Page 15

For a split moment, I itched to dart back inside to inform my parents that I was leaving. After that exchange with Manic, I had no plans on sticking around. I was probably overthinking it, but they’d want to know of my departure.

Then I remembered the books, meaning my parents would hound me with questions. Ones that I had no intention of answering, because I had no explanation to give them.

Now that I thought about it, would the coat-check attendant ask me questions? What about the security?

Weighing my options, I’d much rather take my chances with security and send my parents a text from the car. Our driver would come back for them in a few hours, and my flat in the city was only a thirty-minute drive.

My concerns about getting questioned were pushed aside when I retrieved my coat, and no one spared me a second glance. But when I reached the exit, the security guard furrowed his brows, halting my steps with a single hand as he eyed the books. My pulse raced, my hands too sweaty for confrontation.

“What are those?” he questioned.

“I—I…” I don’t have time for this, I wanted to say.

I just wanted to leave.

The temptation to shove the books in his arms and dart out the door was almost too good to pass up. Instead, I smiled, pulled my shoulders back, lifted my chin, and took a slow breath.

Just as I was about to answer, his spine straightened. Well that couldn’t be good. Was he going to let me leave?

“Hold on,” he said curtly, his fingers pressed to his ear, dazed as if listening to an order before sliding back to me. “You can leave, Miss Hale. Your car will arrive in a few minutes.”

He opened the door.

I stepped out and welcomed the cool air kissing my damp skin. I dragged in a long, nervous breath. Now that I was outside and away from the noise, my pulse slowed. I was definitely overthinking my interaction with Manic.

The crunching of tires against gravel hit the air, and the valet gestured me over to my parents’ stretched, black SUV with another warm smile. I returned his smile and walked down the steps.

“Thank you,” I said.

“My pleasure, Miss Hale. Have a good night.”

I slid in, my dress catching on the leather bench in the back, greeted by the cover of darkness. Two more leather benches stretched toward the driver.

I rested my head against the seat and squeezed my eyes shut as the car began its descent down the driveway. When I opened them, I was met with the familiarity of my parents' driver as his gaze flicked to me in the rearview mirror.

Only…

I squinted, focusing on his hands gripping the steering wheel—on his inked fingers, actually. Even at night, I could make out the single letter inked onto his pinky finger as lamp-light swept over the windshield—G.

My pulse skyrocketed. R. Sweat coated my brow. A.

I didn’t need to see the other two fingers to know what it spelled. It was Grave Mortaine, and he was driving my parent’s car. Where was our driver? Why was he⁠—

Adrenaline and fear flooded my veins when a lighter clicked open to my left, a single flame cutting through the darkness before a deep inhale followed. Tobacco seared my lungs, and the red glow of a cigarette had my heart stopping as it cast dim light over Manic’s smooth expression.

My entire body trembled, hair rising on my arms.

His lips curved into an almost sad smile as he released the smoke with a low chuckle and a head shake.

“You know,” Manic drawled. “You’re very easy to frighten and corral into leaving. Very easy to isolate. I’m almost disappointed.”

“What are you doing here? Where is my driver? What—what do you want?” I demanded, though my voice cracked, and my grip tightened around the books. A poor attempt at stifling the shaking in my hands.

Was this because I said I didn’t want to fuck him? Or was it something else? That had never been a problem before, so what changed?

“In the back of the car,” Manic mumbled around his cigarette.

Eyes wide, I shot across the stretched out cabin of the limo, sliding across the bench. Distance. That was what I needed, because I couldn’t decipher his tone—whether he was serious or not. And yet, the implication in it sounded a lot like he was.