I reach for his forearm, heavy over my chest, and I dig my nails in.
“Faust,” I whisper.
He stirs.
Slowly at first, then with a jolt, as if I burned him. I see his dark eyes snap open in the dimness of his room. Only the whites, really, without my glasses, but it’s enough.
“Faust.” I say it again, swallowing past the dryness of my throat. “Someone is screaming.”
The camera flickers,then a figure is there. In the small office that houses monitors showing the only camera angles that work anymore, I take her in.
Dark hair. Pale face under the moonlight. Cream, wool trench, the belt tied tight. But it’s only her clothes that look put together. The rest of her is a mess.
“Is Sylvan here?” She hiccups the words as she scuffs one platform Mary Jane in the dirt and snow. Her voice is grainy from the camera, but we hear her perfectly.
She hugs herself and twists back and forth. In the dark light and the copse of dead winter trees weighted with snow and ice, she looks eerie. “I just want to talk to him. Frostbite, I just want to talk to you, please. Please, baby. My phone is gone. Please hear me.”
I clench my fingers into fists as I turn to look over my shoulder.
Sylvan is there. Staring at me. His hair is sticking up at all angles, his silver-blue eyes sharp, but the shadows beneath them dull.
“What did you tell her to make her believe you loved her?”
He tilts his head. “Whatever is going through your pretty mind, stop,” he whispers.
“Did you tell her you love her?” I press as Tasia whines for him, her voice breaking on a drunken sob. “When you fucked her, did you promise her forever?—”
“Does that sound like something I’d do, baby girl?” He leans closer, his lips over mine. “I thought you knew me better than that.”
I shift my eyes up, to Faust, on my other side. He’s my lie detector. Our leader. The only man I’d willingly submit to.
“He’s a dick,” he says softly. It’s his attempt at levity despite the fact his tone is full of granite. “He didn’t make her any promises, North.”
Tasia screams Sylvan’s name and I clench my teeth. If she keeps that up, I’m going to drag her off this property myself.
Then she says, “You don’t want, Neve, baby. Neve is a whore! She’s a stupid, slutty whore and?—”
“I’m going to kill her.” Sylvan turns on his heel and yanks open the thick door to the surveillance room. Low light pools in as Tasia continues her tirade against me, and I look to Faust again.
Somewhere in this house, Cynthia and Tye are sleeping, and if Cyn hears her, she’ll help Sylvan with the murder.
We’re all dressed; were before we left the bedroom, each of us in black sweats and hoodies. And so all Sylvan needs is his boots, and his coat.
“Why is she here?” I whisper, staring at the screen as she embarrasses herself. She must be drunk, and she’s moaning about her phone, but my understanding is she’s come from a rich family. Why haven’t they bought her a new one? Or maybe they have, but Sylvan won’t answer her.
“She wants his dick.”
I clench my teeth and cut my gaze to Faust. “And you’re okay with that?”
“No, North.” He tilts his head. “But he doesn’t want her. Because of us.”
“Us.” I repeat the word, my voice cracking.
Tasia screams Sylvan’s name on camera. I want to explode, but I don’t look at her.
“This?” Faust jerks his chin toward me. “It’s us. The three of us.”
“What happens when?—”
