person to me.

  When I lost him, when I was put away in the mental institute, it was bad. But I recovered. I had my own self to fix and I had faith that he was getting on with his life somewhere. Well, actually, I hated him at that point and wished him a bad case of dick rot. How dare he desert me during my time of need?

  Now, I can see that why he did it. We were both to blame. Maximus let his pettiness and jealousy get the better of him and I fucked him over, breaking our hard-earned bro code like it was police tape. Which, was something I also liked to break a lot of at the time.

  But now, now things were different. When Maximus came back into my life, sitting at that bar in Red Fox, he threw a wrench into the carefully orchestrated play I was holding. He was like Dorothy, pulling back that damn curtain and showing the world the man behind the show. I wanted Perry to keep thinking I was the all-powerful Oz. I didn’t want someone from my past to come along and show her that I was nothing like who I was pretending to be.

  That’s what he did, though. On purpose, I’m sure, and also there are just some parts of you that are really fucking hard to hide. Perry eventually saw the real me. And she fell in love with the real me. And if it wasn’t for Maximus exposing me for what I was, who I was, who knows if that would have happened.

  There was a lot of wrong that Maximus did but in the end, I can’t fault him. For all of his shortcomings, he was never malicious. He was just an ex-immortal, struggling with the rest of us with what it meant to be human.

  Now, Maximus was dead. Dead forever, dead for good, dead in the ways that the old him could never even imagine. And though we’d never really grown that close again, though I’d come up with a million nicknames for his freckled ass and he’d done some shit that had royally pissed me off, losing him hurt.

  More than that, it shocked me. I’d seen enough death in my day but it never got easier. Maximus gave up his life so that Perry could get me back. In the end, he was a guardian. I just wished I had a chance to thank him for it.

  But that’s why we were standing along the East River, staring at the murky water as it slowly moved past. This was our chance to say good bye.


  I looked down the row of us, at Perry, holding my hand beside me, the wind making her hair move like a black silk flag, at Ada beside her, all bleached blonde innocence gone wrong, at their mother, who was standing so straight and strong, it was hard to believe she had gone through what she had with us, and of course her father, balding and portly, wearing a scowl on his face that said he’d rather be elsewhere and thought we were all still tripping on acid.

  He could believe what he wanted. It made no difference to me.

  Perry looked up at me. “Do you want to start it off?” she asked. She was holding a handful of yellow roses we purchased from a street side vendor. Roses, for Rose. That was a phone call we didn’t want to make but Perry had the balls to do it that morning. Somehow she tracked her down by calling the bar she owned in New Orleans. The moment I heard Rose bawling over the speaker, I had to leave the room. I couldn’t deal with the pain again.

  I nodded and cleared my throat. Unlike everything I was just thinking, I was going to keep this short. Maximus would have probably appreciated it and it would definitely prevent me from crying again.

  “Maximus was a man of many faces,” I said, feeling both honest and self-conscious. “Most of them aggravatingly handsome.” I noticed Perry’s dad looking at me oddly and I shrugged. “It was annoying, actually, having his mug around me all the time. He could make me look bad just by showing up. He was always just so…much better than me. Better than everyone. And he didn’t even try. He just was. He was strong, he was funny in his backward southern way, he was smart, again in his backward southern way.”

  “Is this a funeral or a roast?” Daniel asked, as if he cared.

  I ignored him. “I can laugh about all of that, because it was true and that’s the way he was to me. We made fun of each other constantly, because we could. He was a good man, you know. For all the shit we gave each other, he was loyal. Even when he wasn’t, he still was. And he’d watch out for you. He cared. That was probably the thing that bugged me the most and that’s what stands out when I think about Ginger Balls.”