My thoughts felt soft, deformed somehow, as if still marked by someone else’s fingers. Maybe because I could still feel that alien hand so clearly in my chest.
I sat up with a jolt, but immediately regretted it as a sharp pain burst through my temples and between my ribs. Panting, I pressed both hands to my frantically beating heart, trying to make sure I was still in one piece. Each breath was a burning ache, but otherwise I felt unharmed, and like myself.
I was still here, even though…Ashton Griffin had just tried to kill me.The thought felt more like a nightmare than a memory, but I knew instinctively it wasn’t. If I had woken from a dream, I would have been in my own bed, and not one I’d never seen before.
Taking a deep breath, I threw back the duvet and set both feet on the floor, one after the other. My head began to swim, my vision went fuzzy. I blinked until it cleared, then looked down, seeing with relief that I was still fully dressed. Only my coat and shoes had been removed, replaced with thick socks.
The only object in the room, except the bed, was an oak wardrobe with gold knobs. I opened it and looked inside. Muted colours, shades of olive and brown, lots of black. My fingers skimmed the expensive fabrics, increasingly reassured. I knew who these things belonged to. Not because of the garments themselves, but the scent that lingered on them. Warm, woody oud, spicy cinnamon, a note of bergamot and a hint of lavender. I had smelt it many times before, but it was most intense here: in the home of the person it belonged to.
Relieved, I closed the wardrobe and went over to the door, beyond which I could hear muffled noises. Blake was at the stove. He had his back to me, but I knew he sensed me the moment I entered the room. I had been here often, but never in his bedroom. Almost as if he was trying to lock away the thoughts that loomed behind it.
As soon as I reached the kitchen island, he turned to me. Studying me, stirring a saucepan on the hob. The air was rich with the warm scent of milk, and my muscles relaxed a little.
‘How did I get here?’ My voice was hoarse, and I cleared my throat.
‘I brought you here, after…’ He trailed off, shoulders hunching. The memory bore down on them with all its weight. I could almost see it, although I’d glimpsed what happened only at the edges of my perception.
‘After you stopped your best friend trying to kill me,’ I finished matter-of-factly. Oddly, I was long past the point when those words felt difficult to accept.
One corner of his mouth lifted, a sorry attempt at a smile. ‘You really are quite strong. You shouldn’t even be able to remember that.’
‘You’re not even going to deny it?’ Until now, Blake had always tried to defend Ashton.
‘I thought we’d leave all that behind us, at last. Doesn’t matter now anyway.’
‘What do you mean?’
He opened a cupboard and took out a mug. ‘Like I told you, I was just trying to protect you by keeping you away from me. But after what happened tonight… that’s no longer an option.’
When he turned to me again, I smiled grimly. ‘Good.’
‘Good?’ he replied sceptically.
‘Yes. Like I toldyou, that isn’t what I want.’
For a moment we looked at each other in silence, then he gestured to a stool in front of me. ‘You should sit down. It’ll take your circulation a while longer to recover.’ He went up to the island from the other side and slid a notepad and a book aside as I climbed onto the stool. A flare of dizziness, and I grabbed the edge to support myself.
Blake reached reflexively for my hand, holding it tight. His skin was so warm that I flinched. But it was probably just because mine was so cold. There was a shiver caught inside me, which kept sending waves of gooseflesh over my skin. Blake let me go at once and stepped back. ‘You don’t have to be afraid of me,’ he said tonelessly, reaching again for the spoon.
‘I’m not,’ I replied, surprised to realise I meant it. ‘You wouldn’t have saved me from Ashton if you were planning to kill me yourself.’
‘I didn’t just mean that. It’s also… what I told you about Piper and the others. I would never… touch you.’ His voice was shot through with hesitation, as if there were truths hidden in those silences he didn’t want to share.
But what he’d said already was enough to send another shiver down my spine, because I realised it hadn’t even crossed my mind when I first woke up in his bed. I’d felt no trace of fear that he might have done something to me, although I knew he was capable of it. I tried to tell myself I was just confused, but I knew better. My feelings for Blake weren’t confused. Despite the chaos all around us, what I felt when I looked at him was simple. Even if it was wrong, it was real.
I narrowed my lips and said nothing. I couldn’t leave now, anyway. Not just because Ashton might be waiting for me outside the house, but because I believed Blake when he said he was tired of secrets. And so was I. After everything that had happened tonight, I needed answers more urgently than ever.
Blake took two pot holders off the hook and poured the milk into the mug, then added several tablespoons of honey and stirred. ‘Here, drink this,’ he said, setting it in front of me. I could see how careful he was not to look at me or touch me. ‘It helps.’ He gave me an encouraging nod, and I tried the milk. Itwas too sweet, but after the first taste I could already feel the soft honey soothing the roughness inside me.
‘I don’t understand how Ashton did it,’ I whispered after a few sips, which cleared my mind a little. ‘I didn’t let my drink out of my sight, how could he possibly have slipped something into it?’
Blake leant against the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest. He still wouldn’t look me in the eye. ‘He didn’t give you anything, he took something from you.’
‘Come on, don’t tell me he siphoned energy out of my soul to make me easier to manipulate.’ I laughed aloud, a brittle noise. When I saw that Blake didn’t respond, it turned to ash in my mouth. I swallowed heavily. ‘Again, you’re not denying it.’
‘I don’t like lying, remember?’
I stared at him in horror. Even if I could accept that someone had tried to kill me, that didn’t mean I could accept…that. It wasn’t possible.
