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“Because there’s not much to tell.”

“Is he still alive?”

I gave her a long stare, my heartbeat suddenly absent. Her eyes were so bright, reflecting the beautiful day, and they were absorbing everything around her, including my darkness. “No.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I couldn’t care less, so don’t be.” I meant it with every fiber of my being, felt more hatred than my body could contain. Just thinking about him made me angry, and it was too beautiful of a day to be so angry.

“Is he the reason your mother was—”

“This discussion is over.”

Her chin immediately dropped, and her eyes were on her food once more. “I’m sorry. I just…I just want to know you.”

“Trust me, you don’t.”

Her head lifted again. “I’ve heard it all, Cauldron. My clients confess their deepest and darkest secrets all the time. Nothing you could say would faze me.”

When I pictured some faceless man beside her in bed, smoking a cigar or drinking a scotch after a night of passion, it made me angry. Imagining a connection strong enough to make them confide their darkest fears made me even angrier. Picturing her with anyone, in any context, made me angry.

She knew me well enough now to pick up on my silent hostility. Instead of apologizing, she abruptly changed the subject. “Thanks for coming out with me today. It’s nice to do stuff with you, other than…you know.”

Fucking. “I’ll always uphold my end of the deal and keep you safe.”

She looked down at her food again. “Yeah…I know you will.”

TWENTY-THREE

CAMILLE

“Cami, where is it?” She sat at my bedside, the lamp on the nightstand illuminating her beautiful face. Her hand went to my wrist, where she gave me a gentle squeeze. “Cami?”

My hand immediately went to my throat, feeling for the necklace that wasn’t there. I was a small child in a twin-size bed, my duvet cover a rose pink. There were posters on my walls of horses and boys.

“Cami?”

“I-I had it.”

“Where is it now?”

My hand slid down my chest and dropped into my lap. “He–he took it from me.”

“Why did you let him take it?”

I started to cry.

“Why did you let him take you? Why did you let all those men take you?”

“Mom…I’m sorry.”

She pulled her hand away. “I’m so disappointed in you.”

Now I sobbed.

She left my bedside.

“Mom, I’ll get it back.”

She moved to the bedroom door.

“Wait…wait.”

The lamp went out. The bedroom was dark. And then…there were things. Things in the dark. “Mom…” They came at me, moving all at once, ready to pull me down to hell where I belonged. “Mom!”

I jerked upright in bed and clasped at the necklace that wasn’t there. I was coated in so much sweat, I felt slippery against the sheets. I climbed out of bed and tumbled to the floor, and I felt my back hit the wall with a thud.

My bedroom door flew open. “Camille?”

I screamed at the sight of him, holding a shotgun across his bare chest.

He did a quick walkthrough of the bedroom, checking the bathrooms and then the windows for intruders.

I hyperventilated on the floor against the wall, his dark figure just like the monsters in my nightmare. My dreams and reality merged into a haunting existence. I gripped my chest to make sure my heart continued to beat, and I felt it race as if it might explode.

Cauldron put the gun down on the table and came to me on the floor. “Are you okay?” One hand went to my thigh while the other grabbed me by the arm.

I slapped him away. “Don’t touch me.”

He abruptly pulled his hands away and left them hanging in the air. “What happened?”

I continued to pant deep and hard. Hot flashes came and went. My knees came up to my chest. “Nightmare…”

He watched me for a while before he leaned against the wall beside me, arms on his knees, wearing nothing but his boxers.

I breathed and breathed until the remnants of the dream finally faded. The monsters felt so real, like hyenas descending on an injured animal to feast. They didn’t have faces, didn’t really have appearances, but they were terrifying.

Cauldron turned to look at me. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I could still see her face, her earnest face as she gripped my wrist. “My mother…she asked for her necklace. I didn’t have it.”

“What necklace?”

“A necklace she gave me when I was young…” I stared at the bed that I’d toppled out of. “I don’t have it anymore.”

“You lost it?”

“No…he took it from me.”

His features slowly hardened as he realized of whom I spoke.

“He took it so I wouldn’t leave. It worked for a while. But then I realized I had to escape, even if that meant I had to leave it behind. I tried to go back and get it, but…that didn’t work.”

His handsome face was set in darkness, his eyes quietly angry.

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