I press my bare toes into the porcelain tiles, attempting to ground myself, but I sway as Tandy sweeps into the kitchen.
“Oh, my god, Quinn,” she cries, rushing towards me and pulling me into a hug. “I’ve just seen Jason.” She squeezes me hard enough to elicit a pitiful sob. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but I’m here for you.”
That makes me cry harder.
“Sit,” she says, guiding me towards the kitchen table.
After grabbing a bottled water and some paper towels, she sits down next to me and rubs my back. “Can you talk about it?”
“I don’t think I can,” I whisper hoarsely.
“Jason says he came back drunk last night, but he swears all he remembers is going straight to his room and passing out,” Tandy says. “But that isn’t what happened, is it?”
I press a paper towel to my face. That’s exactly what happened. And while Jason was sleeping things off, I was plotting his downfall.
“It was a drunken mistake on his part,” I tell Tandy.
I’d said the same to Barrett first thing this morning. Ilya might have pressured me into falsely accusing Jason, but I won’t paint him as a violent predator.
“He must have misinterpreted the signals, but I had to report him to Barrett. I didn’t have a choice,” I say, but that’s not exactly true. I did have a choice, and I chose my sister. “I wouldn’t have felt safe staying here anymore, but I’m sorry he was fired. I’m so sorry. Will you tell Jason that?”
After my phone call to Barrett, I’d messaged Reid toarrange our meeting. I wanted to be away from the mansion when Ilya’s men arrived to escort Jason off the premises.
“Quinn, honey, you don’t need to apologize,” says Tandy. “Of course you had to report him. And Jason doesn’t blame you one bit. He hates himself so much he’s decided to leave town so you don’t have to face him.”
“That sounds like a very good idea,” comes the voice of my tormentor. Ilya has appeared in the doorway leading from the main entrance.
Tandy’s eyes widen as her gaze travels up and down his body. She sees a tall, well-built man with tousled blond hair and piercing blue eyes. She sees what Blake saw. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”
“Technically, I’m not,” Ilya says, stepping forward as she stands.
I’m not sure if Tandy does a little curtesy, or if the movement is caused by her going weak at the knees. Either way, it’s horrifying to watch.
“I’m staying at the edges of the estate in the guesthouse,” Ilya continues. “My security has been charged with protecting the property, but unfortunately, we couldn’t protect Quinn in this instance. You can never trust those closest to you.”
“I suppose not,” Tandy says, oblivious to how Ilya is talking in riddles. He’s talking about me, not Jason.
“But don’t worry about your friend,” he continues. “I’ll be taking extra care of her in the future.”
Tandy gives me a quick look, her brow rising a fraction as if to say how lucky I am. She’s fallen so easily for Ilya’s charm and it makes my stomach twist.
“And I’m sorry to intrude, but I’m leaving soon and I do need a quick chat with you, Quinn,” Ilya continues. “Ofcourse, if it’s inconvenient, we could reschedule. I’ll be back in a week or two.”
I shoot up from my seat. I’m not waiting weeks to speak to Blake. “No, now is fine,” I say before turning to Tandy. “I’m sorry. Would you mind?”
“We can catch up another time,” she says, going in for another hug. “You know where I am if you need me.”
I return the squeeze she gives me. “I don’t deserve you,” I whisper.
Ilya’s doing that thing of observing me like a bug under a microscope as I say goodbye to my friend. When she’s gone, I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans so it’s less obvious how much I’m shaking.
“I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain,” I tell him. “Now it’s your turn.”
Ilya steps towards me, mimicking my pose by putting his hands in his suit pant pockets. He smells of cedar and spices, and I don’t know if I simply hadn’t noticed his scent previously, or if my senses are heightened. I hope the latter. It means my mind isn’t as weak and fragile as my body feels.
“You’re a devious little minx, Jade. You make up a story about a man assaulting you, and even he believes it. Well played.”
“The last thing I want is to be praised for your cruelty,” I say with a barely disguised snarl.
