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He dropped to the floor by my bed and rested his head against the wall before closing his eyes. “I wasn’t, but good to know.”
“I take it you’re staying?”
“You said you shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
“I didn’t expect you to care.”
“It’s my job to care,” he growled.
“Except it’s not,” I reminded him. “It’s your job to care about Apollo. I highly doubt your contract states you’re responsible for the mental wellbeing of his intended bride.”
“What do you want me to say, princess?” he sighed. “Do you want me to say I’m here because I care about you?”
“I thought you didn’t lie if you could help it?”
He opened his eyes and looked at me. “I don’t. I’m here so you don’t do anything stupid like run to Apollo and risk him doing something stupider like running after the Black Bloods like he’s fucking untouchable. I’m here because my contract states I’m responsible for keeping Apollo alive. I can’t do that if he decides to actually play God.”
I looked him over, wishing that wasn’t the only reason he was staying in my room overnight. He didn’t give me anything. His gaze was hard, his jaw was set, and his mouth was tight. Then he closed his eyes again like he was just going to sleep where he was.
“You can at least sleep in Florence’s bed,” I offered.
“Florence would kill me,” was his answer.
“No, she wouldn’t.”
“She would have no qualms doing anything to me, and I wouldn’t lift a finger to her in return.”
“Why not?”
“Because I know what that would do to you.”
I sat there in stunned silence for a moment.
“Go to sleep, Harlow. And let this be the last time I have to sleep on the floor for you. At least for a week.”
I felt a smile rise unbidden and snuggled down in the bed as though that could hide it.
Despite the fear of the events of that night, I felt safe with Valen. It wasn’t long before I was asleep. When I woke up, the only sign he’d been there was the lingering scent of his favourite vape juice.
Chapter Five
The next day when I saw Apollo, we said nothing of the day before. Nothing about him storming off. Nothing about me going to Bieityn. Nothing about Marco’s fight. Nothing that might have made it obvious that either of us knew how Marco got that wound.
It was business as usual, and it felt like we were both going to pains to keep it that way. I knew my reasons, and I tried hard not think about what Apollo’s might have been.
As we walked through the school ground, Apollo slid his hand into mine. “I’ve got to do something tonight. Do you think you could come?”
“What kind of something?” I asked.
He smiled. “Just a…thing.”
“Is this a pearls kind of thing or a jeans kind of thing or–”
“Jeans definitely.”
I smiled at his certainty. “Okay.”
But I wasn’t smiling quite so widely after dinner when Marco pulled up to what looked like a dodgy arse warehouse in the closest industrial town to Bieityn.
