Page 22 of White Raven (Nevermore Duet #2)

COPING MECHANISMS

The weather outside…was not frightful. And the snow was too delightful.

Harsh sunlight lit up Boston like heaven’s gates against the blanket of white that nestled over it.

Wren squinted against the dull pain in her healing eye—now fully open and lightly bruised—and sipped her lukewarm coffee as she jerked the blackout curtains shut.

“Gross,” she grumbled, downing the last of her caffeine.

How dare the day be so fucking beautiful?

How dare the world move on after Brent’s mother was laid to rest?

After the heinous things that were done to all of them still left their marks on their skin…

their souls? Wren scraped dried acrylic paint off of her wrist with a black fingernail…

the polish mostly chipped away, and looking much like her current state.

Heavy industrial metal played on a Bluetooth speaker in the breakfast nook, and she palmed both hands on her mug while she looked at the canvas on her easel.

Denver coiled around her legs as if he were desperate for—whatever he could possibly want—and she studied her recently finished masterpiece.

“What in the name of—”

“Blaaagghhh!” Wren wailed, nearly pissing herself when she turned around to find Sarah behind her.

Her mug flew into the air, and it was almost unsettling to see Sarah’s inhuman reflexes catch it before it hit the ground.

Wren grasped at her pounding chest. “Bitch, what the hell is wrong with you?!” Her fist struck Sarah in her upper arm.

Sarah cackled, reaching into the nook to turn the music down.

“I’m sorry! I knocked! You probably shouldn’t leave the damn door unlocked.

I honestly didn’t expect it to open when I tried the knob.

” She handed Wren the empty mug. “You weren’t answering your phone.

I’m proud to say I don’t give a fuck if you wanna see me or not, I’m here and I refuse to leave. ”

“I’m not gonna be great company, Sarah. I’m still—”

“Oh, we’ll both be great company. I brought something that’s gonna cheer us right up.” Sarah held up a bag of—God, was that…

“Okay, what’s up with you, dude? Where did you , of all people, get a fat bag of tree?” Wren asked, staring at what had to have cost her best friend a pretty penny. “You don’t even smoke.”

“I paid Leigh a little visit. She said to tell you that you’re a cunt for getting yourself fired. She’ll never forgive you.” Her eyes narrowed on Wren. “You didn’t tell me you got fired.”

“Not worth telling. Stop holding that bag up like it’s some kind of…

” She grabbed it and peeled it open to stick her nose into it.

“Damn, that’s…what are you planning to do?

Eat it?” The sarcasm for Sarah’s inexperience didn’t stop her friend from pulling a couple of wraps from the pocket of her leather jacket. “Okay?”

“You thought I was kidding? I also brought this.” Sarah turned and went into the kitchen, lifting a case of beer at her through the breakfast nook.

“Is there something I should know, friend? You have a bad day or something, or is this your attempt at getting me out of this apartment?”

“Actually, I’ve had an incredibly fucking awful last twelve hours, and I wanna get trashed with my best friend and put you to work.” Sarah loaded the beer into the fridge while Wren stepped around the kitchen doorway and leaned against the frame.

“Put me to work?”

Sarah turned, shutting the fridge and tossing Wren a beer bottle while she snapped the cap off of her own. “Yeah, I need you to give me a tattoo. You’ve got stuff here, don’t you?”

“I do. But you know if you’re sloshed, you’ll bleed more, and the ink is less likely to—”

“I don’t care. Let’s do this. We both need an out.

” Sarah sidestepped her and walked back into the living room, kicking her shoes off and losing her jacket.

Wren tossed the mug into the sink and twisted the cap off her beer, pressing it to her lips as she approached Sarah, who now stood looking over the canvas.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she grinned, swallowing.

“Is that?”

“Yep. Immortalized in all his glory.”

They both stood quiet, admiring the abstract painting of a man in a hideous sweater-vest. The head of the figure was nothing more than the cloud of an atomic bomb explosion, with bits of an American flag scattered around the background.

“I think this might be your best one yet,” Sarah smiled, turning her bottle up.

“Agree.” Wren moved to the round coffee table, dumping the weed out and sifting through nuggets. “I can’t believe you asked Leigh for pot,” she snickered, breaking it up and picking out seeds and stems.

“I don’t really know anybody else.”

“You wouldn’t. Goody-two-shoes whore,” Wren grinned.

“Whatever. If it isn’t a pill, and it could make us feel better, who really cares? Speaking of which…did I tell you Brent’s doctor prescribed him antidepressants?”

Brent…now that was an even better reason to get high.

“No, but that’s a beaten path I’m not trying to break my foot on right now.”

“Fair enough,” Sarah shrugged, sitting down on the carpet across from her. “Did I do okay?” Her chin jerked towards the mess Wren was still sorting through as she loaded up one of the wraps Sarah brought.

“There’s plenty that Leigh does half-ass. This isn’t one of them.” The corner of her mouth tugged up while she licked the end and rolled the rest of it. “So, you wanna tell me why your last twelve hours were so shitty?”

The way Sarah’s face dropped said it was something big. Wren gave her a minute to compose herself while she lit the end of the blunt. “I killed somebody yesterday.” Of course, she’d say that as soon as the burn of that smoke was hanging out in her lungs. She choked a little.

“I’m sorry?” Wren exhaled. “What the hell do you mean you killed somebody? Where? When… why ?” She passed it to Sarah.

“I had an Athan moment when we left the funeral. Fed on a bum in the old subway across town.”

Wren’s throat blissfully burned while her mouth hung open. “Gravedigger’s Hole?” she asked, earning a slow nod while Sarah hit, holding her smoke. “Well, that’s fitting. What were you doing out there? Is Athan working a drug case?”

Sarah blew her smoke away from a very curious Denver, who winced at the smell and darted off towards the bedroom.

“No, he’s taking time off. He hauled ass down that way to spare me from hurting somebody like a small child…

or a priest. I lost my shit in the car after we left the funeral.

Now I know why he couldn’t tell me about that night at the club.

I can’t bring myself to ever be mad at him again for hurting me. ”

“Is that why you want the tattoo? You’re doing what he does…

” Wren considered that for a moment. The way Athan’s body was covered in constant reminders of what he’d done.

It was admirable, but she wondered if Sarah could handle seeing that every day for the rest of her life.

“Are you sure you wanna do that?” she asked, taking the end of the stub and hitting it.

“I’m sure. That man deserves that much from me.” Sarah flipped her wrist over and stared at the raven tattoo. Wren’s eyes narrowed, then widened and she choked, yet again, on her smoke, pointing at a very large ruby she didn’t remember Sarah ever having.

“What. The. Fuck. Is that?”

Sarah’s frown turned upside down, slowly, and with enough admiration for Wren to feel nauseous. “Yeah, about that…I’m engaged. Again.”

“Oh, dear God.” Wren’s hand waved around the smoke like she was swatting flies. “Get away. You reek of romantic shit .”

Sarah burst out laughing and leaned over the table to pop Wren’s arm, to which she couldn’t help but cackle and fall backward, finally feeling the haze of drug-induced ignorance. “Come here, bitch! Lemme rub some nasty on ya!”

“Get off!” Wren laughed as Sarah tackled her. She had to admit. She missed this. Missed her. Missed normal .

Rhaena was grateful that Brandon was picking up security detail for a very sick officer Blakely, who was supposed to be posted outside an event for an important figure tonight, whose name she’d already forgotten, at some swanky hotel on the east side of Boston by the harbor.

Tired. She was dog tired…maybe…that was a poor choice of words.

She rested the back of her head against the back wall of the elevator at her building and sighed heavily in exhaustion over two large paper bags full of groceries.

Tonight, she was going to take a marathon shower.

She was gonna drink an entire bottle of wine by herself, and dammit, she was going to sprawl over that bed and shamelessly drool on every pillow she owned.

This whole, ‘jumping-into- a-serious-relationship’ thing was wonderful, but a part of her missed that small bit of privacy every now and then.

She didn’t miss that empty feeling that always found its way to roil in the pit of her stomach after her trysts with Athan in the apartment next door.

This was infinitely better than that—better than anything she’d ever had in her lonely life.

But one night of having no one to worry about, other than herself? That would be nice.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened, and any thought of a quiet evening of dismantling, and self-care…died ruthlessly in the sounds of breaking glass and loud music down her hall.

Oh, she’d have somebody’s ass tonight. Whoever they are.