Page 60 of The Carnage We Keep

“You two need to get married,” he says in a low voice. “Right now.”

11

DAMIANO

“How about Ibiza?”

A lot of people side-eye Morvaine Manor. I mean, I get it. It’s a two-hundred-year-old rambling gothic mansion half-swallowed by the woods at the edge of campus, and it straight-up looks like the haunted mansion at Disney. Throw in the rumors that Silas Morvaine—one of the school’s founders, who built and lived in this very house—was secretly an ax-murderer who buried his victims in the surrounding rose gardens?

Yeah. I can see the trepidation.

But I happen to fucking love it.

I love the slightly sinister gothic aesthetic of the place. I love its gloomy vibes. What I really love is the small section of flat roof right above my room, only accessible via a staircase in my room.

Private roof deck with views of the rest of campus through the trees?

Sign me up.

But not even the view from one of my favorite spots on campus is doing fuck-all for my mood right now.

“Dame.”

I glance over to Cenzo, sitting in the folding beach chair next to mine.

“Huh?”

He rolls his eyes as he finishes rolling the joint in his fingers.

“I said how about Ibiza?”

My brows knit.

“For?”

His shit-eating grin gives it away even before he says the words.

“Bachelor party, baby!”

“Nope.” I shake my head. “We’re not doing that.”

“Like fuck we aren’t,” he chuckles. “I mean, there has to be some good coming out of my grump of a big bro being forced to marry…wait, what do you keep calling her?”

“Satan’s emotional support gremlin.”

He snickers. “Nah, not that one.”

“Little Miss Menace.”

“Close, but I don’t think that was⁠—”

“Murder Muppet.”

“That’s the one,” he cackles, sticking the joint between his lips as he grins at me. “Murder muppet.” He snickers and shakes his head “Fuck, man.”

“Tell me about it,” I growl.

“So…that’s a no on Ibiza? You could even fly us there!”