“The music healed us. It brought the guys and me together. It saved us from ourselves. We each have our demons that the music seems to push into the darkness.” He pauses again as I sit and listen, giving him the time he needs to find the words. “The masks were only meant to be a product of Sonus, but they’ve become a part of me now. I feel … almost like someone else when I have it on. When I’m wearing it, I feel seen in ways that I never could without it. Without it, I would feel bare and exposed, and the music wouldn’t mean what it does now. Having a personal identity attached to the music would destroy it.Iwould destroy it.” His voice shakes, and I get the feeling that he’s never said these words aloud.
Something inside of me reacts to his vulnerability, and my hand reaches for his thigh. He looks down at it before continuing.
“The organization needs to be stopped. We haven’t found a way yet, but we need to. Sabel is pushing things too far, and I’m afraid of where it’s headed. What they could do with this level of mind control is terrifying, and in the wrong hands, catastrophic. I know Sabel isn’t working alone. We need to figure out who’s running the whole thing and take them down. It’s not going to be easy, and it will take time.”
“Van, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you were dragged into this mess, and I’m sorry for what it’s made you. You are worthy, with and without the mask,” I say, unsure of where I’m finding the words, or the feeling inside of me that the words are true.
“How do you know that? You don’t even really know me,” he says, moving his leg out from under my hand. I retreat, sensing that he’s about to shut me out.
“I just … do, okay? I have a feeling that there’s good inside of you, and that you deserve to be seen for it, for everything,” I say, needing him to remain here with me for reasons that I can’t explain.
“Fuck, Sloane.” He runs his hands down the front of his mask. “You are too good. You should run from me, from this. I don’t want you getting involved. It’s already too risky with your frequency aversions.”
“Stop it. Let me make my own choices, Van,” I say. He nods, but doesn’t look up. “I’m going to be fine, okay? Don’t push me away, please.” I abandon all logic as I stand up from the sofa and climb directly onto his lap, straddling him. He stills, hands not moving from the back of the sofa. I bring my hands up to the bottom of his mask and hook my fingers beneath it. He moves quickly and has my wrists in his hands in a matter of seconds. He stops me from moving any further.
“Van, you can trust me,” I whisper. After a few seconds, he loosens his grip. I raise his mask only enough to expose his mouth. I lean in slowly until our lips are brushing against one another. His lips part as his breathing picks up. He releases my wrist to move his hands to either side of my face, pulling me to him. Our lips connect in a slow kiss, sending me straight into oblivion. The kiss isn’t rushed or messy, as if we both want to take our time in this moment. We move in rhythm like we were made for it. I feel his tongue glide over my lower lip, and a low moan escapes from mine. I want him closer, harder, faster. Instead, he pulls back and adjusts his mask back down over his mouth. His hands fall to his sides.
He looks up, remaining silent for several moments. “I don’t think that I could push you away if I tried. You are magnetic. I try to turn and walk away, but I am constantly pulled back to you. You are an enigma, and I have no idea what you’re doing to me. All I know is that I don’t want it to stop.” I stare down athim, stunned by his revelation and how it aligns perfectly with my own.
“I …” I say, apparently unable to form a coherent sentence, “I … have to pee.” I get up from the sofa, walking off toward his bathroom. I suddenly need to get away. I need to breathe air that isn’t taken up by his presence. He doesn’t follow. I walk into his room, and when I’m almost to the bathroom, I stop to peek at the dresser drawer of masks. I internally battle with myself as I stand there motionless, staring at the drawer.
“Do not invade his privacy after everything he just said to you. Don’t ruin this,”I hear that evangelical voice in my head say.
“Do it. You need to know what secrets he’s keeping, or you’ll never trust him. Open it,”I hear the one with horns and a devilish smile say.
Before I can think better of it, I’m moving toward the drawer, and the box is in my hand. I flip the little latch and open the lid. What I see staring back at me takes me by complete surprise.
Inside the box are a dozen or so photos of … myfather.
I quickly flip through them, noting that they all seem to be taken from afar. In them, he’s pictured doing various things like walking out of work or climbing into his vehicle. One of them is of him and some guy. The guy is handing him a thick envelope. There’s another photo of my father and the same guy shaking hands. What’s certain is that my father had no idea these were being taken. My heart races, and a thousand thoughts run through my mind at once. I pocket the photos inside my bra, returning the box to the drawer of masks. I have to get out of here,now. I make my way out of the bedroom door and into the living room.
“I need to leave,” I say, not even looking his way.
Van jumps up from the sofa and moves toward me. I unintentionally flinch. “Sloane, what …wait. You don’t even have a car. Let me take you home.”
“I’ll call an Uber,” I say back, walking toward the door. He runs in front of me to block my path.
“Get out of my way, Van.” I seethe as tears sting my eyes.
“Sloane, what happened? I’m sorry if I upset you.Please…” He moves out of my way, and I grab the handle to open the door and walk out.
“Sloane, stop. I’ll call my driver, Caleb. He’ll take you back. It’s safer.”
I consider arguing, but think twice because he’s probably right. “Fine,” I say, arms crossed over my chest. “I’ll wait outside.Alone.”
His head falls. If I could see his face right now, I’m sure that I’d see confusion, hurt, maybe even betrayal. But I don’t care.
I stand outside and wait for Caleb, who arrives within five minutes. I climb into the Mercedes without another glance in Van’s direction.
25
Riven
I watch out of the window as Sloane drives away in the back of the Sprinter. I have no idea what happened, any of it. First, I broke rule number one by letting her kiss me. Then, she ran out of the house like her life depended on it. What happened? Something must have occurred between that kiss and her running out of my life. Because that’s exactly what it feels like she did. I can’t shake the image of her face when she told me to move out of her way. She looked devastated and angry. I’m missing something. I pace the living room, trying to think.
Thatfuckingkiss.
The way her lips felt on mine. Iknowshe felt it, too. I felt everything, and nothing, with her mouth on mine. It felt like she was both the light and the dark, or maybe somewhere in between. We collided in a way that I’m having trouble pulling myself back from, and I’m not even sure that I want to. It’s thereason I didn’t want to kiss her. I knew it would make everything so much harder.
