Turning, Luther raked his gaze over me in search of the problem. He always seemed to do that. To observe and assess meas if I were something to tend to and care for. Endearing most of the time, but now it made me feel twitchy. Uncomfortable.
Even when Luther hadn’t been here, traces of his existence had. There had to be a reasonable explanation for why. But words failed me as I tried to formulate the necessary questions. I stepped back, swallowing over a lump in my throat as time stretched in cruel silence.
“You’ve been here,” I whispered.
His head tipped to the side, expression blank. “I thought we went over this.”
“No. Not with my grandfather years ago. Recently. You were here. In my home.”
Luther tensed, moving as slowly as a predator as he crossed his arms over his chest. A muscle in his jaw clenched. His dominating presence didn’t feel so comforting suddenly. It morphed into an overbearing darkness before my very eyes—into the tidal wave I’d feared would drown me from the beginning.
A nervous shiver worked through me.
“Yes, I was.”
I jolted at the abrupt confession. A shocked gasp breached me, and his sea-storm eyes held my gaze. Challenging me to question him.
“Why?” It was half a sob, and I hated it.
Luther had eaten the distance between us without me noticing. Stalking forward into my personal space until he towered over me. His chest rose and fell with each heavy breath he took.
“To protect you, sweetheart.” His voice was deceptively suave. “Any one of those monsters could have broken in and gotten to you when you arrived in Kilbride. They could have—no, would have—hurt you at the first chance that presented itself.”
“You were in my personal space. You… you were watching me.” A prickling sense of dread clawed down my spine. A weight dropped in my stomach.
“I had to ensure you weren’t in danger,” he said, lip curling into a sneer. “I did what needed to be done, and I always will. Everything I’ve done was for you, whether you like it or not. I protect what’s mine, sweetheart, and that’s you. You’re mine.”
“I don’t belong to you!” All the fear and rage burst out of me. “This is so fucked up. So fucking fucked up!” I shrieked at him, slamming my fists into his chest to create space between us.
Luther moved to grab my wrists, but I whisked out of the way.
“Ophelia—”
“No… No, I don’t want to hear any more of this. Get out.” My throat felt raw, and I was on the verge of tears. “Just—fucking—get out!”
Luther stared me down, fists clenched at his sides. “You don’t really mean that.”
I snarled back, “Get the fuck out!”
A bitterly tense second split the air. I held my breath, unsure if he would listen or if I’d need to make a run from him.
Luther growled under his breath, the sound revving through his chest. His dark eyes cleaved through me as he stormed by.
I froze into stone, shivering from his body heat as he passed. I shut my eyes, staunching the flood of tears threatening to break loose.
The front door slammed hard enough to rattle the walls and shake the foundation of the home. Still, I didn’t move. It wasn’t until I heard tires peeling away that I finally sobbed, gasping for air as I collapsed to my knees.
Luther was gone.
28
Dead girls didn’t have to worry about their professor breaking into their home. They didn’t have to worry about the consequences of having an affair with their teacher, a man old enough to be their father, and apparently an absolute psychopath. Dead girls didn’t have to fear who among the rich and elite in town were secretly worshipers of an ancient, eldritch owl god intent on sacrificing them. They simply got to close their eyes for the rest of eternity and rot alongside the worms in their bones.
Once again, I found myself morbidly envious of the dead.
And more exhausted than ever before.
A hint of sunlight slanted through a gap in the curtains, a pale yellow nearly obscured by the encroaching gray of another storm. I sighed and dropped into the wingback chair in my grandfather’s study. My legs had carried me there without fully realizing it. A room steeped in secrets and mystery, where the horrible truth of my bloodline had been hidden under my nose.
