Page 70 of Bloom (Black Rose)


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“I know that. And I know you’re better off without him. You’ve always been better off without him. But still…I feel badly. I feel badly because you were planning this lovely wedding, and now you’re alone.”

I open my mouth to tell her that I’m not alone, but then I close it abruptly.

I have to end things with Hunter.

Crap. I told him when I left that it wasn’t over. I just needed to get away, and at the time, that was true.

But now? Knowing my sister and her fiancé, as well as my ex, go to that club?

I can’t ask Hunter to choose between me and the club. I can’t. I don’t believe in giving a partner an ultimatum.

But I can’t go back to the club, knowing I may run into my ex or my sister. It’s just too…icky.

I was looking forward to exploring more of the club and everything it had to offer Hunter and me.

But I can give it up. It hasn’t been a part of my life up until now.

The problem? Giving up Hunter.

I can almost hear my heart cracking in two.

“You okay?” Mandy asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. You look…kind of tired, actually.”

“I had a busy night.”

“Frankie, are you seeing someone?”

“No.”

Not anymore, anyway.

“You know, Jack works with a lot of single guys. I bet we could—”

I hold up my hand to stop her. “No. No blind dates. No fixups. I am perfectly capable of finding dates on my own.”

“I know that, Frank. You never had any problem in that area. That was all me.”

“Only because you made yourself a wallflower, Mandy. You were always pretty. Beautiful, even. You had eyes only for one man.”

That gets a smile out of her. “I did. I know I missed out on other guys, but Jackson was the only guy for me. I’m just thankful he finally returned my feelings.”

“I’m happy for you, Mandy. Truly.”

The words are true. My big sister deserves happiness. She deserves the best.

I just wish she hadn’t found it at Black Rose Underground.

But I don’t want to take that away from her. And I can’t take it away from Hunter.

“Can I take you to lunch?” Mandy asks.

I check my watch. “It’s after one.”

“I haven’t eaten yet. You want to get some sushi or something?”

“You and Jackson and your sushi. But I don’t think—” Then I change my mind. I have to deal with this whole Hunter-club thing, but I still have to eat. “You know what? That sounds pretty good. Let me grab my purse.”

I head into the bedroom, grab my purse and my phone. “Let’s go.”

“Great. Jack and I found a new place that’s not too expensive and serves amazing portions. I can’t wait to treat you.”

“You got it, sis.” I force a smile as we head out.

Chapter Forty-Four

Hunter

“I’d call Heathcliff the classic Byronic hero,” Laura Snyder says in my second-period Romantic Literature class.

“So would everyone else who’s familiar with the term,” I say. “You’re going to need to dig a little deeper.”

Laura’s cheeks blush. “I mean, he’s dark, you know? A loner.”

“So you’re saying all loners are dark?” I decide to cut Laura a break by calling on someone else whose hand is raised. “Dina?”

“I agree that he’s a Byronic hero, of course, but there’s more of an edge to Heathcliff than, say, even the phantom in Leroux’s masterpiece.”

“Darker than being physically scarred?” I ask.

“For sure. Erik in Phantom had physical and emotional scars. Heathcliff’s are all emotional.”

“So you’re saying emotional scars can be worse than physical?” I ask.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“I’d agree, though unless one is as physically scarred as the phantom was, I’m not sure the question can be answered accurately. But let’s get back to the Byronic hero. The dark-and-brooding type with mysterious origins. Usually a troubled past. We may be able to understand Heathcliff better if we compare him to other Byronic heroes. Can anyone give me an example of a Byronic hero in contemporary literature?”

“Bruce Wayne?” a guy from the back row says with a chuckle.

I smile. “He definitely fits the type, though I’d be hard-pressed to call comic books literature.”

“Anakin Skywalker.” Another guy from the back.

“You know the type for sure,” I say. “Now…contemporary literature?” I nod to a young man in the second row whose name escapes me. “Yes?”

“Severus Snape,” he says. “From Harry Potter. Is that considered literature?”

“Of course. Young adult literature is still literature, and Snape definitely fits the bill. Any others?”

Laura raises her hand again.

“Laura?”

“Jaime Lannister, maybe? From A Game of Thrones?”

“Jaime is definitely an antihero, but I wouldn’t classify him as Byronic.”

“Why not?”

“He’s intelligent and cunning, and clearly he doesn’t care about social norms, since he’s doing his sister—”

Chuckles permeate the room.

“—but he’s not a loner, and he doesn’t have a mysterious or troubled past.”

“I see.” Laura blushes again.

“But you got close.” I smile at her. “Any others?” Then I glance at the clock. The period is over. “Maybe next time. See you all next time.”

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