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“I don’t hide,” I lied out of habit.
“You do,” he retorted matter-of-factly. “I’d say it’s a shame you keep such an incredible part of yourself hidden from the people that would understand you the most, but now I know why.”
“You know nothing about me.” I twisted back around and began trying to ease myself off the vanity. “I have no idea what you’re talking about or what is going on, but I need to go. If you go to jail because you got caught doing whatever it is you do here, try not to implicate me.”
His entire demeanor changed. He moved closer and caged my body in by bracing his arms on either side of my waist, wedging himself further between my legs. I ignored how good he felt pressed against me and brought a hand to his chest, applying pressure to keep him from coming any closer.
“Do you how many times that’s happened? Why would I go to jail for something we’ve always gotten away with?”
My mouth opened to tell him to back the fuck up until he spoke again.
“That was Judicium.”
“What?”
“In that barn. It’s something you’re pitifully clueless about.”
Was that an insult? It didn’t really sound like one, but he kept alluding to the fact I was in the dark about whatever this was. He came closer despite my attempt to prevent him from doing so.
Our proximity had my heart beginning to hammer away in my chest.
“Ciaran we--.”
He rendered me into silence by brushing his lips against mine. “You weren’t supposed to be here tonight.”
I stared into his hypnotic blue eyes, searching for answers, disappointed to see they gave nothing away.
“I wasn’t,” I agreed quietly. “But how did you know that?”
“Because your sister wanted me to,” he replied simply.
That stopped me short. Lamia was in on this? Oh, hell no. This couldn’t be true. Of course, on one hand, her involvement made a lot of damn sense. On the other, I didn’t want to believe my beloved sister sent me and my best friends to the escape room from hell.
“It was to protect you,” Ciaran continued as if he had a direct link to my thoughts. “All of you.”
“That’s what you call protecting someone? Sending them to play some screwed-up game that can cost them their life?”
“That wasn’t the game. If anything, it was the preliminary draft pick.”
I stared at him, a million different responses rising to the surface, yet none of them fluent enough for me to vocalize. His eyes slightly narrowed, and he studied me for a few long agonizing seconds, his obscured expression doing nothing good for my nerves.
“I can’t keep talking to you about this, not here and not with you being the equivalent of a newborn. It’s going to fuck your head up. You’ll be no good to me if you’re broken.”
“I’m nothing to you at all,” I refuted.
“We both know that’s not true. You’re just confused.”
“Quit saying that,” I snapped, despite him being absolutely right. I had never in all my life been so fucking lost and confused.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know why the Saintes’ had a plot of land for massacres behind their house, but it went against who I was to ignore it altogether. I couldn’t tell him this, though.
“I think I should just forget this night entirely.”
His responding grin was beautifully sinister. “We both know it’s far too late for that, Puppet” He stepped away from me, and I hated that I missed his body heat. “Finish getting yourself cleaned up. I’ll wait in the bedroom. Everything you need is in the closet over there.”
“Wait!” I reached out and grabbed his arm. “Where is my sister, Ciaran?”
“She’s not here anymore.” He gently removed my hand and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
I was left alone without the luxury of being able to sit and think. I needed to leave this house. I slid off the countertop and went to the closet he’d pointed to. Inside were multiples of the same items, for both guys and girls. It was a little unsettling, to say the least. I hurried to sort through them all, gathering what I would need to make myself look as close to the way I had when I left home.
As I placed everything on the sink and took a hard look at myself in the wideset mirror, what he’d kept calling me settled into my chaotic thoughts.
Puppet?
True to his word, Ciaran was waiting for me in the bedroom. I exited the bathroom feeling somewhat refreshed, but still achy as hell. His eyes lifted from the screen of his cellphone and swept over me from head to toe.
“Not too bad,” he remarked.
“It almost sounds like you prefer me bloodied.”
“I’d rather see you covered in someone else’s blood.”
My steps faltered, a faint smile curving my lips. That was sweetly endearing. “Well, I’m sure when you check those news updates of yours, you’ll find I’ve been covered in my own. My parents are going to kill me.”
