The brunette dye covers up the yellow just like how her breathy voice is nothing like Lucy’s contralto.
Good.
TWO
JUST IN CASE
DALLAS
Heather rises from her seat, offering me a small smile as she smooths out the wrinkles in her skirt. “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon.”
I nod, not sure how to answer that. See me soon? If the society has it their way, she’ll be stuck with me for the rest of our lives, though I know better than most that an Order marriage doesn’t mean that we actuallyare.
A wife in name only. That’s what this is. A political marriage, one that I’ll consummate, then forget about for as long as anyone will let me…
Following Heather’s lead, Adrian also stands. I realize too late that I should’ve been the one to offer, but it’s my cousin who says, “I’ll walk you out,” while my ass stays firmly planted to Jack’s old seat.
Her heels click softly as they leave the office together, the door closing behind them with a final, echoing sound. I know Adrian. He never does anything without a motive, and in this case, he has at least two. He’ll want to reassure Heather that this marriage is something I want—because no one is a better liarthan Adrian Heller—before he sends her on her way, then takes a few minutes to flirt with my secretary once Heather’s in the elevator, on the way down to the lobby.
I’m alone, the sudden silence in the near-empty office closing in on me.
For a few heavy heartbeats, I don’t move at all. I just stare over the desk, searching for the ghosts forever haunting me, before I suddenly lean forward. I don’t have to look to find the handle on the upper right drawer. It’s there, and I tug it open like I’ve done way too many times lately.
The gun is cold when I wrap my fingers around the grip and take it out. I check the weight, the balance of it almost absently. Muscle memory takes over as I lift up the Ruger, allowing the mouth of the pistol to kiss my temple.
Just for a second.
Just to see if the thought of pulling the trigger and ending it all scares me like it should.
It doesn’t. It hasn’t in a long, long time, and I wonder if it wouldn’t be easier to do it. To blow my fucking brains out before I take another innocent down with me. One little flick of my finger. One tug. Heather could find some other Owed to Claim her and?—
The door to my office opens, then closes as Adrian slips back inside much sooner than I expected.
The footsteps stop. I hear him sigh before he says, “Put it down.”
His voice is calm.Toocalm.
Put it down, Adrian? Why should I do that? When the gun fits so perfectly in my hand, and I swear I hear Jack’s voice on the suffocating air, goading me, telling me to do it, telling me that the Order deserves a King withballs?—
My cousin crosses the room in a series of quick, long strides. One moment he’s standing in front of the door, waiting for me todrop the piece. The next? He’s in front of my desk, leaning over it so that he can take it from my hand before I decide whether I want to stop him or not.
“Jesus Christ, Dallas,” he mutters, pressing a button near the trigger guard so that he can release and remove the magazine. Pocketing it, he tosses the useless gun onto the desktop. “You going for dramatics out of revenge for me dragging your ass out of bed or were you actually going to do it this time?”
That’s Adrian for you. Anyone else would worry about my mental health if they caught me in the throes of suicidal ideation. Only my cousin would know that, deep down, I’m too much of a pussy to pull the trigger after all—and too goddamn stubborn to give anyone the satisfaction of getting rid of me that easily.
Hell, if I made it through losing MomandLucy, there isn’t anything I won’t survive. That doesn’t mean I can’t think about it or take solace in the familiar weight of my gun. Leaving it where it is, I lean back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling instead, once again ignoring the knowing look in Adrian’s deceptively soft green eyes.
He sighs again. “C’mon. You agreed to this.”
“Had no other choice, did I?”
That’s not true. I could walk away. It’s not often that an Owed leaves the society behind—once you get branded-in, it’s as much of a ‘til death do us part’ sitch as getting hitched is—but Icoulddo it.
Or I could?—
“Not at all.” Adrian’s answer is so simply stated, I can’t help but jerk my head, looking at him as he tugs on the edge of his suit jacket sleeve.
“Thanks.”
