Page 68 of Pretty Pink Poison

“What if I want to have more masked men in the future?”

“I think that’s done for the time being.”

“Is Rafe sleeping around?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Who cares if he is?”

“Well, if he is, I’m going to be also,” I informed him. “Because I’m not staying in here like you want me to for another fouryears, Bane. I refuse. Bianca may have, but Pink won’t. I hate sitting here in silence acting like a good little girl. So, if you don’t want to fuck me or give me the time of day, let someone else.”

“If I say no?”

He stared at me for probably a whole minute before I grabbed my phone and typed out a message to Rafe.

Me: I’m getting a job and sleeping with whoever I want for the next four years. Guessing you’re doing the same.

Rafe: Be discreet.

Bane: I’m not dealing with this.

Me: Then don’t. I’m fine within the Black resorts, right, Rafe?

He sent laughing emojis and a thumbs-up.

Rafe: Ask Bane about the Vault then.

I wasn’t sure what the laughing ones were for, but Bane was not in any way, shape, or form finding the joke in this.

“What’s the Vault?” I asked.

He got up to pace three times back and forth before he said, “Are you purposely trying to make my life hell?”

“Are you doing that to yourself? Let me go and live. Rafe basically just told you to.” I waited another second. “What’s the Vault?”

“Not something I use or you should use. Rafe doesn’t know how reckless you are.”

“Really? Does he know what happened with me…” I shifted uncomfortably.

Bane waited, like he wanted me to say it, like he intended to make me. “You going to dance around it forever?”

“What do you want me to say, Bane?”

“That you tried to fucking leave me!”

“I tried to leave the world!” I threw up my hands. “And you didn’t let me.”

“Nor will I ever. You don’t get to leave this world without me, Pink. I’ll drag you fucking back every single time.”

“Fine.” I huffed, it was dark and poetic and wrong that we were arguing about my suicide attempt, but that was the thing about Bane and me. We were almost normal when it came to our dysfunction. “Then, expect Pink rather than Bianca from here on out.”

“God damn it. What is that supposed to mean?”

I walked over to my minibar. There were still a few pieces of clothing there and I started ripping them from the hangers and I poured the liquor on them before going to look for more matches.

“You’ll set off the smoke alarms again,” he said, but he sat down and pulled a Zippo lighter from his pocket. “Not embarrassed?” he asked me without getting up.

I swiped the lighter from him. Maybe he didn’t think I have it in me? Fine.

I flicked the Zippo open and threw it on the clothing. Of course it went up in flames, and it was only about ten seconds later the alarms started… again.