"I know you loved both she and I, the way a mother can love two sons. And no one should be judged for loving more than they ought, only for loving not enough."--Catherynne M. Valente, "Deathless"

For the two weeks of the curfew, there was a sense of domestic bliss among the strange assortment of people in the Feila household. Scott had curiously abandoned his room in the hotel, though he technically still lived there. He spent all of his time with Ali and Lala, helping them to fix up the house, buying them furniture, giving the semblance of a well-adjusted man helping two young girls become responsible adults. Behind the facade, he was a man who was falling apart. His already tenuous grasp on the world was replaced with a longing, frenzied obsession he didn't know how to satiate.

He watched Eleni from the window, his body consumed with a frenzied kind of lust that combined Eleni and Lala in his mind. He wasn't even sure who or what he lusted for, just that he needed them both. He thought he was losing his mind, as something had happened that merged Eleni and Lala into a single entity. When Lala passed him in the hallway, and reached out to squeeze his hand and kiss his lips quickly, the smell of Eleni's roses overwhelmed him.

It was the small things that triggered Scott's sense of unreality. One day, Lala appeared, her tanned skin and warm brown skin turned to something darker with Eleni's crimson lips and shining blood-red nails. He almost pushed her against the wall then and there, not knowing which of them she was, and not caring.

The next day, he saw Eleni with her hair loose, her jet black waves falling softly against her skin as she danced in the moonlight by the water. Not a stitch covered her body, and she was nothing short of a goddess, Aphrodite reborn in darkness. He knew it was Eleni, because he'd know Eleni's kind of perfection anywhere she was, but she moved liked Lala. Eleni was perpetually poised, the sort of woman who was always in control of life. Watching her dance without inhibition was both alluring and confusing. He fought with himself for hours before he convinced himself not to run to the home next door that beckoned to him daily.

He hadn't been able to keep his promise to Lala, nor to Eleni. Lala wasn't his yet, not in the way he wanted her to be. She didn't push him, didn't blatantly proposition him, but instead made it her mission to keep him in a state of arousal he hadn't been in for many years. It was almost a mania, and there was cruelty in the way she teased him. He felt mocked, as if she were reminding him who was really in control.

A few times, Scott swore Lala changed her appearance, making herself look like Eleni in small ways that were so accurate it took his breath away. He wondered if she broke into the house next door to steal little things Eleni wouldn't miss. Other times, she reminded him of Ali, only a dangerous Ali, one that would not be hurt by him. This version of Ali would destroy him. He didn't have to wonder if she used Alisaundra's things to create the illusion.

She made him feel not only desire, but rage, and they merged together in a dangerous cocktail he hid with booze, and since Lala's arrival, stronger and.more reality-altering drugs. If Eleni was a Siren whose allure was beauty, Lala was a succubus. Everything about her inspired thoughts he was ashamed to acknowledge, even to himself. Every night was a struggle not to enter her room, or her body. He would fight for control if it killed him.

When the time came that he got what he wanted, she'd be lucky if he didn't kill her.

Ali was what kept them sane, made the two weeks seem normal. Scott and Lala both drank heavily, started doing lines of cocaine together, and were going as far as smoking opium. They convinced Ali to experience the adventure with them, and she acted as if she thought she were flying.

Scott had hoped the opium would get the two girls in his bed at the same time without any hard feelings. It didn't work, but he'd never seen Alisaundra so happy and so free. It shocked him how much her happiness meant to him. He wished he could keep her that way all the time. She had an ambition and discontent in her, that over time, would rob her of her joy. Scott did not love Ali, not in the way she hoped he would, but he wanted to protect the best parts of her from becoming hard and cynical. Life had a way of doing that to people

Ali and Lala were unlikely friends, but quickly became inseparable. They'd often stay up all night, talking about their lives. He did not mean to eavesdrop, but the youth and enthusiasm they shared lifted his heart a  bit. Ali helped Lala to find a job working at the occult shop in the city, telling fortunes and selling crystals and other nonsense. Lala was the perfect fit, especially seeing as Scott didn't think the powers of candles, incense, and chanting quite as nonsensical as some others did. The owner was a sweet Haitian woman name Caimbria, who loved the free-sprited Lala from the moment she set foot in the shop. Both Alisaundra and Lala were delighted with the new arrangement and did not hide their joy.

Twice, the girls had lunch with Iona, Ali's boss and Lala's sister. He worried about that. Iona didn't have any love for him. The old cliche was true, the one that said Hell had no fury like a woman scorned. Scott didn't claim to understand it. Iona never wanted him, never even liked him, and he could see her looking down on him with disdain even at the present moment. She was never a woman scorned. What he did know was Iona was a woman with a lot of pride, and Scott knew the trouble that accompanied prideful women. The relatively small slight of his disinterest in a woman equally disinterested had turned into a long-term grudge. He didn't care. He just didn't want Iona spoiling his current picture of domestic bliss.

It was a beautiful two weeks, one that took him so far from reality he didn't notice whatever went on at Eleni's, except when she was walking around naked or entertaining visitors. That, of course, he couldn't pull away from. There was no reason to, when he knew she saw him behind Ali's lace curtains. It was almost like she purposely dressed in that spot, fed in that spot, made love in that spot. Eleni had always liked eyes on her. Admiration was her aphrodisiac and her lifeblood.

Between seeing her covertly every day and Lala being so close, he was in a constant haze of unfulfilled needs and confusing fantasies. It made his own life suddenly seem more interesting than Eleni's, but only because she was a greater part of it than she knew.

Patience was said to be a virtue, and one Lala found rewarding once she'd gotten the hang of it. Not getting what she wanted was new to her, but her living situation had turned out to be complicated, to say the least. At Lala's helpful suggestion, Iona had finally kept Ali late at work. With the curfews in effect, she knew it wouldn't be for that long. Still, when Scott let himself into the house and saw the apparently sleeping figure of Lala on the bed, a genuine smile formed on his lips. Lala didn't have to see. She could feel it

She was napping, dressed only in a trademark loose tank and a matching thong, an ensemble that left nothing to the imagination. Iona had told her his other lover had been a French woman, one nicknamed "The Black Widow". She'd made sure her clothing was black and her lips were a deep sultry red. Her light brown hair looked darker, the waves transformed into tighter curls, the gold jewels replaced with Iona's pearls. Lala was suddenly someone who could pass for an old-fashioned lady in her boudoir. There was nothing quite like the power of suggestion.

He'd made her a lot of promises he'd yet to deliver on, and Lala was tired of waiting. After all, the situation had to be dire if she'd been confiding in Iona, who she sometimes thought was born dead inside. Maybe it was Iona's way of rebelling against how they grew up, but her sister didn't understand love or closeness or what it was to need anyone or anything. Iona told her independence was the only freedom, but it wasn't so. There were many needs and many paths to freedom. Some were physical, some were financial, some were just a need to feel like a part of a family again, surrounded by love. Sex was an easy solution for all those needs, although only ever temporary.

She mimicked the sounds of sleep as he walked into her room, staring at her on the bed for a moment. She could feel his excitement the moment he looked at her, and almost obligingly, she turned halfway, one knee turning at an angle to allow him to watch her at her most vulnerable. For effect, she put her hand on her breast, displaying ruby red fingernails. Lala was good at knowing what men wanted, and this one wanted a woman he couldn't have. It was a common affliction, one she'd remedied before. Lala had helped plenty of men through breakups, divorces, the death of a loved one. She knew how to be whatever was needed. She didn't know why this was the way to his heart, or who the woman really was. Iona's stories sounded like the plots of soap operas. Whatever happened, it didn't matter anymore. She knew she could be a compelling substitute.

The scent of heavy, fragrant herbs hung in the air and burned with a smoke that was almost a disorienting fog over her body. She loved being trapped inside it, the way she always escaped to other worlds. Lala giggled, moving about almost as if she were sleeping and dreaming about something wonderful. She feels the way his hands tentatively roam her body, unsure but filled with need. Everyone had needs. When he moves away to close the door, she knows she's succeeded, letting out a little whimper to encourage his hands back.

Something changed as he moved closer to Lala, the fog and the scents around him making him bolder. He gasped as his hands roamed over her body. Lala thought it was less exciting and more like a form of worship, but he clearly didn't agree. Her arms reach out for him, and she murmurs, "You don't have to be so gentle, not with me. "

She couldn't believe he'd ever gotten involved with Iona. It was a ridiculous story. At least Ali was fun, easy to please. Iona was a punishment. Lala and Iona couldn't have been more different, but he wanted them both, or so she thought. Where Iona was taller, athletic, always impeccable, Lala was shorter, more rounded, unrestrained. Light, and dark.

Iona was the more sophisticated of the two, receiving a formal education and pursuing a career. Lala was her own career, trained by the very best. In a family of eight siblings, Lala was the con artist of the family. She could charm a starving man out of his last nickel. Lala didn't know Scott would be a challenge, as he'd known someone who made Lala's gifts look like child's play. Yet, for all their differences, anyone who spent any amount of time in their combined company would soon figure out that Iona and Lala couldn't be anything but sisters. They were smart, ambitious, and willing to do absolutely anything to get what they wanted.

As he took over her body with strong hands and eyes heavily lidded with desire, that hustler in her surfaced. It was instinctual, almost, to flutter her eyelashes and begin laying on the charm. Even while supposedly sleeping, Lala was reaching up to him with the end of one beaded braid. Given their long separation, Iona hadn't been there while Lala had come into her own, so she might suspected her younger sister's behaviour meant that she was some kind of prostitute. Nothing could be further from the truth. Lala was far from inexperienced, but she wasn't playing for money. She didn't reject men who thought that's what she was. She simply looked out for herself. Lala was long gone with the man's money before it even got that far. What Lala wanted was far more wholesome, and far more dangerous.

She wanted to be needed. She wanted a family, a real family who would appreciate her and make her feel valuable. Lala came from a world where family wasn't about two people living quietly and watching television. It was a world where everyone shared everything, and everyone felt needed. Lala missed that. Iona never made her feel anything at all, but with Scott and Ali, she could have her own kind of family.

Lala knew it would only take a little patience, charm, and the right kind of coaxing.

She was mid-coquettish appeal, body arching under his touch, when Scott spoke again, his speech reminding her that he was the rough sort. He liked his girls sweet and helpless. Whoever the Black Widow was, she was obviously some kind of exception. She was one of those who needed words and wooing, which Lala did not. It bored her.

"You're so beautiful. Especially today. You're dark again, but warmer than ever. Stay this way for me, won't you? I hated that you changed, though I know you have to. You're finally you again."

His hand touched her cheek, almost lovingly, and Lala looked stunned, having no idea what he was talking about. "You're showing me what you want, aren't you? I wondered why you changed. You didn't, though. You never stopped needing me."

His words were a hoarse whisper. but she smiled as his body pressed into hers. The unmistakable sound his hand fumbling with the zipper anxiously excited her a bit. "Some day soon, we won't have to rush. It won't matter if he knows. Please don't make me beg, though you know I will. "

Lala's breath stuck in her throat as his lips moved against his ear, and his fingers brushed the silken fabric of her panties aside. The whisper she heard sounded like another person entirely. "We don't have much time. I'm sorry for that. Hold still and let me love you the way you should be loved. Let me do what I need to do, just today. I need you.

She doesn't open her eyes, but gasps and moves her arms, flailing as he pushes into her just so he will pin her down. He does, his voice returning to normal. She'd disrupted his fantasy, angered him, and this made her happy. "I told you not to move. The part where you are free to tell me no is over. You will learn that soon enough. Do you not remember me telling me you were mine now?"

Lala remembered, and wondered if he knew she was Lala again. The thought brought a smile to her lips.

His arms were strong, and his body surprisingly quick, agile. "I've been watching you, every day. I can't stand being so far from you when you are so close. You don't know how I've needed this. My beautiful Eleni. How can someone so strong be so soft, so small? I miss the smell of fresh strawberries between your lips, Eleni. "

Lala smiled, her body tingling with his touch and the power of knowledge. Eleni. That was the woman's name, the one Iona had told her about. He was every bit the liar and cheat she'd thought he was, and Lala counted on that.

This would be so much more enjoyable if he didn't talk so much. This Eleni chick sounds like a pain in the ass. Lala smirked to herself, hoping the next time, when she was Lala, he'd shut up.

Lala tried not to laugh. He wasn't kidding about the need and the importance of rushing. Mere minutes ticked by before he dug his nails into her flesh, another pressing against her mouth as if he expected her to make noise. She panicked a minute, not breathing. He moved his head, stifling the sound of his release in a pillow.

She pulled away, unsatisfied but victorious. Lala heard his panting, hands reaching for her as he looked up. "Eleni...no. Please don't be angry. Tomorrow, you will be alone and I will make you feel like my princess. I wish you could feel like that every day." She felt a gentle kiss on her cheek that brought tears to her eyes. There was true emotion in his voice, and it bothered her. It bothered her a lot. He had said he didn't feel love, but inside the fog, it sounded an awful lot like he did.

Lala didn't open her eyes, but heard the shock as he moved away, adjusting his clothes. "Oh, my God. Fuck. Lala, I'm sorry. You reminded me of someone. I have no idea why. I know who you are. Shit, what happened?" His voice sounds strained, apologetic, and full of panic. "I'm so sorry, Lala. I hope to God you don't remember any of this. I'm such a fucking asshole, and I'm sorry."

She wasn't sure who he was apologising to, but she thought it was her. Lala felt him cover her up, heard the sound of rifling, money left on the nightstand. She wanted to scream out that she didn't want that. She didn't want to feel like his whore, but a Roma girl wasn't one to turn down a gift. What she'd gotten in less than ten minutes was infinitely more valuable.

The red marks on her wrists stung, but they made her body ache for more. Sooner or later, he would have to offer her the same kind of pleasure he gave Eleni. Next time, she'd try black lace and heels for him. It sounded like something a woman called The Black Widow would wear.

Lala moved herself back into a pose of pretend sleep in case he returned, only partially satisfied. She'd thought Iona was crazy, but she'd have to thank her sister later

If life were a chess match, she'd moved far into opposing territory. It was dangerous, but exhilarating.

The last night of the curfew was a strange one, a full moon hanging above the city. Ali seemed more restless than usual, and Scott had a lot on his mind. He didn't notice she did, too. Her hands wandered over his body, long blonde hair framing her face as she propped herself up on an elbow.

"So, do you like her?" Ali's voice was serious, but still playful in a way that held his attention. She was like a sexy little kitten sometimes. The most attractive thing about Ali was how oblivious she was to her own appeal.

Scott blinked, trying to pull his body and mind together enough to listen to whatever Ali wanted to talk about. "Hmmm? Who?"

"My roommate, silly. Lala. Do you like her? She's been here long enough to tell, right?"

Scott attempted to get Ali to stop talking, pulling her close and kissing her deeply. He was hoping she would be easily distracted. "She seems like a very nice girl. I think the two of you will be good friends. Girls need other girls they can talk to about life, just like men need other men to have a beer with."

Ali's face radiated with happiness at the kiss, slightly breathless as she rolled next to him. He knew she had to notice the difference in him. He was suddenly a teenage boy again, obsessed with fantasy and thoroughly lacking stamina and imagination for the reality, Ali was good to him, though. She never asked, never looked disappointed.

She loved him and all he had to offer her was heartbreak. The heat of her body and thinking about Lala---who had been Eleni and then Lala again---aroused him in a fevered, uncomfortable way. He pushed a finger between her lips, admiring the sexy look he could see even in the dark. "Do you think she's pretty?"

"Lala? Yeah, I suppose so. She's alright. Not really my type, but some guy out there somewhere will be very lucky." He pushed the finger between her lips, now thoroughly awake and attentive. "Mmmm. Shhh, Ali. I like how you look, just like this. It's perfect." Scott took a minute to admire her, then replaced his finger with his whiskey-soaked tongue, the scent of desire growing within their bed.

It wasn't enough to distract Ali, and she pulled away, protesting still. "Well, but you thought Eleni was pretty. That sucked for me. I hated the way you looked at her whenever she was around."

Scott sighed, as his attempts to divert Alisaundra's attention to things he'd rather do were failing. When she decided she wanted to talk "about things", it was hard to shut her up. "That's not some personal slight, Ali. Everyone with eyes thinks Eleni is pretty. Some girls are like that. You can't not notice, but it doesn't mean anything. Guys just look. Right now, I want to look at you, but you have to stop talking. It's distracting."

Ali wasn't taking the bait, and ignored his comment. "Well, looking is upsetting, you know! The sad thing is, I really liked Eleni and would have wanted to live with her." Even in the dark, he can see the glimmer of hurt in her eyes. He had no clue what to do to fix it.

"I didn't ask her because I didn't want to keep seeing you look at her with those weird eyes. Now she isn't my friend anymore. I don't want the same thing to happen with Lala. Lala's been a really good friend to me. "

Scott sighed, a sound of annoyance and impatience. "Ali, you're ridiculous. First of all, Eleni is a grown woman who isn't going to stop being your friend because you didn't ask her to move in. She wouldn't have said yes, anyhow. She likes her privacy too much."

Whatever desire his body had conjured up was erased by general irritation. "Second of all, yes, Eleni is pretty. Lala is pretty. What does that have to do with anything? All girls are attractive, in a way. Doesn't mean I personally want every pretty girl around."

Ali's voice echoed the sigh, and he wondered what was wrong with her. That time of the month made women impossible. On the up side, it meant she wasn't knocked up. He hears Ali chewing her nail, her nervous habit. "I guess. I don't want to start to look at Lala like I did Eleni. Like competition I couldn't live up to. "

"Alisaundra. You are behaving like an immature child and I'm tired. There are worse things in the world than appreciating pretty ladies, yourself included." Scott turned away, figuring the conversation will end if he pretends to sleep.

He forgot it was Ali. The conversation did not end.

"Well, like for instance, Lala told me you used to date her sister. That's my editor, you know. She's really nice. Especially for a boss. She just got all weird when I mentioned you "

It takes about five seconds for him to bolt upright, his body ready for some kind of fight. Ali's voice sounds distant, almost mournful to his ears. There was so much emotion over so much nothing. Scott was genuinely exhausted and annoyed by it. "Why didn't you ever tell me that? I mean, like, you think of me as a girlfriend and stuff, don't you? I should know stuff like who you dated so I don't feel stupid. "

"Both Lala and her sister have big mouths and should learn to do more with them than talk." Ali's eyes have snapped open wide, and he reaches for the bottle next to the bed. The mention of Iona always put him in a bad mood, and he immediately regretted the words.

He lowered his head in regret, and his free hand reached for Ali. He didn't want to make her cry, but he felt the tears forming in her eyes. "Ali. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I don't want to hurt you. I used to date a few ladies before I met you, and so what? I'm just tired and done with this conversation. What matters is now, right?"

He felt her body relax a little, and he inwardly gave a relieved sigh of his own. It was a sign she was going to drop the subject soon. "Did you used to date Eleni, too, before you met me?"

"Not even slightly. Look, Ali, I don't know why you're asking these questions about my past. But you've got to understand some things. I've been around this planet longer than you. I like the company of pretty women. I have never liked the company of the same one for too long, because conversations like this frustrate me. Still, you're the first one in a long time I keep coming back to. Doesn't that say something?" He tried to bury his urge to scream with a pillow over his head.

"It's hard to trust you sometimes, that's all. The first day I met her, Lala answered the door with her shirt wet and smelling like your cologne and whiskey. That was like..upsetting. I let it go but it was"

Scott turned on the light, eyes glaring. Ali's idea of letting things go was far different from his. "Fuck, Ali. I hugged the girl and gave her a drink. She had a long trip and we had to wait for you." He tried to reach out for her, but she moved away, infuriating him. "We've all been having a great time, Ali. What's with all this about Iona and Eleni and whoever else, and am I attracted to Lala? They're just girls I knew in the past, all of them. Lala is a pretty girl who's great for someone who isn't me. If you're going to call me out on trust and lying, have a reason. This is bullshit. "

Ali's eyes filled with tears that rolled down her cheeks. "So, it's true, then. I just, like, didn't want it to be. I wanted you to be a good guy. "

"What's true? That I knew women before I met you? Did you think I was some kind of monk? Grow the fuck up for once." Scott rolled his eyes. "I am so done with this, Ali. I don't know what's in your head, but the women who have graced my bed do not include any of the people you're so concerned over. If Iona says anything else, she's a fucking liar. You taking her word over mine shows you have no faith in me. I never said I was a good guy, Ali. I just try."

"It's true about Eleni and Iona. Lala said you all knew each other before you came here. It's not like, in my head. Iona would write her all these letters about her adventures. She doesn't have any clue Lala really hates her, calls her a bitch."

The light shows tears moving down Alisaundra's face, and he feels a mixture of fury and pity. He knew something like this would happen someday, but he wasn't ready to deal with it.Instead, his voice grew loud enough to wake not only Lala, but Eleni, and whoever was in her house.

"I never told Lala's sister a fucking thing about me or my life. We went out a few times, it didn't work out. If she's dragging all this out to cause trouble, she's a fucking bitch, okay? But the past has nothing to do with you, so you're gonna have to get over that. " Scott stands up, suddenly pacing. The room was claustrophobic.

"Think, Ali. How could she possibly know who I knew before I came here? I didn't know Iona before I came here, and Eleni, we crossed social circles sometimes because we lived in the same city with a few million other people. New Orleans isn't this Parish, where everyone's up in everyone's business, thank God. "

Alisaundra's face spoke volumes. She wanted to believe him. She clearly didn't, and it's written firmly within her expression. "I knew you were kind of screwed up but I thought you'd change if you loved me. I love you so much! I'd do anything for you. Why is it so hard to be honest? I mean, I saw letters. I saw the video on Lala's phone. You can't fake that but you're still lying, trying to make it like I'm wrong."

She covers her face, lost in sobs. "I think you should just go. Come back when you want to tell me how things really are. It hurts to say that but I don't want you to play me, you know?"

Scott's face changed to one of fury. She had no right to tell him to leave, not after everything he'd done for her. She had to be on something. Who knew what Ali and Lala did when they were alone? "Ali, are you high? Drunk? You're making no sense. I don't know what's gotten into you, but I can promise gossip from Iona isn't worth getting this upset over. What fucking letters? What video?"

He breathes in and out a few times. "I know you like her, and she's your boss. That doesn't make her a nice person. Didn't you know girls like that back in school, Ali? She gossips mostly to upset people. As you can see, it works." He paces back and forth, thinking if he calms down, she will too.

"I don't think you're right in the head at this moment. Just go to sleep. Get whatever's wrong with you out of your system, and stop taking shit Lala gives you. Do you want to end up like me, Ali? Like her? She's a tramp and an addict who uses people to get by. I've been a lost cause for a long, long time. You've got choices, so be fucking smarter about them. "

Ali stood up to face him, her red eyes both sad and furious. "Oh-em-gee. You think I'm the stupidest person, don't you? Or maybe I just know more about your life than you?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Iona knew Eleni's husband. Not like casually, like knew him behind Eleni's back. He's dead now. Iona knows a lot of stories about Eleni and her friends back in New Orleans. I'm sure you can figure out there are reasons she hates you. "

The room fell silent, except for the hurt angry sobs punctuating desperate words. "Oh, and the video was the one from Lala's phone. You finally gave her what she wanted, though you didn't. At least you didn't do that, care about her. She wanted you to want her, but you only wanted her when she looked like Eleni and you thought she was asleep. How twisted ARE you? I've got to pretend to be half-dead for you to love me back, is that it?"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. His mind started to panic, wondering how to get out with the least amount of damage, and how much she knew. He had to protect himself, and his dignity. He had to protect Eleni. He had to protect Ali. Lala had set him up, and like an idiot, he fell for it. For a moment, all he wanted was his hands around the girl's throat. "Ali. I am warning you--"

Ali never knew when to stop. The point where enough words have been said didn't exist for her, which was part of her charm and part of what made her maddening. At this point, she was only the second in the eyes of Scott Feila. She's so young. You have to forgive it. That's all it is.  His thoughts are far more reasonable than his feelings as her voice drones on.

"You know what people say about Eleni and her husband? Everyone says she murdered him. That's why someone like her lives in a place like this. She had to get out of town fast. Do you think Iona doesn't know things? She's a reporter. Only thing I don't understand is why she didn't go to the police. "

"If I leave this house, Alisaundra, do not think I will come back."

"She murdered him so she could live like she does, collecting men and money. I'm sorry I can't measure up to THAT." Ali wiped tears from her face, barely breathing between words. "You know what else they say? They say you helped her, because you're in love with her. That's the truth, isn't it? That whole strangers in a hotel act was pretty convincing."

Scott said nothing for nearly a full moment, feeling the darkness starting to swell up around him. The silence was frightening, even to himself. "Alisaundra. Listen to me this instant. I'm going to do you a favour and pretend I didn't hear any of that from your lips. If you ever, EVER repeat that slander and malicious gossip to anyone, it will be the last thing anyone ever hears from you. Do yourself a favour. Get back into the bed and pretend this was a dream. Tomorrow, it will be like none of this ever happened." His words were oddly calm, collected, and feel nothing like the swirl of madness his mind has become.

Ali acted as if she couldn't even hear him anymore. She was a blind mess of emotion and rage and betrayal. It was clear, somewhere along the line, someone pushed Ali too far. "You did it, didn't you? You killed someone for her, because you love her that much. She doesn't even think of you. I love you, and you wouldn't do that for me. You can't even keep it in your pants for me." Ali spat her words through tears. "What did I do wrong, Scott? Why wasn't I good enough?" She collapsed on the edge of the bed, sitting with her head almost in her lap.

His eyes burn as he takes swigs from the bottle, emptying a quarter of it in under a minute. "You want the truth? Fine. Here goes, Ali. I fucked Lala because she's a whore and a grifter and great at what she does. She's been walking around begging for it since she got here. That part's okay by you, though. You believe everything she has to say. She's a fucking witch, handing out drugs and burning herbs and spreading her legs for everyone. It's called black magic, Ali. Voodoo. It's all over this place. Eleni's husband, Iona, Lala, they all know that shit. At least Lala just gets her kicks out of stealing shit and pretending to be other people. So what? It wasn't just Eleni. Lala came to me as you, too. She likes fucking with people's minds more than their bodies." 

He sighed, feeling defeated. "You're right, Ali. I wouldn't say no to Eleni, the real Eleni, anyway. I wouldn't kill for her. I wouldn't marry her. I wouldn't turn her away, either, even though the reality would disappoint compared to the idea. That's how men work, plain and simple. Like it or not, women too. You just don't know it yet. We all fantasize about what we can never have. That's not love. Ali, I don't know shit about love, but I know what it's not."

"Shit, Ali. It was a fantasy that lasted five minutes and Lala was slightly more entertaining than my hand. I'm only human. You didn't do anything wrong, Ali, except dramatic shit like this. You're a great girl. You're more than good enough.  I'm not great at the one person thing. Lala obviously isn't either and saw a target. Life is short. We live, we love, we get drunk, we get high, we fuck around. Don't pretend you're something better just because you're too young to know you're not."

Scott's entire body shook as he railed on and on. He held his body perfectly still, afraid of himself and what he wants to do to everyone in the house. "I am using every bit of self-control to not touch you, Alisaundra. You do not want to see what happens if I do. Take my word for it. Get. In. The. Fucking. Bed. You think you've solved some great mystery but you've just said hurtful shit. You know next to nothing about the people you judge. You are a jealous, self-indulgent child with a dangerous imagination that's being fed by people worse than you. " 

Ali's stare is something vacant, empty, and broken. "Maybe I am too young to understand, but I know lies hurt. Eleni's husband knew everything about both of you. Everything. I think you know what I'm talking about. And he told Iona, because he was with her while you were banging his wife." A shrill laugh escapes Ali, almost deranged in its sound. "That's why you're all really here, isn't it? You're all liars and psychopaths who think what you do doesn't hurt people  or matter. It matters.."

Ali banged on the wall angrily, a note of hysteria twisted in her high-pitched voice. "You hear that, Scott? Eleni? Iona? Lala? I know all your secrets now, you sick freaks. Maybe it's time the rest of the world did too." 

Of course, there was no reply. There was nothing but darkness and the sound of the lamp being pulled from the wall, followed by Alisaundra's ear-piercing scream. Scott didn't remember most of what happened, which was the usual way of things. He was almost a cliche, a violent alcoholic with blackouts.

Scott didn't remember the lamp or the threatening tone in Ali's voice, the way his world stopped turning all of the sudden. He didn't remember the moment when the bottle in his hand collided, with all the force in his body, against the side of Alisaundra's perfectly straight blonde hair. He felt the way her body slumped down on the floor like a little rag doll, the sound of tiny broken breaths reaching out for him, but they quickly vanished and so did the memory. He didn't remember the glass, or the rivulets of blood that stained the perfectly new carpet, but he remembered the smell of whiskey. The smell of whiskey and blood was the one that brought him back to himself.

All he remembered was doing what he did best, grabbing his bag and running. On his way out of the house, from behind the door, he saw the dark, knowing eyes of Lala Bellerose staring back at him.

Scott is still in his room, reliving the past two weeks over and over again, trying not to think too hard as he uses whiskey and the incessant drone of sitcoms from a decade ago to numb his mind. He needs to know if Ali is still alive. He hopes Lala took her to the hospital or they called the police. He needs to know if there's cops wandering the streets looking for him, or worse yet, a hit man. It would be easy to text Eleni and ask her to check on Ali's house for him, but she hadn't even figured out who her neighbours were yet.He isn't ready to give up his secret. He's saving it for when it counts. He hopes it counts before anyone who wants to kill him finds him.

Downstairs, he hears the voice of a girl, and his heart jumps. She sounds young, like Ali, but she's saying something about trying to find her father and her luggage being misplaced at a tavern. At least that's one situation that's not his responsibility. At least, as far as he knows. Anything is possible, the way his luck has been going.

Scott finally dozes off, vowing to give up drugs and partying and women too young for him if everything works out. He even promises to cut back on the whiskey. Three hours later, a knock at the door causes him to jump, eyes wide open as his breath catches in his throat.

In the entirety of the world, there is only one person he wants to see right now. He wishes desperately she were still on the other side of the wall, content in her purple and white room. She would protect him from whatever was on the other side of the door, and he needs that now more than ever.

Getting up slowly, he walks toward the door in the way a condemned prisoner would approach the execution chamber. Half of him expects a bullet through the head to be his greeting.

If Ali didn't make it, he deserved it.

He always knew he would hurt her, just not like this