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“I’m fine.” I whispered. “But you shouldn’t talk to me. You’ll get in trouble.”
“It’s just, I’ve heard things. This is my first time working one of these events. Money was too good to pass up. And you look…scared.”
“Shh.” I shook my head and grabbed another flute from his tray to make it seem like I was keeping him. “Stop talking. You’re in danger.”
He furrowed his brow. “If you’re in trouble, I know people. Something doesn’t feel right.” He glanced around.
“Go. Now.” I wouldn’t meet his eye.
He shook his head and backed away. After giving me another long look, he continued his round of offering drinks.
The crowd swelled, overdressed people talking, eating, and drinking to the jazz from the band. I went almost unnoticed, pressed up against the cool stones, until I saw a flash of light red hair and heard Cal greeting, “Red, welcome, my friend.”
Red surveyed the crowd, his gaze seizing on me for a second before roving elsewhere. Brianne walked behind him, her head down, her blonde hair hanging in curtains on either side of her face. She was a wreck, even more so than the last time I’d seen her. My stomach sank, and I leaned against the wall for support. The ages-old chill seeped into my bones, and I dreaded Brianne more than Red. Her judgment was far worse than any vitriol Red could spout at me.
Once their introductions were complete, Red dragged Brianne into the mix of people. He glanced at me again, but didn’t seem inclined to engage for once. I sagged with relief and edged closer to the bar, toward Sin.
He was in a close conversation with Sophia. He smiled for her as she touched his arm and whispered something in his ear. Jealousy crept along the periphery of my thoughts, but I already had too many emotions competing for my attention. I hid the shake in my fingers by downing the champagne, setting the glass down, and stuffing my hands into my pockets.
The ghouls swirled around me, their vapid conversations focused on either themselves or the trial. I bowed my head to avoid their rude stares, though I could still hear their comments about my “chances,” and how much fun the Christmas trial had been.
“Hey, Stella.” Gavin approached, the only friendly face I’d seen.
He was like an oasis in a desert of sand and snakes. The warm smile on his gaunt face made tears sting my eyes. His smile faded as he neared.
“What is it?” He smoothed his hands down my upper arms.
“I’m sorry.” I finally said the words I’d been wanting to say since that horrible day in December.
“For what?” The concern in his eyes made me want to vomit. I didn’t deserve it.
I shook my head, willing the tears away. “For what happened to y-you.”
He pulled me into a hug, his arms strong around my back. “That wasn’t you, Stella.” He kissed my hair and whispered into my ear, “It was them. Not you.”
“I know, but it didn’t happen to me. I didn’t get…”
He hugged me harder. “How? Wait, it doesn’t matter. I’m glad. Don’t feel guilty about that. I’ve got your back, remember?”
“I’ve got yours, too. I’m so sorry—” My chest shook, and my unspent tears welled up inside me and threatened to overflow.
“Shh, it’s over now. I don’t talk about it or think about it. It’s done.” He rubbed my back, and I relaxed into him. Despite his words, I wasn’t absolved. But it took some of the weight away to know he didn’t blame me.
“I’m going to get them. I swear it. For you, Brianne, and me. They won’t get away with it.” My voice was a harsh whisper, and I meant every word.
“Let’s just get through it. All I want is to get through it.”
“We will. All three of us will make it.” I nodded against his shoulder.
Letting go, he stepped away and furtively wiped at his eyes. “Have you seen Brianne?”
“Yeah. She came in, but then I lost her. Do you know anything about the trial?”
“Miss Rousseau?” Judge Montagnet moved through the nearest group of people, leaning on his cane as he walked.
Gavin scrubbed a hand down his face and blanched.
“Go. He just wants to torment me,” I said quietly.
Gavin gave me a curt nod and walked away toward the band.
“Judge.” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared into his faded eyes.
“How are you coming along? Recovered from Christmas?” He grinned, one of his bottom front teeth showing a filthy shade of green.
“Fine.” There was no other answer—except the truth. And if I told him how I really was and what I really thought of him, I’d be putting Teddy in danger. So, “fine” it was.
He reached out and pinched my arm. “You seem thinner. Sin not been feeding you well?”
“He has.” Though civil, I kept my words clipped. The sooner he was gone, the better.
