“Did you order food yet?” Sofia asked Cillian.
He nodded. “Delivery will be here shortly.” His thumb absently stroked my hand, our fingers intertwined beneath the table. The contact from him meant everything.
“I’ll just distribute the pieces at this point,” Theo said with a huff as he started to pass out the bone tiles. I reluctantly let go of Cillian’s hand and gathered my pieces.
“Okay, explain what we do.”
And so we got into the game.
We played a few hands of Bones, and then Jaffar arrived and we delved into a different game. Cillian had ordered sandwiches from a local place, and everyone tucked in. The laughter flowed freely, and I’d never felt lighter. Unlike a month ago, when I’d been worrying about Cillian, when the tension between us had been new and unexplored, our connection now added a richness to the interaction I hadn’t realized I’d love so much.
He casually touched me and kissed me in a way that made me feel claimed, that made me feel like I belonged, not just here, but also to him. And I’d never reached those exultant highs before in my life.
Eventually, Mal decided to leave, then Fae. Jaffar and Charles were deep in a conversation at the table, and Cillian and Theo discussed the meal plan for the week. I sank back into my seat, happy to listen. I didn’t need to yammer, and my well was full from our time around the table tonight.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out. It was rare I got a message, enough that I usually checked them.
Dad had texted.
I’m in trouble. Deep trouble. This will be the last time you hear from me.
Fuck.
Chapter 25
“I’ve got to go,” I said, rising from my seat and walking out of the dining hall. There was no way I could share the message with the table. My arms trembled as I excused myself from the room, and the moment I stepped out into the hallway, I dropped to my knees.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I’d traded ten years of my life so my father could survive. So he’d stand a chance.
Something was happening to him out there, and I couldn’t go to him. I tried to call his number, and it rang. And rang and rang.
Voicemail picked up, his familiar voice making my chest crack open. My whole body trembled as I ended the call. I needed to go to his house, to find him in person, but Icouldn’t. I couldn’t even leave the Spires without a chaperone. Yet my father roamed out there somewhere in Peregrine City, and he wasn’t going to survive. There would be no reunion when I was released from here. No check-ins from him.
My only family out there, the only one who gave a damn if I lived or died, was in deep trouble.
Fuck.
Heavy footsteps approached, and a huge palm rested on my back. I didn’t need to look up to know Cillian had come out to see what had happened. My eyes stung as I restrained the tears, not wanting to cry in front of him. Panic flared, loud and blaring in my mind as I tried to suck in a deep breath but continued to fail.
“What happened?” Cillian asked.
I sucked in another shallow breath. Fuck. How did I even explain this to him? He’d never let me go. He didn’t trust my father. Didn’t understand our connection or the loyalty I had to the one person who’d been a constant in my life.
Oh god, oh god, oh god. He was going to die, and I’d never even get to say goodbye. I’d leave the Spires after ten years to visit his grave. Bile rose in my throat, and the shakes descended over me.
Cillian scooped me up with the same ease he always did, and he clutched me tightly to his chest. “Let’s go to my quarters and talk.”
Normally, being in his arms offered all the comfort I needed—the hard muscle, the heat pouring off him. However, right now my body had turned to ice, and I couldn’t seem to warm up. My breaths were still shallow, more like pants, and my mind kept reeling, reeling, reeling. Gods, what was going on? This was worse than when my father had disappeared.
At least then, I’d had hope.
The message he’d sent me now? That had been a goodbye.
My throat squeezed tight, and my eyes stung. What could I do? I’d never felt more trapped in my life, more helpless. Was he in immediate danger? Or was he heading toward an end that could arrive any day now?
The familiar surroundings of the West Wing flashed around us, and Cillian carried me into his room before depositing me on his silken sheets. I’d been here for weeks now, and it had become a place of comfort, but right now, all it did was serve as a reminder that I wasn’t free.
