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I shivered, his words affecting me still.
“You should wear a jacket,” Gabby said, pulling me out of the past.
“You sound like him,” I commented insolently. “Telling me what to do.”
“I’m sorry,” she replied. “That wasn’t my intention.” I exhaled, feeling badly. It wasn’t fair of me to talk harshly to Gabby because she had no defenses. It was like hitting a turtle without a shell. Before I could apologize, she asked, “What are you thinking about?”
“The first time we met,” I replied, lying a bit. Gabby sat next to me on the balcony, nose reddened by the winter cold. When she’d first shown up, I’d been sitting on the bed, having just nearly been raped, in a tattered periwinkle dress that earlier in the night I’d compared to a fairytale.
This isn’t a fairytale, Frankie. I shook my head at the words that popped into my head, taking a sip of hot chocolate. Still, memories continued to run through my head like a movie on projection. So much happened in the short thirty minutes Gabby had come to treat me.
I’d found a comrade in arms in Gabby, in her bruises, and in the lies she told to survive. There wasn’t cowardice in her dishonesty, there was honor in it. Lies were the only way she’d survived four years as a child bride, and she taught me that I could survive that way too. It wasn’t the type of lying you do when you cheat on a test. Gabby showed me lies would be my armor. Soon I would lie so much, I wouldn’t know who I was. If the real Frankie died, he could never get to me. I looked at Gabby, wondering who she had been four years ago, and shivered again—maybe because of the cold, but probably not.
Gabby watched me shiver as if she wanted to say something, but instead asked, “Can you keep a secret?”
I raised a brow. “Even if I couldn’t, who am I going to tell? The Beast?” As if we shared so much. “Picture that.”
“Good point.” Gabby scooted closer to me on the patio. “I’m pregnant.”
I raised a brow. “Is that good news?” I imagined the Beast’s baby inside of me. Just the thought of it had me tightening the grip on my dove gray sweater.
“You asked me the other day why I didn’t run. I think I will run now.” Gabby touched her stomach. When she’d come to me I’d wondered why she didn’t just run away. I had Papa to think about, but Gabby? Why didn’t she just flee?
“It was nice to know you, Gabby,” I said. “Even for a little while.”
“I’m not leaving just yet, but still, before I go, you need to know—there are cameras.” She reached for the pitcher of hot chocolate again. “They all have them.” I froze. So he could see me, right now? He could see me all the time? I thought about everything I’d ever done and dismay washed over me. I was never alone.
“Don’t worry.” Gabby touched my arm upon seeing my face. “There aren’t any cameras out here. There is one in your room. It faces the bed, because of course it does right?” She laughed. “Once you know what to look for you’ll see them everywhere. They look like shiny black bugs.”
“So he heard everything we talked about? When you came to visit me the first night?” We’d talked about such private things. I know it’s ridiculous to expect privacy, but she’d let me in on such a huge secret. She’d told me how Gabriella was what the men called her but Gabby was her true name. With fairies and other mythological creatures, the only way to kill them was by learning their true name. It was a closely guarded secret, and when she’d told me her name, I’d felt as though she had let me in on hers. Maybe it was dumb, but I felt privileged. Why would she—
“They don’t have sound,” Gabby said. Oh.
“Where is it l
ocated?” I asked.
“The painting.” I nodded again, trying to stymie the nausea creeping over me. I remembered how Gabby had looked at the painting and it made sense. I loved that painting. Much like most of the Beast’s paintings, it was abstract. Many nights I couldn’t sleep and I stared at that painting. The longer I stared, the more the haphazard and aimless strokes took form.
Of course it was tainted.
I hadn’t read the journal in a few days, but that first time, the time Nikolai commented, I had hidden it under the mattress. Had the Beast seen? How could he not have?
Nausea twisted in my gut.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Gabby said. “Don’t worry about the cameras. Really. There are much worse things to worry about.” She added the last bit quietly, almost as an afterthought.
“We’re all out of hot chocolate,” I said numbly, standing to my feet. “I’ll go get more.” Gabby gripped my arm, a fierce, frightened look coming over her features.
“You should really let your boy do that,” she said.
My features twisted. “My boy?”
“The blond one.”
“Nikolai?” I asked. “I can get my own hot chocolate, thanks.” I tried to shrug her off but she wouldn’t let go. “Let me go, Gabby.” I twisted in her hold and eventually she released me, reluctance written across her face as if she knew she couldn’t stop me. Her voice drifted over my shoulder as I walked through the patio doors.
“He won’t be happy…” It was haunted, and it nearly stopped me, but I shook my head and kept going.
