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“Sorry? You get to live out your life in Sterling Bay, removed from all this. Ace, Cole, and Conner will never have to sacrifice their lives for some… cult.”
James flinches. “There are still things you do not understand. Sacrifices my family made…”
“Yeah, I’m sure it was very hard, running away.” Bexley shoots up. “I need some fresh air.” He glances at me, regret shining there. “I’ll be in the car. James, I’d say it’s been nice to see you, but really, it hasn’t.” He stalks off, leaving me alone with James Jagger.
Silence hangs between us, and then I say, “All I want to know is how we get out of this.”
His expression hardens, and then he says the two little words I’ve feared since this whole thing started.
“You don’t.”
James settles the check, and we walk out of the diner side by side.
“I really am sorry, Mia.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I will talk to Marcus. The stubborn old fool is too blinded by the past to realize what’s staring him in the face. I know it feels like you’re alone in this, but I promise you that you’re not.”
“Thank you.”
My head feels like it’s going to explode from all the revelations. Except, they weren’t really revelations, only more pieces of a never-ending puzzle.
“Tell Bexley I said goodbye.” James gives me a stiff nod before slipping into his black SUV.
I watch him leave before going to Bexley’s car and climbing in.
“Are you okay?”
“Nothing about this is okay,” he grumbles, firing up the engine.
The ride to Gravestone is quiet, the air thick and heavy with our conversation with James. Bexley is on edge, a dark storm circling him.
“Bexley,” I say softly, trying to coax him out of his bad mood. His fingers curl tighter around the steering wheel.
“Bexley, look at me.”
His eyes flick briefly to mine, two black orbs full of so much anger it stuns me.
“We’ll figure it out.” Even though I know it’s futile. There is no winning against Quinctus or the Electi. We are pawns in their game, and we have no choice but to follow the play.
I am Cade’s prosapia.
One day, I will be his wife.
One day, I will bear his heirs.
A shudder rolls through me and I blurt out, “Stop the car.”
“Mia?” Panic coats Bexley’s voice.
“Stop the car,” I cry.
I can’t breathe. I feel like the air is being sucked from the car until my lungs burn.
Bexley swerves into a rest area and cuts the engine. “Mia?”
“I hate this.” My hands collide with the window. “I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.”
