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I was going to kill Michael when I got home. I was going to drench his fancy, fucking suit in his own blood for sending her here.
“How did you know I was an architect?” Emmy suddenly asked.
I shot my eyes to Aydin.
He stared at her, looking confused.
“The gift,” she reminded him.
What gift?
“I…didn’t,” he answered. “There’s not much to do here. Figured you’d enjoy drawing.”
He gave her drawing pencils? Where did he get drawing pencils?
He sat there in his expensive black suit and black shirt, all of us dressed and shaved at Aydin’s insistence.
I had to admit, nice clothes made me feel human again, but I didn’t appreciate this prelude to whatever he was planning. Micah, Rory, and Taylor enjoyed the bourbon Aydin gifted to the table, chowing down on their sandwiches and sucking down shot after shot.
Emmy scooped up some soup she made with the entrée, sipping spoonfuls, while I tried to resist the sandwich as much as the alcohol.
I eyed the bottle of liquor, my tongue like sandpaper in my mouth. I wanted the burn of the drink in my throat. I’d been clean for almost two years, but only sober for one, and it was still hard.
I was sure Aydin knew that, and corrupting me was part of his plan.
I pushed the glass he’d offered away toward Micah.
“What kind of work do you specialize in?” Aydin asked her. “Homes? Skyscrapers?”
“Restoration,” she murmured. “Churches, hotels, city buildings…” And then she looked at me. “Gazebos.”
I forced a slight smirk, letting her know that I knew that she knew what I did to hers.
She may not have deserved it, but…
Okay, yeah, she kind of deserved it after she laid waste to my fucking heart. I wanted to break something of hers, too.
Fuck it. I was drunk and pissed that night.
“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Aydin told her.
She half-smiled, looking around the room. “Think they’d mind if I cleaned the place up a bit?”
“You already do.”
She laughed, and I swore I saw a blush cross her cheeks.
She continued drinking the broth, and I cocked my head, studying her.
She was flushed. Why?
“So did Will ever tell you about Devil’s Night?” she asked him. “We celebrate it in Thunder Bay. It’s coming up, actually.”
Then she looked at me, leaned back against her chair, and pulled at the collar of her shirt like she was hot.
I tensed. Something was off about her right now.
“In fact, I hear one of his best friends is getting married that night,” she said to him, but really to me.
