Of Ice and Villains (House of Cryos #1)

Chapter 17

Seventeen

“ W ho was it, Minnie?” I ask again, more pointedly. “Who did you kiss?”

She appears taken aback by my vehemence. She licks her lips as she prepares to speak.

Bad idea.

Now I’m staring at her lips.

Imagining another man’s lips on hers.

Thinking about her sighing another man’s name while he plunders her sweet mouth.

My pulse is through the roof, and I press harder on the gas pedal.

“Marlowe,” she yelps, holding on to her seat.

“Who was it, Minnie?”

“It was you, you idiot!” she screams. “I kissed you on the cheek, didn’t I?”

I blink. A deep sense of relief envelops me and I’m able to breathe properly again.

“Just me?” I ask, just to make sure.

Did it suddenly get too hot in here? I pull on my collar to loosen the tie.

“Just you,” she confirms.

“Good. Make sure it stays that way,” I grumble, though inside I’m gloating.

Pleasure spreads through me as I let myself enjoy this small win.

“What about you?” she asks in a vicious tone. “How many women have you kissed, Marlowe?”

She crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowed as she looks at me. If those beautiful eyes could shoot daggers, I’d be riddled with holes right now.

Veering to the right, I stop the car by the side of the road and turn toward her.

She’s still glaring at me.

“How many, Marlowe?” she repeats in an icy tone.

Fuck. I’ve always hated the cold, but if it’s coming from Minnie, I suppose I can learn to like it.

Minnie is probably thinking the number is in the hundreds, and she’s waiting for me to voice that number aloud so she can give me the cold shoulder treatment for another week.

Alas, I have a surprise in store for her.

I smirk at her and cup her cheeks. Her eyes widen and her brows pull up in confusion.

She blinks repeatedly, fluttering those long and pretty lashes at me. I ignore the fact that she’s wearing dead people’s ashes on her lids. Even human remains look good on her.

Leaning in, I press my lips against the corner of her mouth, just as she’d done to me before.

Her skin is soft and warm. And as I make contact with the corner of her lips, a jolt of electricity shoots through me. It stings, but it’s a sweet pain that I’d gladly seek more of.

This close, her scent invades my nostrils. She’s not wearing perfume. I’ve already ascertained she’s allergic to it. But there’s something absolutely delectable about the way she smells—as if she just bathed in a mix of cherry blossoms and musk. My nostrils flare, and I get the urge to move my lips to the left until my mouth covers hers—until her breath becomes my breath .

My clothes are suddenly too tight, too stifling.

Just a small contact, and I find myself on the verge of losing control.

Would her mouth taste heavenly too?

I linger for exactly five seconds. I count it. Much longer and we’d never make it to dinner with my mother, that’s for sure. Not when I’m certain her taste would be a hundred times more addictive than her cooking.

I pull back.

“There,” I whisper. “We’re even now.”

She’s frozen on the spot, her eyes on me.

She presses her lips together, her tongue peeking out to lick the place I just kissed.

“What do you mean we’re e-even?” she stammers.

I smile.

“It means exactly what you think it means.” I wink at her.

I start the car anew and steer it back onto the highway.

Minnie opens her mouth to speak but then closes it. A myriad of emotions plays across her face, but the most conspicuous one is confusion.

She doesn’t know what to make of my confession.

The rest of the journey, she mulls over my words as she stares out the window. She fiddles with her fingers continuously, biting on her nails.

I pretend I don’t watch her, but I do.

To my surprise, the fact that she’s eating her nails doesn’t faze me. Why, I put my mouth on top of her blood-stained one. Cow blood. And I still haven’t retched.

Why, I haven’t even reached for my mouthwash.

That in itself is a miracle.

Maybe I don’t need therapy. Maybe all along, I just needed a Minnie.

Correction. Not a Minnie. This Minnie. Because there’s only one of her.

Only one in the entire world .

And she happened to fall into my lap.

I’ve never considered myself much of a lucky person. I mean, sure, I recognize the privilege I have in being born into a rich family, but aside from that, I don’t think I’ve ever been happy in my life.

If I were to think back on my childhood, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t live in fear—for myself or for my family. Perhaps that’s the reason why I don’t remember laughing or smiling like this before.

But since Minnie came into my life…

It’s almost as if I’m no longer the old Marlowe.

I’m just… her Marlowe.

We reach the restaurant and as we get out of the car, the manager greets us.

“Keep your head down,” I advise Minnie.

She does as told, a surprise in itself.

“Welcome, Mr. Spencer-Astor. Please follow me.”

“Thank you,” I say and incline my head.

To ensure our privacy, my mother has booked a private room. On the way there, we pass by a few people, but Minnie remains glued to my side, shielding her face from everyone.

The manager tells us we’ve arrived at the destination before taking his leave.

“Wait,” Minnie suddenly says. “What if your mother doesn’t like me? I want her to like me.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” I mutter drily just as the door to the private room opens to reveal my mother.

“Marlowe!” she cries out and all but jumps on me, hugging me to her chest.

I tense, but I allow her this moment.

Physical touch is important for her. It’s always been her love language. And though I may not be the biggest fan of skinship, I don’t have the heart to tear her from me. Usually, I allow her this once a year, on her birthday. It’s the one thing she desires that money cannot buy. This year, though, it seems she’ll be getting two hugs.

She should consider herself lucky—which, of course, I aim to tell her.

I stand there, still as stone while she holds me tight and rubs my back.

I grit my teeth.

She coos some words into my ear as if I were a baby—another thing that my mother does every time she sees me. Again, I allow her this since she’s a rather sensitive soul. Any other and I might put a bullet through their heads.

After what feels like an eternity, she finally draws back.

Her green eyes are glistening with tears, and she dabs her fingers on her cheeks to remove the moisture.

“You look so good, dear. What has changed?” she asks sheepishly as her gaze finally moves from me to Minnie.

“And this is your little friend? Oh, Lord, aren’t you a darling. What’s your name, pretty girl?”

Minnie blushes profusely and brings her chin down.

“Hello, Mrs. Spencer-Astor,” she murmurs shyly. “My name is Minnie.”

“Nonsense, call me Simone,” my mother says. “I’m so happy to meet you, Minnie. You have no idea just how much. I almost gave up on the hope that this rascal will ever get himself a girl.”

She takes a step forward and gives Minnie the same treatment. She wraps her arms around her slight frame and gives her a bear hug.

If possible, Minnie turns even redder. She bites her lip and glances at me from the corner of her eyes, not knowing how to respond to it.

I smile, pleased.

Before, I would have quickly chimed in to say she’s not my girl. But I have since reformed. And to my surprise, the term my girl sounds entirely too good. Perhaps I should use it more often in the future.

I’m in danger of losing myself to my musings when I realize that my mother is still hugging Minnie, who’s now starting to look a little uncomfortable.

“Mother, I think this is enough,” I intervene, slowly pulling her off Minnie.

My mother scoffs at me and rolls her eyes, but as she looks again at Minnie, she smiles brightly,

“Come, child. I can’t wait to know more about you.”

Minnie reluctantly returns the smile.

We step inside the room and take a seat at the table in the middle.

Minnie sits by my side while my mother is across from us.

Just as we make ourselves comfortable, though, a knock resounds at the door and a man dressed in a server uniform comes in with our menus.

I grab Minnie’s hand and squeeze it.

“Could we have a female server this evening?” I ask aloud.

The server blinks in surprise but acquiesces.

“Of course. I’ll have one of our female staff come to attend to you.”

I grunt a thank you.

All the while, my mother is watching me with a wicked glint in her eyes.

“Do you have any food allergies, darling?” Mother addresses Minnie.

She shakes her head.

“Any preferences then?”

“I can eat mostly anything. I can’t eat a lot of meat since it can make me sick, but otherwise, I’m not picky.”

“Really?” My mother’s eyes widen and she looks at me questioningly. “This rascal of mine is the pickiest eater I’ve ever met in my life. How do you put up with it, dear?”

Minnie blinks .

“He’s not picky, though,” she adds in confusion. “He eats everything I cook. He hasn’t refused any of the things I’ve made so far.”

“You cook his meals?” My mother gasps.

“Of course.” Minnie nods in all seriousness. “It’s part of my duties.”

I squeeze her hand tighter. I don’t think this is the time to tell my mother about our arrangement.

“Oh my, aren’t you a little gem!” my mother gushes. “You’re exactly what I envisioned for my son.” She dabs again at her eyes. “You’re so pretty and sweet, and you cook ! I don’t think there’s anything else I could have asked for.”

“I also clean and do laundry,” Minnie chimes in, proud of herself.

I give her a pointed look.

“You do! Good Lord! He let you in his house?”

I shake my head at Minnie. Damn it. I should have instructed her not to say anything about our relationship.

“Of course. We live together,” Minnie answers matter-of-factly.

My mother almost faints at the news. She gasps for air, holding on to her chest as if she’s about to have a heart attack. Tears are streaming down her face and she releases an audible sigh.

“You live together? Oh, dear God, this is absolutely astonishing but so wonderful to hear. Minnie, darling, I’m so happy you’re here today.” More tears. “I cannot express in words the joy I feel at knowing my child has someone by his side. He’s always been so alone…” More sighs.

I flatten my lips as I wait for her theatrics to end. I love my mother, I do. But she can be a bit…much. And while she’s genuine, her way of showing emotion is just too direct for my taste.

“So tell me, how did you two meet? Marlowe never told me anything about a girl until I had to pry it out of Giles. I can’t even imagine him going out on his own to meet someone. He rarely even goes out these days,” my mother continues.

Perhaps Minnie and I should have agreed on a narrative for this dinner. The oversight on my part is unforgivable, but lately, my focus has been otherwise occupied.

“He saved me,” Minnie answers buoyantly.

“He did? My Marlowe?” My mother’s eyes widen.

I sigh.

“Oh, yes. He was so cool. You should have seen him. He was like one of those superheroes from the movies. I’ve stuck by his side ever since.”

“And he allowed it?” Mother raises a brow.

“He offered,” Minnie quips, satisfied with herself.

“This is fascinating,” my mother comments. “I’ve never known Marlowe to be this…altruistic.”

“I’m not,” I mumble.

“Of course you’re not, dear. I know that,” my mother says as she reaches out to pat my hand. “But I’m glad there’s an exception to your surliness.”

I glare at her and remove my hand from the table.

“See, this is what I mean. He’s so…asocial. He always keeps to himself and hates human interaction. Even with his own mother, for God’s sake! All he does is work, work, work. Out of all my children, he’s the one I’ve always worried about.”

“Really? I haven’t seen him work that much. He’s always walking around the house and mumbling things to himself. I assumed he was on vacation,” Minnie adds innocently.

I grimace.

My mother beams.

It seems my loitering didn’t go unnoticed. And here I thought I was being careful about it…

“It’s an uneventful time at work.” I clear my throat as I try to explain.

But it’s in vain. The glint in my mother’s eye tells me she knows exactly what has been causing this .

“He’s really not that bad!” Minnie interjects. “Please don’t think badly of him. He’s the bestest, kindest person I’ve ever met. I don’t even care that he swears too much, or that he’s a clean freak, or that he can be a bit controlling. Did he tell you he saved a puppy?” she adds eagerly. “He did. He’s a hero, Mrs. Spencer-Astor.” Turning to me, she gives me a bright smile. “ My hero,” she emphasizes.

I blink, taken aback by her defense of me.

No one’s done that before.

Ever.

I’ve always been the weird one in the family, and while they accepted me, they never made excuses for me and criticized my eccentricities every time they could. Even my mother, who I know loves me, has never shied away from pointing out my flaws.

This is the first time someone’s focused on the positives instead of the negatives.

And I don’t know how to react.

Heat travels up my neck, and I look away.

Minnie, however, is not deterred.

She continues to smile brightly at me as she seeks out my hand under the table and covers it with hers.

A current of electricity travels from her skin to mine, causing a sweltering heat to take over my entire body. Yet it’s the type of heat I’ve always yearned for. The type of scorching heat that reaches deep within me until not just my body is warm, but also my soul.

My mother watches us closely.

There’s a smile on her face, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She has a calculating look, and I know she’s trying to ascertain whether Minnie’s proclamation is genuine. In her mind, just as in mine, something like this is simply…impossible.

“Minnie darling, I have to ask. Are you with my Marlowe for his money? I do admit he is a good-looking boy, but he is…” She pauses as she purses her lips. “Well, odd is putting it mildly. He’s my son and I love him, but he’s not the dreamy hero you speak of . I should know. I’ve raised that rascal for almost eighteen years. He’s cold and detached, and quite frankly, I don’t see him saving a dog, let alone a human. So please excuse me for being curious about the nature of your relationship and your interest in him.”

There it goes. Straight to the point.

I expected this.

No matter how much my mother might want me to settle down, she also knows why it’s not likely to happen. It’s a hypothetical scenario in her mind—a wish. It’s not something she ever thought would really happen.

Minnie blinks, taken aback by the question.

“No, no,” she quickly answers, waving her hands back and forth. “I don’t care about his money, and I don’t need a lot to live comfortably. Of course I do like that he’s rich.” She nods. “Because that means he can buy me cookies. Lots of cookies. Those things are so delicious, but I never realized how expensive they can get in this world.” She shakes her head to emphasize her disapproval.

My mother stares at her, her mouth agape.

Minnie continues.

“I can cook, but I can’t bake. And the one time I tried, the cookies weren’t as delicious as the ones from the store. But Marlowe’s been very good. He gives me chocolate cookies daily. Rather than being with him for his money, I think you could say I’m with him for the cookies he can provide.” Then she smiles.

My mother stares at her for another moment before she throws her head back and laughs.

“I love her, Marlowe! Cookies, hear that.” She continues laughing.

“But it’s true!” Minnie protests. “Cookies are really the bestest.”

“I can’t fault you there, darling. Cookies are the best.” My mother chuckles.

Meanwhile, the female server comes to our room to get our order and brings over a bottle of red wine. I decline, but Minnie regards the bottle longingly, so I encourage her to have some.

“I’ve never had any before,” she whispers as she takes her glass with both hands and takes her first sip. My mother, too, sips her wine slowly as she studies Minnie and me.

“How is it?” I ask her.

She smacks her lips together a couple of times before she gives me a thumbs-down.

“You don’t like it?”

“I love it!” she exclaims, then proceeds to take another big gulp.

Smiling, I grab her hands and change the position of her thumbs so they’re pointing upward. It takes her a moment to realize she got it wrong, after which she chuckles and moves her thumbs up around in my direction, then my mother’s.

I shake my head at her antics, but she’s too cute, so I don’t mind it. Not one bit.

My mother doesn’t seem to, either. In fact, she seems to like Minnie, which makes my chest tight with emotion. I didn’t realize how much her approval meant until now, but to know that she also likes her carries a lot of weight.

“So tell me then, Minnie. What do you like about my Marlowe? Aside from the fact that he buys you cookies.”

Minnie is still gulping down her wine, finishing her glass and leaning over the table to grab the bottle and fill it up again.

I hope she’s not a lightweight.

“Easy,” I murmur softly.

She gives me a brilliant smile and I don’t have it in me to stop her as she starts sipping on her wine again.

“I like everything about him,” she declares. My eyes widen. “Aside from the fact that he cheated on me,” she mutters in a sour voice as she slams the once-more-empty glass on the table.

“W-what?” I sputter.

I cheated on her?

When? How? With whom ?

“Marlowe cheated on you?” my mother exclaims, horrified. “Are we talking about the same Marlowe? How could he have cheated on you when he’s never so much as looked at a woman before?” She turns to me. “Marlowe, explain yourself!”

Before I can recover from my shock, Minnie speaks.

“He”—she points at me—“was a hoe. His body score is over a hundred!”

She gives me a disgruntled glare and it’s like we’re back to square one.

I stare at her in disbelief. She’s still hung up on that? I thought we moved on from it, for fuck’s sake. Haven’t I already endured days of torturous silence and scathing indifference because of it?

Now looking back, I regret making that joke since it continues to follow me around like a hungry ghost.

“I’m appalled that he’d do something like that,” Minnie continues. “I’ve been pining for him for so long, only for him to do something like this to me?” She stifles a sob.

What the fuck?

Pining?

Since when?

She admitted she’s known of me for years, but she pined for me? Does that mean she’s been following me? Longing for me all this time?

And does that mean that our first meeting was not fortuitous, but rather a calculated one on her part? The idea of it doesn’t enrage me as it should. In fact, it makes me rather warm on the inside.

While I was stalking my victims, I was being stalked in return.

And I never even knew it.

That in itself should bother me. But it only makes me hold Minnie in a higher regard.

For all her bubbly personality and ignorance about the world, she’s quite the scheming little thing.

Fuck. That’s hot .

She can stalk me anytime she wants. But I can’t say that aloud as it would scandalize my mother more than she already is.

Pity. But I’ll make sure to tell her later.

“Marlowe! How could you?” my mother demands sharply, rising out of her chair and placing her hands on her hips.

Minnie crosses her arms across her chest and she tips her chin up at me in a explain yourself now gesture.

Is it wrong that her anger makes me hard?

I look between the two of them and realize I’m caught between two very scary females. And while Minnie’s anger is rather hot and I wouldn’t mind having some more of that, preferably when we’re alone, with a few less clothes, my mother is another issue altogether. She’ll grasp onto this idea and she will not let it go until she goes into her grave. Alas, I fear she might even go as far as to write on her gravestone— poor mother of a shameless cheater. Of course she wouldn’t want to let me live it down even after she’s no longer here.

The worst thing? I’m innocent.

But how the hell do I even begin to tell them that without explaining what I truly meant by my body count?