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The boys would never let me live it down for the next decade.
While she cleans my arm, I pluck a dead leaf out of my hair.
“Sorry,” I grind out. “Never meant to startle you like that—or worry you. When I saw him, I had to—”
“Had to what? You scared theshitout of me, Grant!” Ophelia smacks my arm, right above the scratch. That honestly stings more than the little abrasions all over my chest and shoulders, though there’s a deeper one on the sole of my foot from a sharp stick that’s starting to throb. “Just tearing out of here like crazy, you didn’t evensayanything. I just woke up to you running and no idea what the hell was going on. What about Nell? If you’d been a minute later, I’d have called the cops first and asked questions later.”
Goddamn, this woman.
Nell’s no relation to her, yet her first thought isn’t for herself. It’s for my little girl.
She’s brave as hell.
By some miracle, Nelly-girl snoozed through the ruckus. I’d like to keep it that way, so that’s why we talk in low, rough voices.
I also get it.
Even now, she’s hiding behind anger, but her cheeks are flushed and her lips pressed together into a nervous line. Her lashes quiver as she glares down at her hands, her fingers clumsy as she fumbles with the cap on the alcohol bottle.
I reach out to cover her hand, stopping her, and tip her face up to kiss those trembling lips.
My heart wants to stop, knowing that tremor is forme.
That she cares so goddamned much.
I remember what I was thinking about before I heard that snap.
I don’t know what we are to each other, but I sure as hell want to have that conversation.
I can’t imagine letting Ophelia slip out of my life.
Not unless she really wants to go.
Not unless she plans to run off again and leave the dust of my heart and the ashes of this freaky town in her wake for good.
Tracing the line of her lips, I draw back, stroking her cheek.
“I’m fine now,” I murmur. “More worried about you, Philia. This man’s clearly stalking you. You feeling okay?”
“No,” she answers, though with less force than before. “I’mangry,Grant. What does he want with me? Why is he doing this?”
“Wish I knew,” I reply before firming my voice into a promise. “Tomorrow, I’m going up to the big house—and I’ll be damned if I leave before I get some answers.”
* * *
Frankly,I don’t know if I’m going to get shit.
Certainly not without a fight.
I stand in the grand hall of the Arrendell mansion with Montero Arrendell just over my shoulder.
He’s hovering, sticking just close enough that it’s obvious he’s trying to make me uncomfortable.
If I actually gave a shit, he might be intimidating.
Right now, I’m too far past that.
I’m laser focused on the full staff complement lined up in front of me. Men and women in maid uniforms or tailcoats and livery.
