"This feels too much like a fever dream to be real"
MARLEY ROXANNE was wrongfully convicted of a crime. A crime that a twisted alter, the worse part of herself, committed in self defense, an act Marley never participated in. She was used to taking t...
Chapter Twenty Three: "Tell him not to play rock music at my funeral. Or actually, don't let him be in charge of my funeral."
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WIDOW WAS ON THE EDGE OF HER SEAT WITHIN MARLEY'S MIND. The woman could feel her alter trying to gain a hold of the shared mind and most importantly take control of the body. The alter's actions were all happening because no matter how safe she felt with Adrian and Christopher, Marley couldn't control the anxiety settling in the pit of her stomach. When things got too good, it was only a matter of time before life ripped the joy away.
In typical Peacemaker fashion, Chris blared some ridiculous rock music over the loud speaker. John, who was stuck driving, rolled his eyes at the other man's ridiculousness as Chris head banged and played air guitar in time with the tune.
Adrian hand a hand cupped around Marley's thigh, humming faintly under his breath as Marley drew over his exposed hand. She drew a collection of swirls, flowers and love hearts, blowing softly to help the ink dry every few seconds. Adrian didn't budge, he didn't dare move from Marley's soft touch. It almost felt as if he made the smallest movements, she would fall apart like fragile glass.
"Aren't you being a little nonchalant about all this?" John asked over the loud rock and roll.
Chris spun to face the agent, slapping his shoulder sarcastically. "Economos, are you insinuating there is a wrong time and a right time to rock?"
"Tell him not to play rock music at my funeral," Marley murmured. "Or actually, don't let him be in charge of my funeral." A smirk plastered over her chapped lips as a laugh managed to escape her throat. She spared a glance at the man sat next to her.
Adrian stiffly nodded his head before cocking it to the side, eyes squinted. "What music would you want?" he asked. "I picture you being into country."
"Country?" Marley repeated, peering up with a deep frown. Huffing a breath she purposely blew her hair out of her face, hurriedly brushing it over her shoulders before it fell again. "Why country?"
The Vigilante shrugged. "You seem like the type." His heart skipped a beat with fear at the confused look the struck Marley's expression. "What are you into?"
Marley blinked. "I don't know, musical stuff mainly."
"Musicals? Seriously..." Adrian huffed out the words.
"Yeah, is that a problem?"
"Uh, yeah. There are way better genres."
Marley snickered at the playful tone Adrian held. It was sarcastic and so not serious, the complete opposite of what she'd hear before her mother would slap her. "Sure there are. I just so happen to like musicals, all right?"
