I work my jaw, but nothing comes out but a dry rasp. When I lick my lips, all I taste is copper. “I... I was just?—”
“The poor wretch has thrown herself at me since day one. Haven’t you, Miss Burlington?” His voice is smooth, reasonable. The kind of tone that makes lies sound like gospel.
I shake my head, wanting to deny it all, but terror closes my throat.
More footsteps thunder up the stairs. Blanche’s friends pour into my room like vultures circling roadkill. Pink hair. Leather coat. All of them staring at me like I’m the evening’s entertainment.
“What’s happening?” Pink hair demands, reaching for her phone.
Rochester slides his arm around Blanche’s waist, pulling her close. “Our little servant’s been spreading stories. Some people can’t handle being told no.”
“Now she’s threatening me with tampered pills,” Blanche shrieks.
Betrayal curdles in my gut, hitting so hard that my spine bows. I wanted to help the stupid bitch. Do something right for once in my life, and it’s backfired. Suddenly I’m back in Gil’s penthouse. His hands on my shoulders, steering me toward the door with his boss’s gaze like a knife to my throat.
One of the women gasps. “When will these low-level sluts ever learn their place?”
The other friends crowd closer.
My gaze turns back to Rochester, who presses a kissagainst Blanche’s temple. “I would never hurt you, my love. You mean everything to me.”
I want to scream at Blanche to open her eyes. To see through his manipulations. But she’s too desperate to believe in her fantasy to consider the truth.
She gazes up into his dark eyes, melting against him like he’s the sun. “You mean that?”
He gives her a wintry smile that looks more like a grimace. “You own my heart. My very soul. If there was any doubt of my devotion, I’d want you to tear it out.”
“Edward...” she whispers, swallowing his lies.
He drops to one knee right there on my bedroom floor and grabs her hands. “Marry me tonight. Let’s wake up Father Henry. I can’t wait another day.”
My stomach lurches. The room spins like a carnival ride. This is happening too fast. Surely she can’t believe this bullshit?
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” Blanche bounces on her toes.
In my head, I’m back in that dingy room staring down at Callahan, my fingers trembling around the syringe. Gil’s hot breath fans against my neck as he whispers assurances. It’s me or the cop. If I refuse, I’ll be the one to die. With a sob, I slide the needle into a vein bulging between his toes.
A slap comes out of nowhere, snapping my head to the side and my mind back to the present. I gape up at Blanche, her features twisted with contempt.
“How dare you poison my pills,” she hisses. “How dare you try to kill me so you could have him. This is attempted murder. I’m calling the police.”
Alarm kicks me in the chest. She can’t. I step back, glancing at Rochester. The mask slips, his eyes flickeringwith panic. One blink later, he smooths it away and rises back to his feet.
His hand finds her shoulder. His lips brush against her ear. “Forget about her, darling. Tonight should be about us.”
She turns to him, her eyes pleading. “She can’t get away with threatening my life.”
Rochester cups her cheek. “It was probably just a figure of speech.”
“If you don’t deal with her, I’ll drown myself in the pond!” She stamps her foot.
My jaw drops, and I exhale an incredulous breath. The others nod and grumble, seeming to agree with their delusional friend. Every eye turns to me as if I’m the one who threatened to stick Blanche’s head underwater.
“Let me deal with this after our wedding.” He releases her shoulder and strides toward me with the grace of a predator.
“Wait!” I hold out my palms to protect myself, but he snatches my bicep with a grip like a shackle and squeezes until I gasp.
“Come on. We need to talk.”
