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“I just can’t believe he lied to us. Did all those things.” He shook his head. “I just don’t know how to feel. He was so cool and took care of us.”
I got what he was saying, and if I was being real, I was feeling conflicted too. He’d been the only one I could trust, and he had taken care of us.
But he’d just done so many dark things.
I didn’t know if those occurrences were of the past, a history of a man who’d done the wrong thing and, today, had tried to be different. He’d only been kind to my brother and me, and with my own family history I’d learned, I wasn’t so sure if it was fair to damn him.
I wasn’t sure if things were so black and white.
These were thoughts and things I’d have to deal with, and I added them to the laundry list I seemed to be compiling these days.
“I want to respond and at least tell him we’re okay.” Bru’s jaw moved. “Only if that’s okay with you, of course. I don’t know if we can trust him, but I at least want to thank him. He was just so cool with us.”
It seemed my brother was conflicted too, and he had been closer to Callum than I had. I rubbed his arm. “You don’t need my permission.”
“I don’t, but this is all fucking crazy, especially for you, and I need to know you’re okay.” He sighed. “I’ll only talk to him if it’s good with you.”
I appreciated him doing that, and I told him that right as someone knocked on the door. I got up to answer and definitely wasn’t prepared.
The dark prince had bags on his arms.
Two dark duffels hung off broad shoulders, his head snapping up. He pulled tendrils of his golden tresses out of his eyes, and though he’d knocked, he’d distanced from the door like he hadn’t expected it to open. “Hey.”
One word. One stupid freaking word, and my body ceased to function. I had thought I’d slam the door in his face the next time I saw him.
He’d been so cold.
The chill had physically emanated off him, and what few words he had said had come off completely passive aggressive. Like he was pissed at me when he had no right to be. I hadn’t been the one who’d lied and definitely shouldn’t be punished for it.
But I was being punished, consumed by him. I wanted to yell at him, but all I was doing was staring at him. His slouchy tee hit hard against his firm body, his denim jeans tapered at his waist and hugging thighs the size of about two boys his age. He had them cuffed and bunched above his military boots, but it never seemed to matter what he wore. He was still ridiculously beautiful, and here I was in shorts and an oversize tee, fully clothed but exposed.
Naked.
I felt bare in front of him, stripped down to nothing more than feelings and girly emotions. He kept doing that shit, and I hated I couldn’t breathe.
“I brought you some clothes.” He presented the bounty in front of me, one bag, then two when he lowered them to the floor. He righted to towering height. “They’re your own clothes. I had Thatcher run over to your house and get them this morning. Don’t know why he didn’t do that the first time.”
Probably because he didn’t want to get caught doing something that could connect him to anything having to do with me and where I was. I’d been thrown yesterday when he said he was going to get my own paints and other gear for me from my house. I’d been making do with the craft store stuff he’d picked out for me, but it hadn’t been ideal. He’d known that, but I’d never told him he had to get my stuff.
I had a feeling the gift was going to be his last-ditch effort to get me to come clean, and I did hate he had to keep my secret for me. I’d gone to see Bow about it first, but he caught me before I could find her.
I suppose I probably shouldn’t have gone to ask her in the first place. All this stuff and what I was going through was my burden, not theirs.
Bru cut in beside me, and when he witnessed me, the bags, and Dorian, he frowned.
“Morning, Prinze,” he said, cold himself. He definitely knew how Dorian was and the lies the dark prince had told me. I’d cleared up some of them last night before we’d gone to bed, but I couldn’t do them all. I mean, there were still lies he’d told me. Bru angled a look down. “What’s this?”
“Clothes.” Dorian’s attention didn’t leave me, and a wash of molten lava seared through my soul, my flesh. He glanced at Bru. “Your own clothes. Had Thatcher get them.”
“Hmm.” Bru didn’t leave my side. “Well, thank you.”
He was dismissing him and definitely being rude about it. Honestly, he was probably doing the job I should be doing.
Then why don’t you do it?
Probably for the same reason I couldn’t stop looking at him.
Dorian pushed his hands into his back pockets. “Well, breakfast is ready. We got it all set up downstairs on the first floor, and you don’t have to worry about anything. I had the house cleared so no one will be bombarding you or anything.”
