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Like hell.
But I keep my mouth shut while Delilah reluctantly picks up the box and flips it open—only to gasp. Her color goes pale.
“Um. What the hell is this?”
I lean over to see what’s in the box.
Then my vision goes almost as red as the velvet inside.
That bracelet.
I know that fucking bracelet.
It’s a bar of rose gold. Its simplicity disguises just how exquisite the craftsmanship is.
A slender chain of rose gold loops around from the bar, turning it from an ornamental piece into a bracelet.
The last time I saw that bracelet, it was on my sister’s wrist.
And it was plain. Unmarked.
Now, it’s been engraved.
Seven Xs, starting from left to right, off-center, with more room on the right, like someone made space to add more.
“Strikes,” Delilah whispers, touching the bracelet with trembling fingertips. “Xs.” Then she jerks her head up, staring at me. “Was that what the red X was? A strike?”
Fury knifes through me as I stagger back a step before I stiffen, straight as an arrow. “You think Ulysses left that? That he was marking you somehow, and not your ex?”
“No clue.” She shakes her head too quickly, dropping her gaze back to the box. “That sounds a little crazy. It doesn’t make sense. Ulysses isn’t a bad guy. Maybe he’s just awkward and this is a really, really bad joke. Probably trying to make me feel better about all the weird stuff happening since I came to town.”
I gawk at her.
Jesus, if that’s what she thinks this is...
“Bullshit,” I snarl. I can’t stop myself—I reach for the box, but Delilah jerks it away, twisting to guard it from me. “Damn it, Lilah. I told you those Arrendells are bad business you don’t want to get tangled up in.”
“You told me that, but I haven’t seen it,” she snaps. “Ulysses has done everything he can to help me get settled in. And he’s actually been trying to find out who killed Emma. Did you even follow up on the lead about the cleaning crew, or were you too busy following me?”
I recoil, shaking my head. “What cleaning crew? What shit has he been feeding you?”
Delilah’s eyes narrow suspiciously.
“He didn’t report it? He hired a cleaning crew the day before, and they were the last ones in the house before I showed up and found Emma’s body.”
I feel like I’ve taken a bullet right between the eyes.
“Fuck no. He didn’t say one word about that, and I’m the first one he should’ve told,” I growl. “It’s a little convenient, don’t you think?”
“Lucas, what are you implying?”
That you’ve been marked, New York.
That it’s happening all over again.
That I can’t stand to see another woman fall down the murder pit of that fucked up freakshow masquerading as a family.
Next Montero will be wanting to meet you in private, and then—
Fuck!
I’ll be watching you run away from me in a red dress.
Right into the arms of a devil.
The words won’t exit my mouth, though.
They’re lodged in my throat like gnarled-up barbed wire.
I can’t tell her I’m afraid for her, that I need to protect her, but not when all the emotions bottled up inside me for years are choking me to death.
“Listen, Lilah, I’m not implying shit,” I snap. “I’m saying you shouldn’t believe a goddamned word Ulysses Arrendell ever tells you.”
She cocks her head, her eyes wide with worry.
“So, what? I should just believe you instead?” Her eyes crackle, all hot blue witchfire as she glares up at me. “Let me tell you something, Lieutenant Graves. I’ve known you exactly five minutes longer than I’ve known him, and neither of you gets to tell me what to think or who to believe. I’m a grown woman with two degrees. All you’ve told me is that you’ve got some weird grudge against them, so I should hate them because you do.” She drops the jewelry box on the desk, her fists curling up as she slams one sandaled foot to the floor. “So take your attitude and your grudges and your paranoia and your stalking and fuck right off, Lucas. Because my life has been crazy enough since I got here, since Redhaven decided it wants to drive me crazy, and you’re just making things worse.”
So fucking much for warning her.
I’m not getting through.
I’m not getting through to her and it’s my own fault. I’m too smothered in this mess of scar tissue to tell her the truth, even if it means keeping her safe.
I learned too hard, too long ago, to keep my mouth shut about things with Celeste. A man can’t undo years of getting that beat into him in one screaming instant.
Not even for this little wildfire burning me down with her get-fucked glare.
“Goddammit, Delilah, if you don’t think it means anything, that bracelet coming after that nasty fucking red X under your window—”
