Page 134 of Hellbound

It was the last cogent thought that formed before she sank into unconsciousness.

CHAPTER FORTY

“I’ve got a card with a six-figure limit, a ‘spare no expense’ directive from Vale, and you want to shop for clothes at Target?”

Paul didn’t sound nearly as disgusted by Marian’s choice as his words suggested.

“This place is classy,” Marian replied. “They sell the good toilet paper here.”

The sun blazed outside, super-heating the concrete parking lot to near-oven temperatures. She’d savored the blast of AC when they walked in, not even minding the crowd. Hot days in the late fall were an affront to her Pacific Northwest sensibilities. Her pale skin suffered, but at least she could blame her red cheeks on the heat and not the memories of her night with Vale that kept coming to mind.

She’d been peppered with flashbacks ever since waking up alone, tucked into her bed. Marian had no recollection of getting herself there, but she did have a vague memory of Vale carrying her upstairs, forcing water down her throat, and some form of food. Then it was lights out. She’d never slept so hard.

She’d forever congratulate herself for meeting his eyes the next morning. Especially given how awkward she felt after she tried to sneak into the kitchen for solo breakfast only to find him waiting for her with hash browns and an omelet she wasn’t allowed to refuse.

He gave her a wide berth after that, as though he wanted to avoid spooking her for once. Then he sent her shopping with Paul while he attended to some business he wouldn’t disclose. It was confusing as hell.

Paul pushed a rattling cart past her. “We’re not shopping for toilet paper. We’re shopping for a wardrobe.”

“Don’t you think Verinne’s going to find it weird if I show up in a bunch of brand new clothes?”

He gave her a look. “You made bank off so-called demons and walked around wearing pants that look like they lost a fight with six dirty raccoons. That’s weird.”

“I didn’t keep that money.”

“The Argent don’t know that. Most divers go the Bjernsen route and go full tacky-rich.”

Greg’s name made her blood boil instantly.

Paul had stopped in the aisle to look behind him like a meerkat surveying the savannah. “Does this place still have those baggies of fresh popcorn? Because I would do unspeakable things to a bag of popcorn right about now.”

A detour to the food stand ended in disappointment when Paul discovered Target no longer sold popcorn. Or ICEEs. So, they resumed their mission.

They had passed the children’s section when Marian spotted something on a rack that made her do a double take. Her steps slowed, and Paul had to stop the cart so she could catch up.

“What?” He asked, searching for the focus of her rapt attention.

A pair of black drawstring shorts covered in the smiling faces of hundreds of Pikachus.

Marian crossed the aisle to the display. Paul followed, the cart’s wheels rattling behind her. She pushed through the hangers until she found a pair that looked like they’d fit.

What are you doing?

“What are you doing?” Paul echoed her thought. “This stuff is for, like, adolescent boys.”

It sure was. But Marian was too fixated on the feeling in her chest when she saw them. They made her happy for some inexplicable reason. They were cute, and she decided she liked that.

She wanted them desperately.

Marian hadn’t thought about Pokémon in years until Tori asked her about her tastes, her hobbies, the things that enriched one’s life that Marian had decided she didn’t need or deserve.

“I just …” She looked up at Paul. “I just want them.”

Paul arched a thick black brow, his deep brown eyes narrowing. He looked at the rack, then at her. Lips pursed, he plucked the pair of shorts out of Marian’s hands and put them back on the rack.

Marian deflated. But why should she? She didn’t need Paul’s permission. She didn’t need anyone’s permission to buy some goddamn shorts. But the specter of doubt lingered.

Her mother laughs as Marian on the cusp of her teen years holds up the buffalo plaid shirt for approval. The sound bursts the little bubble of hope she guarded so foolishly.