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“You’re the original quack.”
He draws his brows. “Explain.”
“Nope.” He sits back against the fireplace draining the gin he helped himself to from my father’s richly stocked bar.
“So, if you know it’s just a matter of time before you meet a worthy opponent…” his eyes lift to mine.
Fearless. He’s fearless.
He’s expecting someone to best him at some point. He’s expecting to pay the enemies he’s stacking up with his life and the lives of people he’s associated with, and he lives with this knowledge daily.
They all do.
They are, in essence, soldiers.
I resent the fact that I respect him for it.
Tobias stands and pulls his jacket from the couch. He slips it on with his eyes on mine. I slowly stand, my mind racing as I grapple with all he’s theoretically confessed.
“Safety truly is an illusion,” I conclude, the rest of my blissful ignorance falling away.
He dips his head. “And the most powerful, but once you make peace with it, it’s easier taking bigger risks to seek greater rewards. But that’s no excuse to make a stupid move.”
And it’s the truth. In every aspect of life, safety is an illusion. I can lock this house up tight, but a storm could rip the roof from over my head. I could safeguard my heart and never let anyone in, but I would still feel the pain of isolation. I could make all the right moves every single day of my life out of fear, and with the sweep of the right hand, get wiped off the board altogether.
Every decision we make in life is a move, our opponent invisible. Whether it be the enemy of illness, or the enemy you sleep with, you don’t get that knowledge until the opponent makes itself known.
His logic is that we’re all pawns playing invisible opponents and one wrong move or stupid decision away from revealing our enemy. Simply by inserting myself into this mix of dangerous men, I might have switched up my opponents and lined my life up differently. Up until now, I believed myself to be somewhat immortal, and Tobias just snatched that from me with the truth.
I suppose everyone has this kind of moment, but like everything else I’ve unearthed in the last year, my education came early. He must sense my fear because he takes a step toward me and thinks better of it before he turns and walks out of the room, shortly after, closing the front door behind him.
“Thanks for the dinner and mindfuck,” I mumble, peeking out of the frosted, oblong window next to the front door just as he pulls away in a black sedan. On copilot, I lock the door and set the alarm, and a second after that, the irony hits me, and all I can do is laugh.
I made a bargain with a devil to keep his secret if he kept my father safe, but because safety is an illusion, it makes his end impossible to uphold.
And it occurs to me that my inevitable realization was Tobias’s third move.
His true checkmate.
I shake my head as I warily climb the stairs to my bedroom. “Connard.” Bastard.
Clearing the sleep from my eyes, I stretch out in bed, my latest dream coming back to me in flickered images before it plays out for me. They say dreams are a way for your subconscious to process things you attempt to avoid in waking hours. After years of recalling them, this I wholeheartedly believe. Last night I dreamed of the sun, but it was close, so close I could reach out and touch it. But the heat wasn’t scorching. It was a welcoming warmth. It wasn’t far, just a few steps out of reach. And then the clouds moved in seconds before bursting. I could feel the cool spray on my face just before a rainbow appeared in the distance. A few more steps and I could have reached them.
In a blink, it was gone, and I lay alone in the clearing, looking up at a lifeless sky. It was then my mother called out to me on the wind, to come home, but I ignored her pleas, searching for my missing sun.
A tear threatens as I toss the covers away.
Opening the French doors to my balcony, the morning greets me, a whisper of wind whipping through my hair as I welcome the new summer day. If there’s one thing I’ll miss about living in Roman’s mansion, it’s the view.
It’s the swish of water below that draws my attention to the pool. Powerful masculine arms wade through the water, causing a small, but strong tide in his wake. I hadn’t noticed it before when he’d rolled up his sleeves, but the answer is clear as to why the markings weren’t there now as I take in the deeply etched raven’s wings inked along his shoulder blades confirming his place in the royal lineup. I wish so much that I could rip them away, or somehow disfigure them. He’s not worthy of having two brothers, blood-related or not, who are solely devoted to him.
And the added insult is that he’s magnificent, rippling muscle and smooth skin as he glides through the water fluidly, his muscular legs propelling him across the pool. I take a minute to admire him as he turns to do another lap, his back coiling while the water cascades down his athletic frame.
Powerful, formidable, intimidating, a heartless, soulless predator.
And now he’s invading, intertwining our lives just to prove his point, that temporarily, he owns me.
One of three phones rings where it sits on a waiting towel at the edge of the pool. I recognize two of them as the same model of the burner phones Sean used. I hear a faint “Oui?” before I make my way down to him.
