"Then you need to speak to him.”
“I tried,” she said, exasperated. “I tried and we broke up.” Tori’s eyes grew glassy and my heart hurt because this was my fault, but I couldn’t get wrapped up in those thoughts or I’d stumble. “What else am I meant to do?”
Tori was right. They all were. Almost two years of being in their company had sharpened everything about me. I’d always been observant, but I figured out that wasn’t enough. You couldn’t just notice things. You had to file them away and be ready to pull them out at a moment’s notice. Everything I had learned to become was everything I tried to avoid in others. It was a vicious cycle, but I had seen what falling behind had done the first time and I refused to be at the bottom of the class anymore.
“Help us,” I said to her quietly. Tori narrowed her eyes but didn’t respond. “If you helped us out, it would show him you trust him.”
“And how exactly would I help you?” Tori folded her arms across her chest.
I needed to choose my words carefully. If I phrased it wrong, then I risked making things worse between all of us. If that was even possible. If I did this properly, then there was a chance that I could go back to Angelo with information that would speed up the process and allow us to move on with our lives.
“Your dad,” I started. I feared that my heart might just beat out of my chest and flop onto the grass between us. “He said he was on business, but no one knows where he’s gone. He left Gabe in charge, so everyone’s assuming he’ll be away for a while. What’s going on?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” she told me.
“You said you couldn’t get a straight answer out of him, Tori. You’ve spoken to him.”
“He calls to check in on Gabe.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.” But I’m not certain if she’s telling me the truth. “All I know is that—"
“Mia.” Luc’s voice made me jump out of my skin, firm and stern, and Tori clamped her mouth shut. “What are you up to?” I wasn’t a gambling person, but I’d bet money that Luc had developed a sixth sense for knowing when I was up to no good.
“Just catching up with Tori,” I told him, flashing a bright smile. The look on Luc’s face told me he didn’t buy it.
“I think we were done here anyway,” Tori told him. “So, you can go and mingle and socialise or whatever it is you do these days.” She drained the champagne flute in her hand. “Happy birthday,” she said to Luc and turned on her heel, walking back inside.
"Why were you speaking to her?" Luc asked, placing a hand on the small of my back and guiding me back towards the group. He must have seen us and deployed himself on a one-man rescue mission. Cute but annoyingly unnecessary when Tori was on the verge of telling me something. The moment Luc appeared, she'd closed off.
"She was on her own. I wanted to make sure she was okay."
"And?"
"She's hurting, Luc."
In the quiet, I looked up at Luc. I was sure he had some comment, but he thought better of it. "It's for the best," he said eventually, and I hoped he was right.
Chapter Eleven
Lucas
Under the cover of darkness was where monster didn’t feel the need to hide. Everything that wouldn’t be deemed appropriate when the sun was high in the sky became plausible as the city slept. I shed the vaguely polite façade that I carried throughout the day and let all my demons come out to play. Tonight had lasted longer than I’d expected, wanting to ensure I had extracted every piece of possible information before getting rid of the waste of space.
Mia appeared in the hallway just as I closed the door. She must have been waiting for me to come home despite the fact it was the early hours of the morning. Her eyes took me in, the bloodied clothing and dishevelled hair giving away that it had not been a night lost in drinks and merriment but in hard graft.
“Are you okay?” she asked, coming towards me. The dim light of the living room that leaked into the hallway illuminated the worry that was etched on her features. She came to a stop in front of me.
“I’m fine,” I assured her, taking her face in my hands. Mia let out a shaky breath of relief and I wondered if there would ever be a point where she stopped worrying about the late nights. If there would be a time where she would sleep easy because all of this was routine.
She turned her head and kissed the inside of one of my palms. There was no flinching or thought of what deeds they had just accomplished. She was well aware that the hands that loved her and handled her with tenderness also had more violent tendencies. Softness was reserved for her and never given freely to the world.
“I was worried,” she whispered.
There was my answer. She cared too deeply to become desensitised to it all. “You don’t need to. I’m here. I’m home.” I suppressed the urge to kiss her, wanting to be clean of the deed. “I need to get cleaned up. Come to bed.”
“I’ll be there now,” she said, stepping back away from me.
