“You will pay all of it? With several days interest?” Because of course he’s that petty. I stiffen, because even for me it’s not pocket change. And yet, are Dalton’s dick and my dignity worthy of such a high price tag?
Yes.
Aunt Juliana slaps his arm. “Karl! Stop it with the interest!”
He grumbles. “Well, he should pay all of it if he’s taking it on.” But then he turns to me again. “I still need to know what you were thinking was going to happen after you stole him from the hunt? He was our prisoner!”
“I figured I would just take him away. It’s not like he killed anyone. It’s just debt. He’s onlyherebecause you wanted more prey.”
Uncle Karl waves his arms around. “It would havecome upif he’s your fiancé! What were you planning? To keep him in the basement for the rest of his life?”
I stall, annoyed I haven’t thought it through, but they don’t need to know. But keeping Dalton under lock and key would solve all my issues. He’d get to live in comfort, I’d get to have him, and the people who should never find out about my secrets wouldn’t be privy to any of that.
It’s bad enough that my family now has dirt on me. I hate it when my head refuses to provide me with a suitably evasive answer, but this time my mother comes to my aid with a tearful sob.
“I thought we tell each other everything,” she whimpers, hugging the empty mug to her chest. I really don’t want to argue, or throw the truth in her face at a public gathering like this one, but no,Idefinitely don’t tell her everything.
“I said I’ll pay, and what I do with him is none of anyone’s business. Are we done here?” I snap and to make my point, approach Dalton. I pull out his gag, and grab my knife to cut the rope, because I’m not asking Damen for help with the elaborate knots he decided on.
Dalton sighs in relief. “Thanks, I was cramping up a little.”
Damen shakes his head, watching us with a smug smile. “It would have been fine if you told us. There was no need for this circus.”
“I am holding a very sharp knife, you know.” I squint at him as Dalton stands up. Those tight red sweat pants leave nothing to the imagination. I bet everyone here is judging us. Judgingme. They will make assumptions, and the next time we meet, I will have to fight off lewd gay jokes about the size of my ‘fiancé’s’ equipment.
My life would be so much fucking easier if I didn’t crave the things I do… I guess this is my punishment for losing control.
“Merry fucking Christmas everyone. We won’t be staying,” I say coolly as my mother sobs again. I’m usually more moved by her tears, but she’ll be fine. “Collin, please make the travel arrangements.”
I’m about to turn to the door when… Dalton hugs me. And gives me a kiss on the cheek. In front of everyone. I’m stiff as dried-up fruit cake, but this is good. This makes our ruse more realistic and easier to swallow. I slide my arm to the back of his waist. It feels… good to touch him again.
But without further ado, I slip out of the hug after a moment and head for the door. When I snap my fingers, Dalton follows.
“Make sure to pay tonight, or I will add another day of interest!” Uncle Karl yells as if the few thousand would make a difference at this point.
What a bitter old man.
Now I just need to establish the rules with Dalton, so he knows his place. Then everything will be fine.
Chapter 8
Dalton
Ithoughtthatduringour trip back to New York we’d get to know each other better, go on a date during the layover, or maybe even fuck, since Corvus was clearly satisfied enough with my performance to keep me alive. That has to count for something.
Instead, he left me with their butler, and I got a more reasonable change of clothes. We then travelled in a helicopter and could barely hear one another over all the noise. On the private jet, Corvus slept the whole way through in some kind of relaxation pod I didn’t know existed. At least I got to have a nice meal on the plane, which after days in a cell was pure bliss.
I counted on conversation on the way from the airport at least, but a tension filled the air between us, and Corvus didn’t seem to want to speak much in the driver’s presence.
By the time we drive into Manhattan, my stomach is in knots, but my heart elated. I was half-expecting Corvus to live in the penthouse of a skyscraper, but the limo stops in front of a row of brownstones. Unlike its neighbors, the house Corvus leads me toward has darkcurtains covering all windows, but other than that it doesn’t differ from the others much. It has the same ironwork fence around a small patch of greenery at the front, the same bars in the semi-basement windows, and the same steps leading to the entrance.
I step through the threshold of where I was told I’d be staying (I didn’t argue), too stunned to think straight. In under twenty four hours, I’ve moved from a cell under the Van der Horn mansion, about to be shot dead and never seen again, to being engaged to Corvus and getting to live with him? Maybe I did die and go to heaven?
Everything is pitch black until Corvus switches on the light, revealing a hallway and stairs with an intricately-carved bannister. The herringbone parquet floor feels a bit old-fashioned, but the dark wallpaper is anything but. Large leaves and vines in dark teal climb up to the black ceiling, and I gravitate inside, my eyes trained on a marble hand reaching out from the wall and holding a lightbulb.
I open my mouth, about to praise Corvus’s taste in decor (even though all the crows, skulls, and moths looking at me from the gallery wall freak me out a bit), but before I can face him, jolts of burning ice pass through my body, and everything goes dark.
I vaguely remember being dragged and pain enveloping my body like an electrical snare. I’m still dazed, my muscles twitch, but I’mcatching my breath as I open my eyes to light that is too white and too bright.
