I can’t relate. The only place that has ever called to me is the confines of my apartment. I’d locked myself away in there for so long that I stopped hearing the sounds of the universe long ago.
I pull my sleeve back down and hug my chest. “Or we could take the medicine. And go back. Live a safe life. A happy life. A life together. With you. Me. Our families. Imagine it, the things we could have together. A house, a fence, two point four children.”
“And if the same thing that happens to us also happens to our kids?” he asks, brow raised. “What then?”
I blink quickly. The tears are streaming from my eyes now, and I don’t even know why. “Then we’ll give them the drugs too, I guess. Mack, I don’t know! Don’t say stuff like that.”
Because it’s one thing to drug myself up for my own physical changes. It’s one thing to stuff and maim and cut off my own true self.
But would I do it to my own children?
Would I betray them like that? The way my mother has always betrayed me?
Would I betray Mack like that?
Mack grabs my forearm, and at first, I recoil, but then I let him pull me back against his hard chest. He presses my head against his heart, the methodical beats pumping against my ear. “I guess we’re at a stalemate.”
Chapter 27
Stalemate. Nowhere to go. Nothing to prove.
I spend the next thirty hours at Mack’s. We climb down the ladder, order pizza, collect it, climb back up the ladder, and lie in the middle of the greenery off the side of the pool, under the sun or stars or moonlight. Together, just the two of us.
We don’t talk about what’s to come, but there’s a tacit and silent understanding that the end is near for us.
We act like there is no black hole of inevitability chasing at our heels. Or rather that we’re chasing. One of us, at least.
Like there’s nothing weird or different about our relationship than with anyone else.
Not while we’re hidden in the green grass and the sunflowers and the stars.
But, of course, we both know that there is.
“I’d understand,” he says, our bodies side by side, flat against the soft blades of grass, the clouds floating lazily above like disconnected gods from another realm. “Of course I’d understand.”
“Understand what?”
“If you took the medicine. You’re not nearly as far along as I am. I don’t even remember what it’s like to be a human anymore, I’ve been changed for so long, so indefinitely. I don’t remember the man costume I used to roam around in. But you . . .” He lets his hand touch my belly, turning to his side. “Maybe you’re different.”
The tears from earlier continue to plague me. I sniff loudly as they slink down the outward corner of my eye into the hairline by my ears. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. Let’s just lie here instead.”
And I think I would’ve stayed forever, except that now I have a crab at home to feed. So, I stand to leave, telling Mack I’ll return soon.
By the time I hightail it back to my building, my eyes are puffy and heavy. My body is drained like a dried-out fish. And I feel like I’ve tumbled from a mountain, falling rock by rock, all the way to the deepest depths of the sea.
I’m drowning in this shit.
And then it gets worse.
Ah fuck.
Jason.
He’s dressed in uniform, so that means he has his badge and gun and baton and his dumb little matching shirt and pants. God, I hate him.
But he’s standing right in front of my apartment door. A barrier as usual.
Also, he’s looking at me with an expression that makes no sense. A scowl? But why?
“You haven’t come home in two goddamn days,” he says to me as I approach. He’s breathing heavily, nostrils flared. The base of his palm is cuffing the grip of his holstered gun.
“What?” I dig into my bag, fishing around for my key. I clutch it hard when I find it. “How do you know I haven’t been home?”
“Because I-I know stuff like that. I’m a police officer. Trained to notice the comings and goings of those around me.”
“Kay,” I mumble.
I halt in place, just waiting for him to move, but he keeps talking, his hand still on the grip of his weapon.
“A pretty woman like you isn’t safe around here. Haven’t you seen the protests going on around downtown?” Then he pushes out some air. “People are pissed. They’re heading to our neighborhood soon, and I’ll be joining for reinforcements.”
“What are you talking about?”
Jason scratches the side of his mouth with his index finger, his gaze narrowing. “There are monsters out there. Fish monsters. And we’re on a mission to get rid of ’em.”
The blood drains from my face. Fuck. I stiffen to maintain my composure; my eyes are puffy as is, my skin dry and tired. I don’t even know how I’m staying on my feet.
When I don’t respond, Jason sniffs loudly. “You should let me protect you, I wouldn’t want to see anything happen to an innocent girl like yourself. I think you owe me at least that much.”
