Firstlife
Page 68

 Gena Showalter

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
My knees go dangerously weak. “I could admit I didn’t like being parted from you.”
He gives me the slow, wicked smile he first unveiled in the asylum. “Could you, or do you?”
“I do.” I lean into him, breathe him in. I’ll never get enough of his scent.
James approaches—again—and clears his throat. Was he always this annoying?
Without looking away from me, Killian grabs him by the tie and shakes him. “Go. Away.”
James slaps at his hand like a bitch but it does no good. “I have a gift for you, Ten.”
“Tenley,” I snap. “And you can stuff your gift—”
A smiling Sloan peeks over his shoulder. “Actually, I think you’ll want to keep this one.”
Chapter twenty-one
“There is no line we won’t cross to get the job done.”
—Myriad
I push James out of the way and throw my arms around Sloan, so happy to see her I could cry. Who am I kidding? I am crying.
“Thanks for ruining my makeup,” I tell her.
“Anytime.” With a laugh, she pulls back and twirls. “Tell me you’ve never seen a more glorious sight and mean it or I’ll hate you forever.”
“I’ve never seen a more laborious sight. There. Did I say it correctly?”
She flips me off, but she’s still smiling. A scarlet dress adorns her body all the way to her knees, where the material flares and flits with her every movement. Her pale hair is swept to the side of her nape in an elegant knot of braids.
She waves a finger from the top of my head to the bottom of my heels. “Even with the mascara streaks, you’re a hot tamale. If I were into girls, I’d give Killian a run for his money.”
I snort. “You just won a little piece of my heart.”
“Like I didn’t already own one hundred percent.”
“I’d love a chance to—” James begins.
Killian punches him in the throat, causing the Shell’s voice box to collapse. Suddenly all James can do is flap his lips open and closed, no sound emerging.
I pat Killian’s cheek. “My night just got better. Thank you.”
Grinning now, he leans in to kiss my ear. He whispers, “I want you to choose Myriad, but I want you to want to choose the realm. I’m not going to pressure you, and I’ll prove it.” He traces his fingers along my arm, causing goose bumps to rise. “Take Sloan to your room.”
What? “No. I don’t want to leave you,” I whisper back.
“I’m going to keep Pearl occupied. There’s something you need to see.” He kisses my cheek and lifts his head.
My heart thumps against my ribs. Do I need to see a good thing or a bad thing?
“Ugh. Enough lovey-dovey crap already,” Sloan says.
I force a smile as I face her. “Why don’t we go to my room and get away from all this noise? We can catch up.”
“Nutter, that’s the best offer I’ve had all day. Which is saying something!” She links her arm with mine, adding, “That guy over there wanted to—and I quote—teach me the meaning of ecstasy.”
“So lucky,” I say drily. I meet Killian’s gaze, silently telling him, Stay close.
His gaze says, Nothing will keep me away.
All right. Time to concentrate and figure out what he wants me to see upstairs. I lead Sloan away, saying, “Have you signed with Myriad?” Why else would Pearl allow her to come?
“No, ma’am. When we parted, I hit the road with Deacon, thinking my first order of business would be destroying my family once and for all.”
“Right.”
She stiffens, adding, “They were so broke they couldn’t afford my stay at Prynne, so...they made a deal with Vans. While he convinced me to marry the man they’d picked out for me, he could have me anytime he wanted, as long as he didn’t get me pregnant. I kept thinking my prospective groom would grow tired of waiting for me and marry someone else, and I’d finally be freed, but he never did.”
My hand flutters over my heart. “Oh, Sloan. I’m sorry.” The words aren’t good enough.
“Guess I’m worth waiting for,” she says, every word sharp enough to cut.
“I had no idea what you were going through.” And I’d only added to her problems.
When we reach the top of the stairs, she says, “No one did, which was the way I wanted it. I hated him, hated the times he...visited me, and I don’t think I could have lived with the humiliation if everyone knew what was happening.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again. What a horrible existence.
She waves the words away, the motion clipped. “Anyway, I fired my ML Elena for her attitude problem.”
“You mean you fired her because she wouldn’t do everything you demanded the second you demanded it?”
“Exactly. I love that you know me so well.” She beams at me. “Anyway. My case was given to James. He was invited here, and he asked me to join him. I decided destroying my family could wait another day or two so I could see my friend.”
A friend. I have another friend, one I made all on my own. A human who understands my predicament.
There’s a crowd of people milling about on the second level, so we have to push our way through. Someone waves at us. Others smile. We just keep trucking. When a couple drunkenly spills out of my mother’s room, I have to swallow a curse...but I can’t swallow the next one.
“No way. This isn’t happening.” I stomp to them—calm, remain calm—and barely manage to stop myself from chewing off their faces. “You don’t go in that room ever. Ever! Do you understand?”
Sloan grabs my shoulders and pulls me back. “Fits of temper can wait.”
“I mean it.” I scan the rest of the faces around me. “No one goes in that room.”
People rush downstairs. Good riddance!
A guard is posted at my bedroom door. A big, beefy guy with a mean scowl. But he opens the door as if he knows me. As if he’s been waiting for me.
I grin and bear it. For now. “No one goes in the other rooms.”
He nods. “Your command, my honor.”
I like his readiness to please, but I kind of hate it, too. I’m not who he thinks I am.
Once inside the bedroom, I shut the door with a hard kick and Sloan flips on the light.
“Take a breather,” she says, “and calm down.”
My heels clink against the hardwood floor as I walk to the bed. I plop on the edge and sigh. Last time I was in here, Archer and Killian snuggled me.
I want to be snuggled again.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but...this place is kinda sterile,” Sloan says, her lips curled in distaste.
“A decorator selected everything, and I was expected to keep it clean.” A room should be a sanctuary, but mine became a gilded cage over the years.
There’s a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice. What Killian wanted me to see?
I pop the bottle’s cork and pour the contents on the white rug at the end of the bed. Last time I had alcohol, I got stupid. Well, stupider.
Sloan laughs. “You dirty the carpets while I plan to torch an entire house. How do we even like each other?”