It whines past Eddie’s ear and smashes into a stone gargoyle-like statue behind us, close enough that he flinches. Close enough to make him doubt his assessment of Maggie.
Maggie’s breathing is ragged, but the gun doesn’t waver. It stays pointed at Eddie. He stares at her, then starts to laugh in a wild, unsteady pitch. ‘Look at you go. Maybe we’ll make a killer of you yet.’
Lifting his hands, he backs away, still grinning. ‘This isn’t over.’
Then he turns and staggers off into the rain.
I don’t move until he’s gone, sagging against the railing.
Maggie’s knees buckle slightly. And I’m there in twounsteady strides, catching her and pulling her close. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Nothing for you to be sorry for, you saved my ass.’
’I didn’t think he’d actually try anything while we’re here. Even Eddie usually has a little more decorum.’ Maggie lowers the gun to her side and relaxes her head against my chest. I’ve never even seen a gun before outside of the TV. It brings Maggie’s reality into sharp focus.
‘You okay?’ I ask.
She nods. ‘You?’
‘I’ll be better when we get back to the room.’
We’re soaked to the undercrackers, pulses going like the clappers, and exhaustion kicking in.
What a party.
TWENTY-ONE
MAGGIE
Back in my room,we change into dry clothes and sag on the sofa with hot tea and shortbread courtesy of one of the late-night staff.
My hair has taken on a life of its own after the rain, and I surreptitiously smooth it whenever Roman isn’t looking. My hands won’t stop shaking. I keep replaying seeing Eddie’s knife at his chest every time I see the bruise darkening his jaw.
‘We need to work out what we’re doing. About Eddie. And about Priscilla. About Dad. It’s all getting a bit much.’ I don’t know what else I’d been expecting, really. Wherever I go, a buttload of chaos follows.
Roman sits beside me on the sofa, our arms touching as we take slow sips of our tea. ‘I guess I need to talk to my dad.’
‘We can worry about it tomorrow. Talking to anyone tonight will be fruitless. It’s too late, and everyone’s beendrinking. The doors locked, and there are enough people in the house that I doubt Eddie will try anything else today.’ Roman’s voice is soothing, but I’m not convinced that even he believes what he’s saying.
‘Yeah, he’d be an idiot to come up here. Not that I’d put that past him.’
I shiver in my pyjamas, the rain having chilled me to the bone.
Roman notices before I say anything and puts his tea down. He grabs one of his hoodies and tugs it over my head without a word, putting my half-empty cup of tea next to his. The material smells like him, spicy aftershave and that manly undertone that’s all Roman. Warmth cocoons me, and I shrink back into the sofa with a smile.
‘I couldn’t have kidnapped a better man,’ I say, grabbing a crumbly biscuit and nibbling at it.
‘Glad my captive prowess is showing. Hope you’ll give me a recommendation for my next stint hog-tied by some hottie.’ A dimple forms as he smiles. I want to lick it.
‘It’s all gone too far,’ I whisper. ‘I’m so sorry that I dragged you into all of this. You didn’t ask for any of it.’
Roman turns me to face him. ‘Hey. Shh. What’s happened has happened. There’s no point fussing over things we can’t change.’
It doesn’t stop the guilt, though. The guilt that I still couldn’t kill, even with Roman in danger. The guilt that Roman is here in the first place. The guilt that I’mletting him pleasure me after all of this stress I’ve brought him.
He guides me onto his lap, and I go willingly, steadying myself against his shoulders. His arms wrap around my waist, one hand dancing slowly up and down my spine, sending shivers of excitement through me.
Given a hundred years, I don’t think I’d ever tire of the heft of his muscle beneath me. The way his warmth seeps into my skin, even through our clothes.
