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Lydia doesn’t want to eat before we leave. I can’t blame her. I badly want to delay this trip home.
But won’t make it any easier.
From here, things can only get worse for both of us. I have the feeling that when we get out of Gabriel’s SUV, that’ll be it. He’ll vanish into New York’s social scene, and I’ll wake up every morning and check the news. That’s how I’ll find out that he’s killed my parents or exposed my father’s crimes or sent all the members of the consortium to prison.
Gabriel waits at the front door, hands in his pockets, when we come down. “Ready?”
No.
“Yes,” Lydia says. “Thanks for letting us stay here last night. My dad would have been tough to deal with that late.”
“You’re welcome.” He doesn’t look at me. “I was happy to do it.”
He’s not happy to drive us through the city and out toward my parents’ house. He doesn’t look particularly angry, either. Gabriel puts on the calm, distant expression he wore last night.
With Lydia in the SUV, I can’t ask him what he’s thinking about.
Murder, probably. Revenge.
Or maybe he just misses his parents. Gabriel doesn’t say a word on our way through familiar streets. He never seems to look very closely at the houses my parents’ friends used to live in. Still live in, for the most part. But his shoulders tense. They don’t let back down.
We reach the front gate. Gabriel rolls down his window, and a guard approaches.
“It’s just a normal day,” whispers Lydia.
I give her a shrug, though I don’t love the presence of the guard. Usually, they only wait at the gate during large events.
“Morning, sir. Can I help you?” The guard glances in through Gabriel’s window.
“I’m dropping off Lydia and Elise.”
Dropping off.Notbringing home.
I don’t know this guard, but he seems to recognize us. He waves Gabriel through. Lydia sits up tall next to me, her face pale. She looks incredibly young without her dark eyeliner, in soft, dove-gray clothes meant for Remy. There’s nothing to obscure the bruise under her eye. It’s not very dark, but it’s visible.
Driveway.
Circle drive.
We’re here.
Gray clouds hang in the sky above the mansion, blocking out the sun. It’s morning, but you wouldn’t be able to tell by the strange light. Gabriel comes around and opens my door, then helps me out of the SUV. A cold, damp breeze is my first welcome back to the house. It feels like rain.
Lydia next.
Gabriel half-turns, looking up at the house. Then his eyes settle on me.
They’re a stormy green, reflecting the clouds. A painful pull hooks in my ribs and tries to jerk me toward him. It’s like the sound of my kitchen timer going off. I can’t help but respond.
Except I can’t respond to Gabriel. I pushed him away last night. I’m not sure if it hurt him or surprised him. Or both. Or neither.
I know you’re doing this because you think you have to.
I don’t.
“Do you want me to come inside with you?” he asks.
More than anything. The only thing that would be better is if he staged a last-minute kidnapping and took us the hell away from here.
