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Even though I hate making deals with vague descriptions, I reply, “I promise.” Because, in the end, I will always do everything I can to protect Allura.
It’s what we’ve all been doing for years, even if she doesn’t know it yet.
FOURTEEN
ALLURA
Blaise and I don’t speak to each other as we leave the store, and shortly after, he gets called to a job and takes off. What that job is, I have no clue. It likely has to do with drugs, sex, or murder. That’s how it is in this world. The sons of mobsters are raised to take over the crime world, and the daughters are brought up to be future obedient and compliant wives.
The rest of the day is spent preparing for the ceremony. By the time night falls, I’m exhausted and fall asleep within minutes of lying down. Even then, clips of images of what happened that day manage to pierce through my lethargic mind and tiptoe into my slumber in the form of a terrifying nightmare.
He pins me down, his grip bruising.
I try to kick him, but my movements are sluggish.
I think I’ve been drugged.
Help!I want to scream, but a pathetic whimper leaves my mouth instead.
“Shh … little dove,” he whispers. “It’ll be over soon. You’re mine. You always have been—”
I startle awake at what sounds like a knock. I bolt upright, peering around my room that’s kissed with the glow of light trickling from a lamp I left on. My curtains are drawn shut, so I can’t tell if the sun has come up yet. And what the hell was that knocking—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Al—Allura,” Ryder’s voice drifts through the door. “I need you to wake up and let me in. I know you’re a light sleeper, baby, so I’m positive my knocking has woken you up.”
He’s right, and it’s irritating that he knows me that well.
“Go away!” I call out as I rake my fingers through my hair. Then I lean over and collect my phone from the nightstand to check the time.
“Shit, it’s almost noon,” I grumble, slightly irked with myself. This is my last day before the fate ceremony, and I chose to sleep through half of it. I’m so lame.
“I can’t do that,” Ryder replies with a trace of impatience. “Not until I talk to you about a few things.”
For a wild instant, I wonder if Blaise told him what we did in the dressing room. Do I care if he knows? Sort of. It definitely wasn’t one of my finer moments, no matter how good I felt doing it.
“What do you need to talk to me about?” I scoot to the edge of the bed and stretch my arms above my head, yawning. “Just tell me through the door.”
“Al.” His tone carries a warning. “Open the door now, or I’ll have your mother unlock it.”
Fuming, I rise to my feet, storm across the room, and throw open the door.
He’s standing on the other side, his dark hair styled perfectly, and he’s donning gray slacks, a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a tie.
“Did you just threaten me?” I question with a bite in my tone.
His searing gaze skims up and down my body, reminding me that I’m wearing a pair of short cotton shorts and a tank top with no bra underneath it.
I cross my arms over my chest and move to step back into my room, fully intending to shut the door in his face. But he slams a palm against the door.
“I wasn’t threatening you. I wouldn’t have gotten your mother involved. I just knew that’d get you to open the door.”
Knew.
Knew.
Knew.
