EPILOGUE
BELFAST, IRELAND...EIGHT MONTHS LATER
The Newlywed Delivery Guy
I can’t believe she’s actually gonna let me do it.
Viper didn’t want a big wedding, much to Ruth’s irritation, and as we couldn’t exactly invite the only friends we have…I was totally fine with it. We had a small ceremony in the chapel of Leviticus House. Seemed more than fitting to me. The bride wore black—literally—and she was fucking immaculate. The bride worenothinga little less than two hours later, because I’m an impatientgit, and refused to wait. A part of me sometimes misses being able to use pointy things on human beings…and Viper is stingy with all her toys downstairs in that basement. We also christened every inch of our apartment already, and I reminded her that we didn’t actually fuck in the morgue. We consummated our nuptials on that lovely metal table—aftershe allowed me to satisfy my lingering need for sharp objects by letting me ruin her pretty dress with those rib shears that I always drool over every time I bother her at work.
It’s a fuckin’ great life. Simple and dark, chaotic and raw. Soft in some places, and hard as we can make it in others—especially naked. Happiness isn’t something I found myself ever having again…but I’m grateful for it. And wherever Pops is…I hope he sees it. Some part of me feels him here.
It’s not like we needed to save any money. We have it in spades, but you’d never know it. What wedidsave on the wedding, we used on this trip. We met in Belfast, Maine. Now, I get to call her mywifein Belfast, Ireland. And it’s surreal. We’ve drank, danced, over-ate, and sightseen for three days…and what’s surreal to menow, is that I managed to talk her into my fantasy that she keeps insisting isn’t her fault…but we both know what a liar she can be. She probably looks back on the day she left that book out, as a day she’d go back and change. I’ve dreamed about this moment ever since I dared to open that marked page…and fuck if it isn’t exquisite.
My winning argument, you ask? Twist my arm.
She didn’t work on, or bury a single one of the bodies in this cemetery.
It’s hundreds of years old. Remote. Grown over with moss and greenery. Mostly forgotten about. It’s not raining—yet. Moon is full. My cock is rock solid. My tongue is buried in my—wife’s—incredible pussy, and it only gets better. I’ve got her sitting on top of a crumbling mausoleum, her pale legs splayed wide open and trembling on each side of my face. She’s already bitched about how cold it is out here, but I’ve learned which shiver is which. Told you she’s a liar. She jerked and tried to stop me, gripping my hair while I continued on in my happy place. I’m a man unbending.
“Someone’s out here,” she moaned, trying to keep quiet. “Malek…what’s that fucking noise?” I shoved my fingers inside her and sucked her swollen clit into my mouth.
“Probly the faeries,” I whispered, flicking my tongue and dragging a growl out of her.
“What?!”She’s trying to break focus. I can tell. But nothing’s gonna save her tonight. I’ve waited too long for this. She’s fucking sloshing with every noisy pump of my fingers…and I’m just getting started.“Fuck…”
“That an invitation?” I smiled, rolling my tongue and biting down on her flesh. Seven yelped, and her cunt tightened around my fingers. I went faster.
“Oh, myGod…oh, my—yes…it is…right fucking now.”
“Then stop fucking around, wifey, and come on myface.”
She’s outta breath.Andoutta fight. I pulled my fingers out just as she threw her head back and gave up, squeezing her thighs around my neck while I drank every drop of her. She’ll never admit it, but Viperdoesget off on being told what to do. I raised up, grabbing her throat and slipping my knife outta my pocket. Her lids went heavy as I flicked it open and held the flat of the blade to her chin.
“If you want it, Viper…be a good lass, and take my cock out…” I leaned forward, trailing my wet mouth along her jawline while she scrambled with my belt…and then my jeans. I nipped the pulse spot on her neck, and she whimpered, dragging my pants down my thighs until I felt her cold fingers grip around me. My head pulled back so I could get a good look at the woman that’s ruined me in all the best ways. “Now, tell me to fuck your lights out…”
Her tongue slid up the blade and she curled a smile—the sick one that makes me wanna explode—and she moved her hand up and down my shaft.“Split me open, Dexter.”
“Turn ‘yer arse around and hold it open for me like you did in the hearse. Do it now.” I flicked the knife closed and she did exactly that, bending over the mausoleum and spreading her ass while her bare chest rested on the old stone. I gripped one of her thighs, hoisting it up on top of the flat surface and spit on her tight hole, not giving her a damn bit of warning before I lined myself up with her, and shoved my cock inside her cunt…and my knife handle in her perfect ass. She screamed, and I clapped a hand over her mouth, slamming her hips into the cracked marble as I ruthlessly fucked her. This iseverything. Better than I dreamed of.
I spent seven years thinking I’d always exist in the dark.
Dropped seven people to hollow out the sound of that break in me.
Seven stories had to end just so I could find out how mine began again.
…Seven Grey is the happy ending.
It’s funny how you realize as you get older, that you carry on certain legacies, even if you don’t mean to, or evenwantto. I was always gonna be a half-breed nobody, lower than dirt, because my father fell in love with an American woman. What I never realized until now…is that it was never about the purity of a bloodline. And my Pops had it right all along. It’s the purity of what makes you whole. And I’ll never understand how I ended up being deserving of it. How fucking blessed am I…to lose what I thought I wanted, only to find what Ineededin the dark. How the fuck did I get this fortunate?
…Luck of the Irish, I suppose…
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
So, I’m gonna start by saying that I completely put aside three works in progress just to write this story. It was like Seven and Malek’s wild tale just demanded to be written…right now. I’ve never been more glad that I made the decision to do something like that, nor did I ever think I would. So how did this ridiculous thing become a ridiculous thing? Glad you asked…
I was drinking coffee on a Sunday afternoon, hanging out with the family after a huge lunch, watching John Wick for the 587th time, and all of a sudden—Keanu Reeves pulls out a stack of gold coins and ‘makes a reservation’. Have I seen this a thousand times? Yes. But did this idea hit me like a big yellow school truck? Also, yes. A team of men in black shows up to clean, and I thought…wouldn’t it be so badass if I wrote a female character that’s a one-woman circus and cleans bodies for bad guys? The rest is history. And now you know just how random and perfect inspiration can be. Pay attention when it happens. Listen to it. Embrace it. You never know what kind of magic can come out of it!
That being said…
