It doesn’t matter how hard I’m sleeping, how many people are around, or what kind of rapture is going on within my general proximity. If there’s coffee brewing…I’m there. My eyes opened and I breathed in deep, stretching the sleep out of my muscles and yawning loud enough to wake the dead.
Someone’s making coffee.
I’ll be honest, my mind immediately went to a green-eyed, ginger-headed asshole and while the thought excited me, it also irritated me enough to spring up from the bed and pad into my living room to rain down a shit load of expletives. But thanks to yet another unexpected early rising, I wasn’t really awake enough to dodge the corner of the custom stand that holds my coffin up…and jammed my fucking toe on it. I rained expletives, that’s for sure, just not for the preferred reasons.
“Gaaahhhh, fuckshitmotherfuckerfucking ow, ow, ow, owwwww!”
A spoon clanged off the counter, hitting the floor and I danced around, holding my throbbing foot, looking up to see Bridget—who I completely forgot was here—gawking at me from the coffee maker in the kitchen. We stared in stunned silence for a second…maybe a little longer for her, bless her soul, and then she finally covered her mouth with her hand and started snickering behind it.
“Jesus, are you okay? I’m sorry for laughing.”
I snorted and palmed my knees bending over in humiliation. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m fine. I completely forgot you were in here.” I straightened up, limping over to her and stretching a hand out. “I’m Seven. Bridget, right?”
“Yes,” she giggled, shaking my hand. “Sorry, I saw this, and it saidBlack Death, so I just assumed…” She held up the bag of coffee and glanced around at my gothy apartment…and then at my coffin. “I assumed this is probly how you take yours.”
“You assumed correctly,” I laughed. “I already prefer your company to your brother’s.”
“Eh, he’s not so bad. Not bad atallcompared to some of the other men I’ve met in my young life. You just kind of get used to his stupid ass, and then it’s just weird not having him around.”
Well…she nailed that.
“I’d say that checks out.” I slipped around the bar and sat down at it. “Did he um…I’m assuming he’s told you how we met?” Bridget must have been already looking for mugs. She brought two down and set them next to the coffee maker, turning around to face me. She kept looking at me though, like I was some kind of otherworldly creature. Not like people usually do, but something…I dunno…likelonging?
“He did. For the record, Malek is a crazy son of a bitch, but I did make a generous list of all the ways he’s topped it off this time. I apologize on his behalf. I swear there’s some story about him being dropped as a baby that’s been curiously stashed in file thirteen.”
I laughed, nodding and resting my arms on the island. “Well, at first…I thought about pretending he was just a body and then throwing him in the crematorium alive, but…he’s nothing if not entertaining.”
“Far too nice way of putting it,” she grinned. “But I will say…Mal’s tough as nails on the outside. On the inside, though?Some parts of him might as well be a Twinkie. It’s been a long time since any of us saw those. And between me and you? He hasn’t taken any interest in a lass for about as long.”
Interesting.
For all the effort he’s put into scraping every one of my last nerves and tracking my every move, it almost seems hard to believe. But this is his sister, and it’s painfully obvious how much she loves her big brother. I felt some manner of warmth bloom over my dead insides. It also made me feel oddly protective of her.
“I take it the rest of his unorthodox behavior is genuine?”
She chuckled while she pulled her hair up into a messy bun. It’s almost unfair how effortlessly pretty she is. “Oh, absolutely. He’s a class A nutcase. But you only need to be worried if you’re on my dad’s shitlist. Or Malek’s. He holds a grudge like a crow. If he cares about you, though? Nobody will ever fuck with you. Not as long as he breathes.”
“Fair enough. What about you? I know you’re his sister, but where do you fit into all this?” I can tell she was trying to hide it. Especially when she picked that moment to turn around and start pouring our coffee, but I saw right through it. That was a long-standing pain that flashed in her jade eyes.
“I don’t kill people, if that’s what you mean. All I’m really good for is spending Daddy’s money and fucking my way through life. Kind of blunt, I know…but it’s just the reality. Can’t get far by sugarcoating everything.” I feel even more protective of her now. And sad. This poor girl is so young and has absolutely no self-worth. It actually pisses me off.
“That’s not who you are, though. Who isBridget? What are your likes and dislikes? Favorite color? What junk food can you not live without?” When she set my coffee in front of me, the smile that she had on was genuine and heartfelt.
“Nobody’s ever asked me that before.”
We sipped from the mugs, and—damn, she makes a good pot of coffee. “I’m all ears, pal. Let’s hear it. Do your worst.”
“Well? I love trash TV. I hate rude people. Oddly enough, I love red.”
I nodded. “Color of passion, sex and blood. I like it. Continue.”
“Junk food…hmm. Don’t judge me, but I really like those pointy chips that you stick on the end of your fingers?”
I almost spit out my coffee.“Bugles?!”
“Yes!”
I leapt up from my chair, practically running to my pantry, and grabbed a bag of them, turning to see her mouth in a wide-open smile. “You still put them on your fingers, don’t you?”
