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His room is more formal than he’s used to. We’ve always had smaller rooms growing up that looked lived in. This one, in dark blue and gray, appears as though someone pulled it from a magazine. It’s all fine lines and crisp linens. It’s almost cold and lacking the warmth that a bedroom has when it’s lived in.
It’s just for one more night, I remind myself as I lay Milo under the blankets. He barely stirs, and though a part of me wants to wake him up to brush his teeth and wash his face, I let him be. One night won’t matter.
Leaning down, I press a kiss to his forehead and open the door between our rooms. We share a bathroom—a Jack and Jill bathroom, if I remember correctly. At least I know no one will come in to get him, and I’m thankful that Brooklyn gave us this space.
“I did,” I whisper, finally turning back to Desmond, who stands at the door, just watching me with his unnerving gaze, seeing more than I want him to.
“If you had remained in college, what would you have majored in?” he asks, throwing me off guard.
I look back at Milo and his sleepy face. “Probably early childhood education.” I turn to Desmond, finding him far closer than he was a minute ago.
“You’d have made an incredible teacher.” He palms my face, sending my heart into my throat. “You deserved tonight, Charlotte,” he whispers before brushing my lips with his.
I close my eyes, letting him whisk my thoughts away as I kiss him back gently. A part of me wants to invite him into my room, but I need a shower and a moment alone at least for one night.
“Goodnight, Charlotte,” he whispers against my lips.
“Thank you.” I kiss him again.
“For?”
“Keeping us safe, keeping the town safe.” I open my eyes, finding him gazing right back at me. “I know you were making sure those escaped men didn’t come near anyone.”
“Always,” he promises, and I believe him. “Go to sleep, Charlotte. I will see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight, Desmond.” I step back and softly shut the door and lock it before I head to the bathroom.
I quietly shut Milo’s door to the bathroom and peel off my costume. The puffy red of the Skittle suit plops to the floor, leaving me in a white fishnet bodysuit that covers every inch of me.
I take off my clothes as quickly as possible, tossing them aside without a second thought. I stare into the mirror, only to be met with unfamiliar eyes that seem to pierce through me. My cheekbones appear sharper than ever before, and my auburn hair cascades past my waist like a curtain trying to hide something from me. Fear grips me. Why do I look so foreign?
I reluctantly step away from the earlier memories, desperately trying to clear my mind of what I have learned and the mysteries I have yet to uncover.
My friends, whom I had trusted for so long, are part of something that I never could have imagined. As I step into the shower, the conversation replays over and over in my head, each new detail making it harder not to get too involved in something far beyond my control.
Brooklyn wants her girls to take down the five families’ heads. I worry her plan isn’t foolproof. The mafia heads are like the mythical hydra, a beast with many heads that grows two if you chop one off. Dead men don’t leave bodies behind for funeral masses and goodbyes, they just disappear. I don’t know how she plans to accomplish this, and that alone makes me shiver, despite the hot water.
I’m already in deep enough that I’m thinking of plot holes and ways to fill them.
Sal was one small aspect. What Brooklyn wants on a grand scale feels impossible. The girls seem to back her, their loyalty unwavering, but they grew up here.
I quickly wash the night away. My movements are methodical and crisp, and there’s a tiredness in my bones.
It’s not a physical exhaustion, but a mental one. The weight of Brooklyn’s plan, Jani’s hidden feelings, and the unknowns that lie ahead all bear down on me. I want to be a part of something greater than myself, but I’m not sure I have the strength to see it through.
As I step out of the shower and reach for a towel, a sudden movement in the corner of my eye catches my attention. I quickly turn, heart racing, but find nothing out of place.
Maybe it was just my imagination.
As I dry myself off and get dressed, the feeling of being watched lingers. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as I slip into a pair of shorts and a tank top.
When I finally step into my bedroom, nothing looks out of place. It’s just as clean and crisp as Milo’s room next door, except for the bottle of wine and a glass sitting on the end table. There’s a note propped against it, all of which I ignore.
Instead, I grab a book from the small bookshelf against the wall and crawl into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. Even though there is no evidence of anyone else being in the room, the feeling that someone is watching me never dissipates. I try to focus on the story unfolding on the pages. Something about a fae lord and a human. It’s my favorite trope, even though the words all blur together tonight.
I try to focus on the words on the page in front of me, but my mind keeps wandering back to Brooklyn’s plan and Jani’s secrets. It all feels like too much to bear alone.
Who can I trust? Who can I confide in without risking my life?
