CONTAINS CONTENT:
Mild language, adult themes and dialogue.
{{Unedited}}
When Marielle woke again, her stomach twisted in knots as it all came flooding back and she buried her face and cried. He was there but had actually fallen asleep in the wee hours of the morning. The moment she began to sob he woke, and drew her back against himself protectively.
“It’s okay,” he breathed, stilling her, and rocking her gently. “I’m with you.” The nightmare seemed to continue for her. “What do you need?” She let out a cry. “Do you need to scream?” He paused. “If you need to scream, do it. If you need to rage, do it. If you need to use me… do it.”
“Use you?”
“However you need to. Do you want someone to hit?”
“That’s-” she worried her lip, “-dangerous, Austin.”
He thought about it for a moment, and realization flickered across his face. “You know what? You’re probably right…” In a moment without thinking, he whirled her under him and lay himself on top of her, gazing down at her. His actions were more protective than sexual, but the act itself made them so close that it ached. “Don’t do that,” he breathed. “But tell me what you need.”
She forced herself to stop crying and closed her eyes. “Can we just- stay in bed all day? What time are your parents going to be home?”
“Later,” he said with a nod as he thumbed her cheek. “They texted last night. I forgot about it; obvious reasons. The Warren’s wanted to take them to a late lunch, then they’ll come back. We won’t see them until four or five at least. We can stay in bed all day,” he assured.
She nodded, thinking and he got off her, and briefly left -don’t worry, I’ll be right back. She used the time to use the restroom and rinse her face, and mouth out. He came back with the ice cream and the syrup and a spoon, sat on the bed with her and began to feed her. “Come on, one bite,” he whispered, pressing it to her lips. She obeyed. “Good girl.” A small, sad smile passed over her mouth. She’d done this exact thing to him when he had been broken beyond repair. “You have to have something in your body,” he reminded. Then he took a bite as well. “And I want you to listen to me,” he explained, his expression becoming more serious. She straightened, making sure to pay attention. “While it’s fine that we do nothing for a while, I won’t allow us to wallow the rest of this trip. It’s not because I’m being cruel, it’s because we have to make your mind move forward. You know this whether you like it or not.” She took a deep breath, understanding. “You didn’t let me do that, I’m not going to let you do it, either. We’re going to crawl back into bed, I’m going to hold you, rest, give you another shared fantasy if you want it, and sometime after lunch, we’re going to get up, I’m going to take you for a nice drive, and we’ll find something to do,” he assured, his mind already coming up with ideas. She nodded distantly, knowing that he was right.
He fed her a few more bites, took a few himself before he rushed it back downstairs and put it into the freezer to save for later.
Then he ran back up the stairs allowing a sort of joy to overcome him and praying that it would come over her as well as he got an idea about where he’d take her later. He pounced and tickled her a little. She fought a wave of sudden joy as she squirmed and he lifted himself up on his hands and looked down at her with a grin. “Don’t think me rude or cavalier… I’m just understanding where I’m going to take you later. It’ll be fun when it’s dark.”
“What?” She asked cocking her head at him.
“Just trust me,” he whispered. “For now, let’s go back to bed. Is that what you need?” he asked. She nodded. “Okay, then I’ll hold you as close as I can. So close that we feel like one person. Is that what you want?”
Her insides tightened with desire, despite her knowledge that all he was asking was to hold her. “Yes.”
He gave her a knowing smile that turned into adoration and lifting his left hand he brushed his fingertips down her face, until he could cup her cheek. She pressed her hand into her face and kept it there. “I love you, Marielle.”
-I know… I love you, too.
His stomach twisted in pain and relief at those words.
She wasn’t going to choose him, and all he could do was try to love her through these moments. He dropped his hand and keeping eye contact, he slowly lowered himself back into bed and stretched his arm out for her to lay there if she wanted. She did, and they stared at one another looking, searching, seeking. Her chest rose and fell in sadness and adoration as she lifted her hand and ran it through his hair. When she did this, she took a moment to think about the fact that she couldn’t remember having ever done this to him at least, not like this. She’d touched his hair before, but this was a far more explorative and intimate touch. It was soft and she remembered what it felt like brushing against her skin when he kissed her and nipped at her awakened flesh. She exhaled all the memories. -Do you want or need that, now?
-Yes. But please just rest with me instead.
He nodded and closed his eyes, she followed. She’d slept dreamlessly and hard, but she was still so exhausted that sleep found her quickly again.
***
What the text said was, “I love you, Masin. I’ve been thinking about you so much. Are you okay?” And Marielle stared at it, phone in hand, wondering how to reply.
She knew that on the other end Vincent could see that she’d read it, but how did she answer this right now?
Shaking, she glanced at the bathroom. The door was still closed, Austin was still showering. She typed I lost our son… and quickly deleted it all, and set the phone aside on Austin’s nightstand, drumming her bottom lip in thought. It was all just too much. How could she ever tell Vincent? He’d never be able to live with himself.
She lay back enjoying the warmth of the covers for one last moment. She wasn’t being asked to force herself to move on, of course, but as Austin had said – and she knew it well – if she didn’t force herself to keep going, she’d get locked in the trauma and continue to crumble… but how much more trauma and horror was she going to made to endure in the next several weeks? Months? Years?
Did being with Vincent mean that all she was ever going to see was trauma? Probably not, he wanted to take her away to somewhere safe and small, where they’d hopefully live out the rest of their lives in peace. Maybe part of her longed for that after the last four months; longed for the peace and tranquility that would come from big open, airy spaces, mountains, and valleys, flowers, and ponds. She sighed… Vincent. Now she was thinking about him, wanting him. She wouldn’t allow Austin to make love to her, but Vincent? Yes. She wanted him to touch her, to make her feel like she wasn’t falling apart. She wanted him to put her back together with his body. There was never a time when she didn’t want him.
She paused. Austin could hear all of this, couldn’t he? He’d become quite still in the shower. -Austin, I think… one of the reasons that I don’t think of Vincent when I’m with you is because when I’m with you, we invade each other’s minds. That doesn’t mean that I don’t think of or want Vincent.
There was silence for a moment, and she heard him move again; the water smacked against the side of the glass door. –We spend a lot of time haunting each other, don’t we?
She made the bed. -Do we have a choice?
He was rinsing his hair out. -Not when we’re so close, proximity wise.
She took the red journal off the shelf and cracked it open.
-It doesn’t mean that I don’t want Vincent… I always want Vincent.
He was silent for a moment, but she could sense his insecurity turning into anger. -Are you stabbing at me for yesterday? What, you think that I don’t know that you enjoy him? She sighed, why had she started this conversation? -I know you do, Marielle, you’ve told me that he’s a good lover before. I can get jealous, too.
-Don’t you think it’s different, Austin? I’m dating him.
-What I think right now probably doesn’t matter. I’ve never been on the Vincent train, and not because he has you. Because he’s not real… I mean, he’s not Chamber. You should have been with Chamber… or me. Vincent doesn’t belong here. He’s a liar, and manipulative, and he has you wrapped around his fingers. I don’t want to hurt him, but I’ve never exactly felt terrible about it, either. If I’m being honest, right now? I’m actually pretty pissed at him because he did this to you! He should have been more careful, Marielle. It doesn’t take much to be careful!
-I think he might have been trying to get me pregnant.
-Why the hell would he have been trying to get you pregnant?
-Because he knows how much I want to be a mother! She shouted back, angrily. “And he didn’t know what would happen!” She added out loud, and she threw the journal without thinking. It went to the floor and she gasped, and dashed after it, picking it up like she’d just thrown a small animal and cradling it to her chest. -I’m sorry.
She hadn’t heard him, but he’d opened the door and was standing in the doorway now. He was in jeans and his upper half was nude. “Are you apologizing to me, or the damned book?” he growled stiffly.
She was in tears, and she fell back against his bed with the journal in her arms. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she was whispering.
He paused before he came to her side and sat on the ground by her. “I forgive you if you mean that for me, and I don’t want to fight with you. I never, ever want to fight with you, Marielle.”
She met sad eyes with his. He looked…delicious. His skin was white and vibrant, his lean muscles were defined by that snake tattoo crawling down his arm, and his hair was wet and messy. Every bit of her wanted to taste him, kiss him, hold him, start removing clothing.
“I’m so sorry,” she cried. “I’m angry and hurt and I don’t know where to put it,” she growled, grabbing at her hair.
He swallowed hard, “put it in me…” he offered shakily.
Her expression dropped and became confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t quite know,” he said with a small, defenseless chuckle. He lifted his hand, offering it to her. She set the journal onto the bed and took it. “Just put it into me,” he squeezed her hand. “Let me have it. I can take a lot.”
She thought for a moment, her green eyes looking glassy and a tad concerned. “Austin, I don’t even know what that would mean,” she said with a nervous laugh.
He sighed and lifted his arms up, asking her to come to him. She hesitated because at this moment he just looked too darn delectable, but after a moment she conceded, going against his chest – which was hot from the shower – and letting him hold her for a moment. “I’m just… so lost,” she whispered, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart, and how it pounded against her cheek.
“How I wish you’d find yourself in me.” He cracked the journal open to a specific piece and read, silently, but sharing it with her in his mind. –You’re in my very DNA. I want to fill you… your mind, your body, your soul… You fill me in ways that I never imagined were possible.
Then you could understand a fraction of the elation and the peace that you give me just by consuming me with your presence. As I stare down into your green eyes, I see the ocean…and it opens the caverns in my very soul.
I’m at a precipice, tottering a fine line between sanity and a need to be insane for you. Caress me… I crave your touch. The feel of your fingertips across my cheek is rapture.
She was still in his arms, and she sighed deliriously. He was so warm, and the feel of his skin was like being wrapped naked in the softest blanket imaginable. He set the journal aside and combed through her short hair. “I want to wrap in that blanket with you, naked, and comfortable, and home…” he responded to her thoughts. After a moment of them being still, he gestured to the bathroom with his head. “Go shower, my parents will be back soon, and we’ll need to get ready to go.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“It’s a surprise. But you’ll love it.”
She obeyed and went to shower, where she stood under the water for a long while and cried and during that time, she desperately wanted Vincent’s arms. She remembered how a few months ago she’d been thinking about the fact that Vincent made her disappear in his big arms. She wanted that now. She wanted to disappear.
-Disappear in me… Austin begged from in the bedroom. She sighed and slid down the wall sobbing into her knees. -I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone.
He went down to the backyard, getting as far back as he could so he could give her the mental space that she needed and chopped some firewood.
When she couldn’t hear him anymore, she let loose, holding nothing back for a good ten minutes. She’d lost a child… something like this had never happened to her before. She couldn’t bear to imagine the look on Vincent’s face when she told him, yet she couldn’t stop trying to imagine it. She kept trying to envision how such a conversation would go. Ultimately, she had no idea, she knew that part of him thought that she was here, blissfully cheating on him with Austin. She knew that in some way, she was. She was flirting with him; he’d held her last night when they slept… But she had put up even stricter boundaries than Vincent had insisted on. He’d said that if she had sex with Austin, he’d leave. Or if she made out with him. He didn’t say that if they kissed, he’d leave, or if they held hands he would. Her heart was so divided and it had been since day one- that first moment that she met Austin, her spirit had called out to him, wanting him even if her mind and body had not clued her into that, yet. Not even four weeks later she knew that she was in love with him, but was ignoring it to be with Vincent. Now, there was no ignoring it. She was in love with him, and they were in danger of drowning in each other.
Yesterday had frightened her… both had had murderous thoughts towards that woman that he’d slept with so many years ago; Sarah. It had gotten her mind rolling in ways that she kept trying to hide from him and… oh gosh… had being so worked up killed her baby? She sobbed again for several long minutes before she convinced herself that that couldn’t have happened. From what she knew stress alone couldn’t cause a miscarriage in most cases.
She stepped from the shower and dried off. There was a world somewhere where Austin and Marielle were killers together, wasn’t there? She wasn’t sure how, but she knew that this was the truth.
After she put her clothes on, she checked her phone. “Okay… well, whatever you’re doing, love, just know that I am thinking of you, dreaming of you, wanting you, and praying that you’re safe. Je t’aimerai pour toujours.”
Marielle broke down again. She didn’t want to ignore him, in fact, it was the furthest thing from her mind. She wanted to text him, call him, run to him. She wanted to be in his arms, and under his strong body. The moments that they fell in love were playing heavily on her mind as she combed through her hair and went to the bedroom again; she lay on the bed and drifted for a few minutes. Austin appeared in the doorway, sadness etching his expression. She knew that he caught some of that even though he’d tried to give her her space. “What do you want?” he asked gently.
“I want to cry,” she said, and she was crying, but silently. The tears were nonstop at this point.
“You are crying, darling. Do you want me to leave you alone?” She nodded. “If I do, I’m giving you like twenty minutes, then you’re coming out with me. I’m not being mean, Marielle, I’m doing for you what you did for me. You have to get out and do something.” She knew that he was right. “Twenty minutes.”
She waved him away and held the pillow close, hating everything. Did she love Austin because of their connection? Was that all it was? An inescapable situation in their minds that caused them to want to be close to one another because it was exciting and raw and completely transparent? She knew when he was thinking of her, and how. He knew the same. It made the entire situation difficult, but still exhilarating and dizzying. She shook her head, no… she loved him because she loved him. She had started to have feelings for him before their connection was apparent and it was because she enjoyed his company, his attention, the fun that they had, their connection only heightened it all, and made it that much more difficult to bear. She did love him. But could she handle this for the rest of their lives?
Marielle tucked her knees into her chest and held them there in the fetal position. She didn’t think she could handle every time they ran into a woman that he had a past with – although admittedly, the chances of that happening were pretty low, on a global scale – but what about the rest of it? When would he finally break and start fantasizing about someone else when she could feel it? When would something else like that happen and could she deal with it appropriately? She shuddered. She knew that people were not always entirely faithful in their minds, but knowing it, and experiencing it were two different things. She knew that Vincent sometimes looked at another woman, but she also knew that those looks were fleeting, instinctual, and that his ultimate desire was for her. Austin’s desire was for her too, but he was more prone to turning his head when tempted the right way… and when his anxiety was high, he was definitely more apt to fall into at least something in his mind that was wild and full of depravity.
Then there was Austin’s past. She desperately wanted to cling to that whole, “I’m not my past, and I can change,” idea. Marielle knew that his past was his past, and part of her wanted to move on with him. But it wasn’t fair to him if she couldn’t do the same. She felt stupid for being jealous, and insecure. Altogether too often, society and the world acted like these things just shouldn’t matter if the person you were with was yours at the end of the day. But it was a little known secret that insecurity and jealousy were still part of the human experience and telling yourself repeatedly that it “didn’t matter” didn’t fix any of this.
She wasn’t stupid, she knew that Vincent had had lovers… she also knew that it wasn’t two thousand of them and that despite the number – which she was certain was far lower than that – that Vincent didn’t struggle with wanting to run off with some other woman, or sneak into a backroom or a seedy part of town for twenty minutes just because they had a fight or a moment of insecurity.
Austin did. Those thoughts were fleeting, and currently, he was always pushing them to the back of his head if they ever became loud enough for her to hear with a clear “no.” But how long before that changed? Or would it get better if she was completely his? Would his fight be tempered if she were in his arms every night, and loving him fully? Then she got scared again. That’s how it started with Tundra, didn’t it? With Marielle’s insecurities and desire not to lose him. She remembered his dream… how horrifying it had been. The look on her face had said, If I just give it to him again, he’ll stop. Then I won’t lose him. But I can’t… I’m so tired. She was never enough for him, even with the pleasure of melding together, he’d always wanted more.
Austin startled her in the doorframe, glaring, his eyes alight with rage. “I am not Tundra,” he growled. “I do not demand this of you, despite my desire for it.”
“When are you going to start?” she peeped.
His eyes darkened and for a moment, he looked truly murderous in his expression. She knew that it wasn’t her that he was hoping to kill, it was something else; maybe himself. Then he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, holding it in, and slowly letting it out. Patches wove himself between his legs, and he bent, and picked him up. “Do you need food, buddy?” he asked, stroking down the back of the cat. Then he turned and took him downstairs, and Marielle heard him cracking open one of his cans and feeding him. He came back to Marielle. “Never,” he answered her. “That nightmare terrified me, and solidified one clear thought.”
“What was that?”
“That if I ever had any inclination to do such a thing to you, I’d rather you be with Vincent.” She took a deep breath in. “You love me, but I think the problem you’re facing is that you can’t trust me, and I guess I can’t help you with that,” he said with a heavy sigh as he put his temple to the doorframe. “I don’t know what I would have to do… how I would have to behave, what I would have to fight…” He stared into nothing for a moment. “How would you like me to die to show you that I’m going to be better for you?”
She flopped back onto the bed again. “I can’t stop thinking about what happened yesterday.”
“I know,” he replied. Her tattoos were bothering her, and she was scratching at her back. “I know,” he said again, coming onto the bed, and inching slowly toward her. “I want to help,” he whispered.
“I don’t like how it made me feel.”
He paused, but bridged over her looking down into her green eyes. “It made you want to kill her,” he said for her. Then he stretched his hand to her and helped sit her up. When she did, he made a whirl motion with his finger and she turned, and he gently pounded on her upper back where the niggling and tingling was.
She nodded. “Why? Why did I feel that way?” He didn’t have an answer for her, and any answer he could come up with was one that she wouldn’t like. “Then how the night ended it just…”
“You’re not a murderer,” he whispered, and his lips were just barely brushing her ear. He refrained from a kiss, or pushing it. “And if there was anything good about running into a second Austin the other night it was this; Tundra was an anomaly. I’m not him, and there exist other worlds where I’m even better.” He let a moment go by before he said, “Let’s go,” and he offered her his hands and helped her up. “Let’s try to have fun.”
***
Vincent was staring at his phone. She read it. She knew… and she was ignoring it. She was going to break his heart, wasn’t she?
He looked back at Chamber, who was at his bed, slipping a new shirt on, and buttoning it down. The other one had been spattered with blood.
They’d gone to the lookout point, snuck into an abandoned area, and waited patiently from two different vantage points.
When the time came, and the target was in sight, Vincent had lifted Tour De Force, only to get slammed in the side of the head with a memory.
***
“You have a problem,” Chamber said clamping his hand on Vincent’s left shoulder. Vincent turned to look at his mirror image. “I’m sure you’ve done the math…”
Vincent leaned back and nodded distantly as he lifted both hands to wipe his face clean of any expression. He hadn’t looked in on Marielle in a few days, now and he was lining all his chess pieces up for his entrance into Valorant. He’d even figured out when; there was a party happening at the end of the week that a few of the higher ups were attending as were much of the office building staff. He’d go to it and cause a scene. He wasn’t too sure what, yet. Just something that would get him caught and taken into custody until they figured out that what they needed to do was call Marielle.
But now he knew that Chamber’s words were true. The one wrench that was always screwing up his plan… Austin. He was silent for a few moments before he said, “he’s coming whether I like it or not.”
Chamber took his tie off, wound it around his fingers and set it aside. “I could try to get him to tail me, instead? Take off for Amsterdam, or…”
“No. That’ll just cause everyone to suspect things, and I need you.” Vincent said with a sigh. He bit the end of his glasses, deep in thought before he shook his head defeatedly. “Let him come.”
“Are you sure?” Chamber sat across from him, leaning over his knees and looking his clone straight in the eye. “You know that for a while, they’re going to think that you’re me. Which will actually bring Austin there.”
Vincent stroked his chin for a moment, sadly. “Let him come.”
“That sounds like defeat.”
“She’s in love with him in every other dimension. Do I have a choice?” He flicked his eyes to Chamber who stood and staggered away from their conversation to the minibar. “She has to choose if it’s to mean anything. I’ve already gone through too much.”
Chamber was pouring a glass of whiskey, then he threw it back in one large swallow. “I’ve asked you before about fate.”
Vincent looked back to the laptop that he was crunching numbers on. “I’m going to change it.”
Chamber paused, and came in front of the arm chair that Vincent sat in before he sighed, put his hands on the arm rest and leaned in towards himself a little. “I’m not sure that you can.” Vincent paused, but avoided eye contact with him. “She might fall in love with him here, too.”
“Let her.”
Chamber narrowed his eyes at him. “Do you want her to?”
“I want her to choose me because she really wants me.” He cleared his throat, “and I’ll use Austin like I’ll use everyone else.” He typed something in a spreadsheet for a moment. Then adjusted his glasses. “I’ll show her what he really is… He might already be there.”
“What if he… starts doing things that are-”
“-Evil?”
“Evil is one way of putting it, but… murderous? Harmful?”
Vincent lightly cleared his throat and took the crystal glass away from Chamber, throwing what was left of the shot back. “I’ll kill him.”
“She might never forgive you.”
“I know. There’s nothing that I can do, now. Like I said. He might already be there.”
Chamber stroked his bottom lip for a moment. “If you’re going to be locked up for a while, how will you know?”
“When I see her…” Vincent fell silent for a moment, stroking his chin as he glanced over at the stack of money that he was about to put in an envelope and take to the bench outside a little French café. “I’ll ask her.”
***
When he came out of the memory, Chamber was shouting into his earpiece in French and Vincent looked up to see a man that he didn’t recognize shoving the barrel of a gun into his face and shouting down at him in Arabic. There were two others on his tail. Chamber wasn’t close, but Vincent knew what he was going to do and prayed that Chamber would follow suit.
The man pressing the cold tip of his barrel into Vincent’s temple was obviously ordering him to stand.
Vincent internally cursed himself for mentally drifting, but after the man used the side of the pistol that he was holding to slam into the side of Vincent’s head – causing Tour De Force to recede – Vincent sat back up, wincing. He waited a beat before acting like he was going to get up, then simultaneously grabbing the bodyguard’s gun and slamming his palm up into the guy’s face, knocking him back. The pistol went skittering away across the floor.
Vincent ducked and rolled, knowing that the other two were going to start firing, and when he was behind part of the wall, and bullets were zipping past his head, he pulled Headhunter. Before the men could even come into view, Vincent had popped out, taken aim, fired, and taken both down. “Crétins.” Vincent growled before cracking his neck and turning to the street that he’d been watching where he was perched. Khaled Al Zaheri was being dragged from his black SUV into his multimillion-dollar mansion by bodyguards who had obviously sounded the alarm; there was someone here to kill him.
“Mon Dieu! What happened!”
“Ils m’ont trouvé. I had to take care of it,” Vincent growled back.
“We’re going to have to get in there,” Chamber hissed, and Vincent could see him jumping over the fence in the near distance, using a tree as cover, taking aim, and firing. One of the guards was down.
Vincent came down from his perch, a tower shed just off the outer wall of the compound.
Chamber was already rushing the mansion when Vincent barreled over the fence and darted in after him, noting the hailstorm of bullets being fired. A standoff had obviously taken place. “Are you good?”
“I’m fine,” Chamber replied tightly. “Hang back, and take the shot. They’re taking him out into the courtyard to get to the back of the mansion!”
Vincent obeyed and the moment that he saw Khaled’s head and knew the shot could be taken, he pulled Tour De Force, aimed, and fired. The man went down, all attention was drawn to him, Chamber tumbled out of the house, bleeding. Both men snapped, and vanished, appearing outside the walls, the job was done, and they drove away so quickly that even the men who tried to pursue couldn’t. They couldn’t go through walls, after all, and had to run around to the front again.
“That was close,” Chamber said, lifting his arm to survey his wound.
Vincent eyed Chamber’s left arm – a bullet below the elbow… just like him – and arched an eyebrow.
Chamber tore his shirt, using it as a tourniquet and tied the wound off. Vincent lifted a brow at him. “What? The shirt was ruined.”
Chamber plopped in a chair back at their hotel. They’d casually walked in, hiding Chamber’s arm under a folded jacket until they got back to the room, rolled up one of his ties and bit down on it hard while Vincent doused the whole thing in whiskey. The tie was mostly to muffle the sound because Chamber definitely cried out.
Vincent sat and using a first aid kit, he flashed a look to Chamber who nodded, and proceeded to fish the bullet out after allowing Chamber to take several large swigs of the alcohol. Then he sewed him up as best he could.
“We match,” Chamber eventually said, and he went to the bed and crashed with a loud exhale before popping about five painkillers. Vincent eyed him while he was putting everything away. “Don’t worry, I won’t die.”
Vincent gestured to his arm with his head as he latched the first aid kit. “We’ll have to watch that for infection.”
“We should get out of here,” Chamber replied.
Vincent sighed, heavily. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Chamber shrugged; face buried in the pillow. “I’ve seen worse.”
Vincent went to bathroom, dipping his hands under hot running water to wash the blood – his blood – down the drain. He wasn’t in it… it was a strange thought. He watched it thin and swirl down the black hole before he dried, and went back into the room, where he stood at the window. There was no commotion. “Rest for a bit. I’ll keep watch.”
Silence past between them for a few minutes as the painkillers kicked in. Chamber turned to look at Vincent, but remained smashed in the pillow. “You’re afraid that she’s choosing Austin.”
“Isn’t she?” Vincent scoffed.
“Probably. She’s always chosen Austin.”
Vincent shot daggers at Chamber with his gaze. “You know, you’re weak, and delirious… I could break you.”
Chamber chuckled, sat up and shook his head. “I’m not as delirious as you might think, brother.” A pregnant pause. “But I’ll say this much… it might just be that it’s time to say goodbye.”
“She didn’t reply to me.”
“I know.” Chamber rested the back of his head against the wall. “Vincent, the only time that Marielle chooses one of us is when Austin isn’t an option… she can’t help it, he’s in her head.”
“Because she put him there,” Vincent replied, tightly.
“She doesn’t understand how it works, Vincent.”
Vincent sighed and watched a car that pulled up quickly, preparing to tell them to move. But a hot head got out and tossed his keys to the valet. Vincent lifted the hand that had experienced her slightly pushing into him a few nights prior. “Why him and not me?”
“Fate, again.”
Vincent’s eyes grew dark. “No… why him?”
He shrugged, and winced that just that little movement caused pain to shoot up his arm. “I don’t have an answer that you’re going to like.” He used his right arm to push himself up a little more, found the bottle, and guzzled some more whiskey. “He’s always been entirely honest with her… he opens something up in her that neither you nor I can do,” Chamber said distantly.
“Yeah, because he’s a damned super model.”
“This isn’t about looks, Vincent,” Chamber sighed. “Austin is easy to love… Hell, I love him, now.”
Vincent’s expression became sadly distant. “I love him, too.”
Chamber looked back to Vincent. “Obviously she’s attracted to him and obviously he’s attractive, but again… he’s always been open, vulnerable and honest with her.”
Vincent’s shoulders fell. “I’m trying so hard to be more honest with her.”
“You weren’t even honest with her in your own dimension.”
There was a thoughtful pause. “No, I wasn’t.”
“That’s part of it. She loves you, but she feels that she can be completely open with him, completely herself, because even if he hurts her, she can trust him to do it… does that make sense?”
Vincent rolled his eyes. “I suppose.”
“Marielle likes honestly, and vulnerability, Vincent.” He shook his head and took another swig. “No, scratch that. She prizes it. She doesn’t even care so much that you hurt her, she wants you to be honest about it, because honesty means openness and openness means oneness.”
Vincent nodded, and stroked his chin. “I don’t think it matters anymore. I’m fairly certain that she’s slept with Austin.”
“Is that a deal breaker?”
“Wouldn’t it be for you?”
Chamber threw the bottle back, and thought. “I’m not certain. You guys never agreed to be exclusive. It would be a deal breaker if you agreed to be only each other’s, or you were married. But right now? I don’t know.”
Vincent remained quiet and watched as Chamber settled back down and fell asleep.