“I love a good love story.”
He laughs. “It’s not a love story.”
I let the cane swing over my shoulder, one end meeting the floor, and undo a few of my shirt buttons. Is it hot in here? No? Just me, then. “Tell me a story instead. I have time.”
“Henry’s father was even more insane than you are, no offense.”
I shrug. “None taken.”
“Henry fell in love, but his father had plans for him to marry Iris, Ryan’s mother. Allegedly, he made Henry kill the man. It changed him.”
Yeah, that’ll do it.
“But you were in love with Henry?” I say, twirling the cane.
He laughs. “With Henry? No. I loved Iris.”
“But you said you wanted Henry.”
“I do now,” he says, gritting his teeth.
Interesting. This is why I love gathering information. Sometimes it takes a little digging to find something useful, but when you hit a goldmine …
“So then it’s lust or revenge, or maybe lust and revenge.”
It took a while before Kline would say anything, but after a few sessions with Ethan and me, he’s a trove of information and caustic fairytales.
“Definitely lustandrevenge.”
“Aren’t you kind of old by your society’s standards not to be married already?”
“I was married. My wife died during labor while having our sons. Twins.” His jaw twitches. Is that a lie? I can’t tell. It could be part lie, part truth—the best way to tell a lie. Digging my fingers into his skull, I yank his head back till he screams.
“You’d better not be lying to me, or I’ll have Ethan shove this cane so far up your ass your esophagus will have splinters.”
“You still don’t have Ryan’s answer, do you?” he says, his voice between a cry and a scream.
I release him like he’s a scalding rock.
Claws, claws, claws.
Little feet over my skin.
Dark.
The room tilts.
Heart racing.
“Oh, did I hit a nerve?”
Goddammit. Fuck. Why did I do that? It wasn’t a voluntary reaction. Okay, so maybe it’s been eating at me that Ryan won’t fucking marry me, which is why I try not to think about it. If I do, it’s like an army of screw worms, barreling through my brain. Kline just had to fucking bring that up.
He releases a manic laugh. “You really think taking me off the board makes him yours? Ryan belongs to his father.”
I can’t give him any more than he already got from me. This is why Uncle Jasper never had a weakness, or if he did, he was the master at never showing it. But Kline needs to stop talking his fucking mouth off. I toss the cane, reaching for the knife at my belt. It has a partially serrated blade with a sharp tip. I drag a hand through my sweaty hair, composing myself.
“I can wait until Ryan is ready.”
