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“Too bad your Dad isn’t the one calling the shots right now,” Lucas replies, still in that cold, menacing tone. “You want to go do something with your free time? Fine. Join a knitting circle. Go skydiving. Join the circus, for all I care. But I can’t have you going around making messes that I have to clean up.”
“But you wouldn’t have to—”
“It’s. Not. Happening.” His voice is starting to rise, and even across the phone line, the anger in it is enough to make me shrink back. “Don’t eventhinkabout going to that interview, Vivian. I don’t want you anywhere near Sterling or his galleries. Do I make myself clear?”
“You’re really not going to let me have a say in this?” I reply weakly, aware of how spineless I must sound.
I can almost hear the grim smile in his voice. “If you had a say, Vivian, you wouldn’t have called me to ask permission.”
And then he hangs up the phone.
“Fuck,” I spit, staring at the phone, and I redial his number without thinking about it. This time, my call goes straight to voicemail, and that’s when it sinks in that he really meant it. This really isn’t happening.
The tears start before I can prevent them, and they aren’t tears of sadness; they’re tears of rage. I’m tired of it, tired of being shut out, tired of Lucas never letting me do anything, tired of never having a voice. I’m tired of every damned thing. And the first face that comes to mind when I finally wipe my cheeks and collect myself isn’t Dad’s, or Mom’s, or even Callie’s.
It’s Theo’s.
I scroll through my phone, and the temptation to call him is almost unbearable, but I hold back. Dad’s warning is still fresh in my mind, and evenIknow that would be asking for trouble. Instead, I settle on the next best thing: a steaming hot bath. Stripping off my clothes and tossing them on the couch, I kick off my heels and start the water, adding damn near a whole bottle of bubble bath. I slide into the tub, allowing myself to relax for a few minutes. It feels good, peaceful, like I’m somewhere with no Lucas, no Theo, no Craig Sterling, no crime. Just blissful hot water.
The sound of movement in the apartment startles me, and my heart jumps into my throat as I sit bolt upright in the bath water. I must have drifted off. Eyes wide, I suck in a breath and listen, my heart picking up speed in my chest. Is it stupid of me to be worrying about someone having broken in? Maybe. But between Dad and Lucas, my head is in pieces, and it pays to be cautious.
The apartment falls silent—not even a gust of wind outside—and I relax a little, starting to think it was just an animal on the balcony. But then it comes again, a heavy banging sound, and that’s when I freak out, standing full upright in the bathtub. In retrospect, it was a bad idea, since I lose my footing immediately on the slick porcelain and fall hard on my hip. Pain shoots up my leg, water sloshing out of the bathtub.
“Shit,” I hiss.
There’s a pause from the living room, and then footsteps… and they’re approaching the bathroom. My stomach drops with fear, and I don’t have time to think rationally. All I can do is scramble out of the tub, oblivious to the fact that I never actually confirmed Theo wasn’t here… or that I locked the door behind me when I came in.
“Vivian?” Theo’s voice is dark behind the door, with an edge of worry that he doesn’t bother to hide. “Are you okay?”
My jaw drops open, my hand falling from my mouth. “Damnit.”
“What is it? What happened?”
“Youhappened,” I mutter, throwing a towel around myself and securing it around my chest. “Scared the shit out of me. I feel like a freaking idiot.”
“What are you talking about?” He’s not amused; I can tell. “I’ve been here all afternoon.”
“Yeah, well, chalk it up to me being on the verge of a nervous breakdown.” I snort. “And don’t even get me started on—oh, comeon,” I groan as I see the line of blood running down my thigh.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just… hit my leg, that’s all.”
There’s a long pause. “You’re more accident-prone than I thought, kid.”
I snort. “Wow. Way to make a girl feel better.” I stalk over to the door and wrench it open; I don’t have much of a choice with my clothes all the way in the other room.
Theo is waiting there, dressed to the nines in business trousers and a white shirt... And I’m standing here in a towel, my shoulders and legs bare, water dripping down my wet hair. There’s a moment, brief but intense, when his eyes travel over my body, and I catch him clenching his jaw before he looks away. I feel a pang of something like disappointment,and I catch my lower lip between my teeth, embarrassed.
“I’ll just... get my clothes,” I mutter, scooting past him, scooping them up from the couch, and pulling them on hastily. Theo keeps his eyes averted, but the tension in his posture speaks volumes.
As soon as I’m decent in a loose t-shirt and pajama shorts, I wince. I’ve already left a nasty trail of blood along the tile floor. “Well, shit.”
Theo turns to me, crossing his arms. “You weren’t kidding, kid,” he says, eyeing the long scratch on my thigh. “Does it hurt?”
“It’s fine.”
“You’re not fooling me,” Theo says. “At least let me help you clean it.”
