The five of us, plus Karter most nights, have been spending so much time together, so many nights within the castle, that Mr. Bennet has called every other day to make sure I’m safe, taunting me with a copy ofThe Freud-Jung Lettershe saved for me.
Faust grabs my wrist, squeezing tight.
Just last night I held his cock like that, and Sylvan’s in my other hand. Making them come in tandem inside my mouth was a high I never expected.
“Because I don’t want to be anywhere you aren’t.”
The words stagger me.
I suck in a breath, the late-winter air cold in my lungs, and I think about Mom’s offer. To move back in with her.
She said Marty would gladly have me back.
Because Nolan was always the problem.
Mom said he threatened to kill Marty when they first started dating. Mailed stick-figure drawings of Marty with knife wounds, bleeding out.
She cut off contact because she thought he would never hurt me, and she didn’t want me to have to choose.
I don’t forgive her for it.
He could have hurt me, too.
Did, in more ways than she realizes.
But it makes more sense, softens the blow. She’s got his ashes now, and while there was no funeral, I hope, maybe, they bring a wicked sense of peace.
“But…” I trail off, my eyes bouncing to Sylvan.
I once thought him psychopathic. Cold. And now I know perhaps there’s some truth to both, but with his jaw clenched and those perfect lips pressed together as he fights for all of us to be one, I know he would never hurt me. Not unless I wanted it.
“What about you?” I whisper, thinking of his reasons for playing. The ones he divulged to me in quiet mornings together, up before Faust.
To escape.
To run.
“I only ever played to get away. And now I have. With both of you.” He cuts his eyes to Faust. “Sign the fucking contract. We’ll move to Chicago when she graduates.”
“But you won’t be able to finish school—” I cut in.
“They don’t have a university there?” Sylvan volleys back, raising a brow.
“You’d… transfer?” I ask, shivering in the night.
“Don’t ask stupid questions, Vee.” But his dimple deepens as he gazes at me. “And there’s a Jung certification program there, too.”
My heart races. Of course he looked.
“But Tasia might miss you too much if she comes back to look for you,” I tease. But I’m not teasing. She went home. Dropped out. Claims it was Ace’s death that made her leave.
I’m not so sure it wasn’t Sylvan’s public love of me, but either way, she’s gone.
Sylvan’s eyes narrow. “You’re a fucking brat. You know it’s just you, don’t you?”
“Just us,” Faust says softly, his grip still on my wrist.
I look to him, his dark eyes wholly on mine. “Just us,” I repeat. “So sign the fucking contract, baby.”
SYLVAN
Seems almost unfair that Nolan Devine’s reputation is completely ruined in death. But I suppose if he lived, he would have served four life sentences. And as I watch my girl with my boyfriend, and Tylone and Cynthia, all of us around the big round table in the dining room of what’s essentially our home now—murder brings you together in that way—I wonder if Neve would hate me if she knew the truth.
I don’t think so, though.
That’s what makes us perfect for one another.
Will was in Nolan’s sight.
But I got there first.
