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“What happens when they find him dead?”
“I sent a message to Kipton Donahue letting him know if he planned on sending any more men to spy on me, he’d better make sure they were capable of defending themselves when they got caught. He doesn’t have to know anything about you being there.”
“You think Kipton sent him?”
He opened the cabinet under the sink and grabbed the first aid kit. “I know he did.”
“Do you think there are more like him?” My words were slow and broken, terrified.
Grey grabbed my hands and turned them over, palm up. He’d washed his hands while I was in the shower. They were no longer stained with the other man’s blood. He twisted the cap off a tube of ointment then looked me in the eye. “You’re a lot safer in here than you are out there.” He spread the ointment on his fingertip, then dabbed it over the cuts on my hands. “Maybe now you’ll understand that.” His voice was calm but still exuded so much raw power. “I’m not here to hurt you.” His jaw clenched. “Get dressed then go to bed. We’ll talk more when you wake up.”
I wasn’t sure how long I slept, but when I woke, my room was already warmed by the light of the sun. I couldn’t explain it but I was no longer overwhelmed with the need to run. Maybe it was the fear of what else was out there. Maybe it was the security of knowing what was in here. Grey wasn’t going to hurt me. If he were, he would have done it last night. I gave him every reason. Instead he handled me like a fragile keepsake. The same hands that were capable of taking a life, found me broken, carried me home and put me back together.
Grey was terrifying. I had no doubt he was dangerous.
But he wasn’t dangerousto me.
I got dressed and headed downstairs to find Grey in the library. As promised, he explained who the Obsidian Brotherhood was and what role he played. Apparently, there was a secret society started a long time ago by five old, rich guys who considered themselves puppet masters—and we were the puppets. Everything that was anything had to pass through what they called the Tribunal. Laws. Media coverage. Financial developments. Even war. All of it was meticulously controlled by the leaders of this society. There were other players in the game, but only those who came from the original five bloodlines—known as the Tribunal—held enough power to make a difference. Grey was one of those five. His father was dead, making Grey—at twenty-seven years old—the youngest member of the Tribunal. And from what I’d seen last night, every bit as brutal as Caspian said he was.
Caspian also belonged to one of the five bloodlines. His great grandfather founded the Brotherhood, and one day, he would reign over their kingdom of corruption and greed. The thought of Tatum being anywhere near any of that made my stomach churn. Even though her last name gave her no other choice. I wondered if she knew what kind of world her father had thrown her into. I hoped Caspian would continue to protect her from it. I prayed he wasn’t like his father.
I almost threw up when I learned that Lincoln was also one of the five. Eventually, he would take his father’s place on the Tribunal. He would be just like one of those men, one of the men who took me.
What did that mean for me? Would I see him again? Would he find out the truth?
In five years, he would be twenty-five, which according to Grey was when the men were expected to attend Judgment Day. Would Lincoln go? Would he have to sit in that room and choose a wife? Or would he refuse the same way Grey had?
He would have to. The Obsidian Brotherhood called all the shots.
“For now,” Grey said. “But not forever.”
“What does that mean?”
He smiled, then walked over and leaned against the door frame. “I think that’s enough information for one day.”
And then he left me alone with my thoughts and a glass of whiskey that I had no intentions of drinking.
Hope. Sometimes it was a tiny seed planted to blossom into something bright and beautiful. Sometimes it was a fragile thing that shattered and splintered at your feet when it didn’t come through.
Not forever.
Two simple words that would either blossom inside me or tear me apart.
