Page 80 of Blood Queen
Her mouth yawns into a grin. “Your mouth,” she breathes.
I groan. “Where?”
She points to her mouth. I press my lips to hers tenderly before deepening the kiss as I pour all my love and gratitude into it. There has never been anyone else for me. I don’t need anything else in this world. Not now, not ever. All I have ever longed for is right here, held close in my embrace.
And as I pull back, my forehead resting against hers, I whisper, “I think Kenzie is perfect.”
She smiles the kind of smile that lights up everything around her, including me. “Good,” she whispers back.
43
Epilogue
Ican’t think of a better word than wild, to be sitting across from Marcy again. To see how she’s aged. To hear her voice.
Her book,The Blood Queenwas a New York Times Bestseller.
I never did bother reading it though.
“If you had to, would you do it all again?” Marcy asks. I look down at Kenzie, and gently play with my napping daughter’s hair. We’re in my living room. She shouldn’t be here but when Kenzie and I were in town eating lunch—there she was, at the same restaurant as us.
A chill had whipped up my spine. Set all my hairs standing on end. If she could find me, who else could? I’d braced myself. Certain panic was about to terrorize me. But she’d been visiting family in the area. What are the chances? And so, when she asked if we could catch up, I’d said sure—off the record of course, because I’m no longer Kid, or Evany.
I’m just Meghan, a quiet, polite, single mom now.
I shrug. Would I? If I could go back, would I change anything? Would it still lead me to where I am right now?
“I loved and I lost, Marcy; what more is there to a life well lived? I try not to dwell on the would haves or could haves.”
She crosses and then uncrosses her legs. The chair she’s sitting in is the most uncomfortable chair in the house, but Truman loved the aesthetic of it. Even now it makes me want to laugh—the absurdity of it.
“Did you and Truman stay together?” She asks, looking around the cabin.
I let out a quiet laugh. “I’m surprised you don’t know. I thought you’d try and keep tabs on us.” Marcy shakes her head sadly.
“Couldn’t have found you if I’d tried. You were ghosts the moment you left my house.”
I sigh and nod my understanding. “We had seven blissful years together.”
“Where is he now?” she asks. “If you can tell me.”
I let out a breath. “He passed away. Two years ago. Cancer.”
Sadness etches itself in the lines of her face. “I’m so sorry. He was much too young”
I shrug, used to the constant state of grief I feel without him. Of the pain that Kenzie only got two short years with him and that besides what I tell her and show her, she probably won’t ever have her own memory of the greatest man I ever knew. Of her father.
“He gave me the greatest gifts in life. Unconditional love and Kenzie.”
Marcy nods slowly, her eyes filled with sympathy. “He was a good man. I could see how much he loved you, even back then.”
I smile softly. “He was the best thing that ever happened to me. If not for him…” I trail off, glancing down at Kenzie again.
“Do you think you would have gotten out?” Marcy asks after a moment. “Of the life, I mean. If Truman hadn’t been there.”
I consider the question. Would I have left the mafia had fate not brought Truman into my life? Given me a glimpse of something pure and good amidst all the violence and darkness? My throat tightens with emotion. I think about those early days with the family after Papa was killed. The wrath burning inside me, scorching my soul. I wanted revenge so badly I could taste it. Would have done anything they asked if it meant avenging Papa.
“Truman was my lifeline,” I say quietly. “He saw the good still left in me when I thought it was all gone. Reminded me I had a choice. But without him…” I trail off, watching Kenzie’s chest rise and fall in sleep for a moment. “The pull was strong back then. Like a riptide dragging me under. I’d like to think so, though,” I say finally. “For Papa’s sake.”
