I run to them without thought, wrapping them both up in a fierce hug, my hand cups my daughter’s tear-stained face, her cheeks still bright pink from her recent cry.
“What happened here?” I demand, my body shaking with rage and shock. Relief at finding my family unharmed fills my chest, a small sob escaping my mouth which I muffle into Marigold’s shoulder.
“We’re alright, but oh my devils, you’re bleeding!” Marigold’s gloved hand comes away from my forehead stained with my blood. “Are you alright?”
“I don’t know what happened. I- I don’t remember.” I sway on my feet, and Marigold turns to quickly put Sarah in her crib.
“I’ll be right back, poppet.” She promises, then grabs me by the arm, stopping me from falling.
“Royland, would you be a dear, and fetch my bag from downstairs?”
His little face peeks into the room, before he gifts us a small smile and runs out of the room. The patter of his feet running down the stairs can be heard in the eerie silence of the house. My eyes catch on the man who tried to take my family from me. He’s unmoving, but clearly was a man of some means judging by his expensive apparel.
“Sit.” Marigold instructs, and not a moment too soon. My knees almost give out entirely as I find my way to the dusted off rocking chair, with Marigold managing to hold me upright. The chair creaks with my weight, giving away how out of use it’s been. Her fingers find the cut on my head again and I wince.
“Sorry.” She chews that bottom lip of hers and my eyes are immediately entranced. I might be woozy, but I’m still so enamored with the woman kneeling before me. She peels her gloves off and shoves them into her dress, that I’m just noticing is stained with blood.
“Are you hurt?” My hands grip her shoulders while my eyes flutter over her, checking for any harm. I’d just found her. I can’t lose her too. A fluttering of wings snags my attention. Were there birds in here?
She waves me off, setting my hands in my lap. “I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about. That’s quite the bump you have on your head.” Shaking her head and blinking back a shimmer of tears in her eyes she looks down almost as if in shame. “It’s all my fault.”
I still in the chair. “Your fault?” Head throbbing and room slightly spinning, I don’t comprehend her meaning.
“He was here for me.” Her words come out as a whisper, piercing through the fog that covers my brain.
“That man was here to hurt you?”
“Yes, I’m so sorry.”
“Why would you be apologizing for his choices?”
“Because-“
“No. Now you listen to me, Marigold. I might have this lump on my head, but you are not to blame for what he did. No matter what you may have done in the past, it doesn’t warrant his actions.”
She shakes her head, and it makes my vision spin. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I’d done.”
Her words hang in the air between us like a challenge, before Royland bursts through the door carpet bag in hand. What an ugly piece of fashion those are. That thought is the last one I remember before succumbing to the spinning room.
MARIGOLD
Scotland Yard has come and gone, taking the corpse of my ex-fiancé with them. A sense of finality comes over me. This whole time, I’d assumed it was my father’s men who had been trailing me, but it had been Charles all along. And now he was dead. Delivered to the depths of Hell by my hand.
A shiver shakes through my body, even though I’m wrapped in a pile of blankets in front of the fireplace. I couldn’t stomach the cup of tea that Ellen had brought me out earlier that has long gone cold. It sits on the small table next to me, full and untouched. The lemon on top looks soggy and curdled. My robe is tied tightly around my middle, feeling like it’s the only thing holding me together.
With the threat of Charles gone, I assumed I would feel some kind of relief, but instead, I feel a sense of foreboding. As if danger is right around the corner waiting to pounce. Surely, that’s because I’ve been on edge for so long. Constantly aware that someone was after me. That type of fear wreaks a person’s well-being. Unraveling that kind of thinking will take more than one night, I realize with a pang of disappointment. My magic could construct wondrous things, but the one thing it could never do was fix parts of me that had been damaged by life.
I turn over the cracked pendant in my hands. The gem glittering against the flickers of the fire. It had been a gift from Jasmine as a way to harness my untrained power. A crutch really. She’d warned me that one day I would no longer need it, and when that day came it would find its way off my neck. But now that the day has come, I don’t feel ready to part with it.
The children are long asleep as I sit here, attempting to seep some warmth into my bones from the fire. Thoughts of Barrett bleeding out before me haunt my thoughts. He doesn’t deserve someone like me. Someone full of darkness. Capable of murder. Not only capable, but someone that revels in it. The pleasure of watching the light snuff out of Charles’s remaining eye brought my twisted heart an immense amount of joy. After all, revenge runs in my blood.
“Can I join you?” Barrett deep timbre startles me. I see his dark, shadowy form come into view, noting that he’s also wearing his robe. As he stands awaiting my answer, my eyes take in his towering form. His gait is steadier than it had been earlier, though a bandage now sits wrapped around the top part of his head. Hair wildly sticking out in a mess around it. It’s annoying how handsome he is even in this state. I feel that familiar crack in the walls around my heart at seeing him. The man is burrowing his way past my defenses, making me weak in the knees. Shoving my pendant into my robe’s front pocket, I nod to him.
Nodding back, he sits in the chair opposite, reminding me of when I was first interviewed in this very room. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth, eyes locked on his features lit up by the fire. The shadows make his already sharp cheekbones look impossibly sharper giving him a haunted appearance. My gut twists knowing I’d brought the intruder into the house. Seeing his injury is just another reminder of how he’s better off without me. The wind can come take me away and spare him the trouble of wanting someone like me.
“Stop those spiraling thoughts, Marigold. I’m fine.”
My mouth opens and closes shut with a pop. I scold myself for the unladylike response, but then decide it doesn’t really matter. This man has seen me naked and caused me to orgasm around his length. My face heats from thinking about it.
