It was right there in front of me…
Niklaus eyes me before he replies. Like he is enjoying my reaction as he pokes at a bruise.
Don’t you fucking cry in front of him. Don’t you dare.
“Just having fun.”
Mabel Rose is a statue. No longer a human woman with a splitting, aching heart.
My upper body quivers first, then I bubble into hysterical laughter. It weaves and flutters up my throat in a contagious fit.
“Fun?” I place my hand over my mouth to contain myself.
Niklaus glides his stare to me. Cold, curious, creeping amusement.
“You think you’re showing her a good time?” I swat Krimson’s steadying hand away. “Fun would require your dick to be bigger than a pencil. Fun would require you to know what to do with a woman’s pussy in order to make her come. Fucking you wouldn’t befun. It would becharity.”
I smile wider as my mom rises from her chair to stop me. The rest of the table does something similar.
Niklaus raises a devious brow. “You want me to pull it out to measure, Spitfire?”
I don’t pay him a second glance. “And you.” I rise from my seat to point at the traitor. “My best friend? Youactuallyfell for him, didn’t you?”
But it’s the way she stares back at me, unyielding and prepared for this reaction that summons a thought. My brother once warned me about Mabel Rose when we were twelve. He connected the dots when we met her parents. He told me she is the distant cousin of someone our mother killed in the asylum.
Belinda was her name.
I told Krimson that meant nothing. Mabel Rose swore to me she didn’t even know Belinda and their families weren’t close… But what if they were?
And all I can see is red. Fire. Brimstone. Ash.Betrayal.Betrayal. Betrayal.
“Come on, sit down,” my mother barks.
But Mabel Rose continues staring at me. The vacant eyes of a trickster that has little regard for their victim. A mask of innocence with a hint of relief that I’m making a fool of myself in front of my family.
It’s what Krimson warned against, isn’t it?
Belinda.
Belinda.
Belinda.
“You did it on purpose…didn’t you?” I say breathlessly.
My throat tightens up as I wait for her answer.
Krimson’s chair groans under him as he adjusts his weight.
Mabel Rose holds my gaze without blinking.
“You should drink some water, Sapphire. You’re becoming hysterical.”
My last bit of patience explodes.
The glowing memories I had of our childhood together melts under a flame. The edges of each fond recollection I have of her curls and blackens at the corners, burning and fraying. This new Mabel Rose I have yet to see. Yet to interact with.
She is no longer my childhood best friend.
