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The smile fades and turns down. His gray eyes peer at me, looking for truths I’m not willing to give. It’s bad enough that I moved in with them, but if he thinks having me under his roof means I’m suddenly going to crack open my chest and show him the bruises on my soul, he has another thing coming.
At another time in life, I would’ve spread my legs for a single night with this dangerous man. But that would’ve been it, and it would’ve been a disaster.
It’s just hard to reconcile the low simmer of attraction I have for him with his obvious, overbearing love for my sister and their children. Not that I’mjealous, per se, but I wouldn’t exactly mind if they kept their PDA in the bedroom.
“Why’d you insist on coming, then?”
I glare at Elia, hating how parenthood has convinced him and Caroline that they need to be my surrogates. Their constant concern and worry grates on my nerves, nails on the chalkboard of my soul. I want to declaw them, cut their fingers off so they can’t control me.
“I don’t know. Sometimes people do stupid shit.”
Cocking an eyebrow, he leans back in his seat. Neither of us acknowledges Benito’s presence, but he doesn’t care; he just sits, staring ahead, silent. Watching, working. “Speaking from experience?”
I shrug. “I am known around King’s Trace as the fuck-up Harrison. Do the math.”
“No one thinks of you as a fuck-up.” His voice softens, the creases at the corners of his eyes relaxing. “Just a little… lost.”
Snorting, I pick at my napkin, hating how the assessment hits the target right on the fucking head. Not that anyone seems to be searching for me. “How is that better?”
“Lost people can still be found. They have the chance to return home.”
“And those who don’t want to be found? Those who set off on journeys by themselves, looking for adventure andlife? What about them?”
His head tips to one side, stormy eyes narrowing as he studies me. He’s the only man in the building not wearing a mask, as if his very presence negates the dress code. As if we need to be aware of who he is at all times. “Is that what you’re doing? Looking for an adventure?”
I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.My life has veered far from its original track, and I forgot to leave breadcrumbs. “I’m just looking.”
“Nothing wrong with that, I suppose. So long as you know what it is you’re looking for.” I squint at him, watching him reach a hand up and smooth it over his five o’clock shadow. “Do you, Juliet? Have you got it all figured out?”
“I’m working on it.”
He taps the table twice, his jaw dropping as if he wants to say more; instead, he nods at Benito once, smacking the table more forcefully with his palm as he stands. “Don’t wander off. I don’t want to have to send Gia after you again.”
“Why don’t you and Caroline just get me a leash?”
“Watch it, smart-ass. In case you were unaware, our daughter has a leash, and I’m sure your sister is one crazed hormone away from buying an adult-sized one for you.”
He stands, tossing me a wink; as he maneuvers through the ballroom, the crowd parts in his wake, afraid of getting the stain of murder on them. Or perhaps afraid of getting in his crosshairs.
Glancing around, I realize the guy with the golden mask has disappeared. Desire flees my body, and I slump lower in my seat, reaching for the wine chilling in an ice bucket at the center of the table.
Benito adjusts his collar as I wrench off the cork and pour the rest of the bottle into the glass, but he stays silent. Of course. No one ever wants to halt my self-destruction.
No one ever looks at me long enough to see it.
I sip on the wine, loving the bitter taste it leaves against my tongue, and watch Elia spin Caroline around the dance floor. He whips her out in a controlled sweep, careful not to harm her, and then winds her back into his arms. She smiles up at him, and he tilts her chin with one hand, bending to capture her lips in a tender, passionate kiss.
His free hand settles on her rounded belly, evidence of their perfect little life that I’m only encroaching on. Staining. Breaking just by being in their presence.
My stomach flips, nausea rising like a high tide; I spit my drink back into the glass, tear off my mask and let it drop to the table, excusing myself in a rush to the bathroom. Clutching my abdomen with one hand, I shove the door to the ladies’ room open with the other, pausing for the briefest moment as my gaze connects with the piercing green eyes from before.
I don’t have time to really register the scene before me, because the nausea can’t wait; it bubbles up into my throat, pushing its way through, and I spew on the floor as the door swings closed.
Swiping across my mouth with the back of my hand, I take a step away from the beige puddle at my feet and drag my eyes up to his, still encased by his mask, the breath catching in my chest.
The girl from his table, the one in the short red dress with the massive tits, is on her knees in front of him, sucking his dick like her life depends on it.
Although, I suppose she’s not really doing the work; his long fingers are twisted into her hair, propelling her back and forth on his cock, hips pistoning with each movement.
