“I lied for you,” I bite out, unable to keep it in anymore.
His body goes rigid, and he looks surprised, brows lifted, corners of his mouth tugged down.
“To the detective. I lied about you at my place, and what you did.” My voice is shakier than I want it to be, but I don’t back down. “Show some gratitude and stop acting like a spoiled brat.”
He glances down at that, a smirk curving his lips. “I think I just gave you my thanks.”
“You’re disgusting.” I try to turn in Faust’s arms, ready to go, but he doesn’t let me move.
“Tell her thank you,” Faust demands.
Sylvan’s jaw jumps, his gaze darting from me, to Faust, and back again.
“If it weren’t for her, you might be in a cell right now.”
“But maybe you deserve to be,” I whisper, voicing my fear out loud. Did he do it? To Jackson? Will? Both? Or does he somehow know who did? It doesn’t make any sense. The timeframe from that Wednesday night when I found Jackson on his back, lifeless, it doesn’t make fucking sense.
Then again, I was scared, and running, and it was incredibly dark.
My sense of time could have been disoriented.
Sylvan could have killed him in the shadows.
He stares blankly at me, and that expression is more chilling than any he’s shown to me before. “Thank you,” he says, detached. Almost robotic. Then he adds, “Faust told me someone has been fucking with you.”
My skin crawls and I turn in Faust’s arms, glaring at him.
“He needed to know,” he says.
“Why?” I demand. “You two my bodyguards or?—”
“We’re worse than that,” Sylvan says behind me. “We’re your killers.”
I stare at Faust, trying to read some truth in his eyes.
“If that number texts you again,” Sylvan says softly, “I want to know about it.”
“That’s what we wanted to discuss,” Faust says soothingly. “Everything else,” he glances down at my hips, “I think we needed.”
I don’t say anything for a moment. Then I feel suddenly weak.
I duck my head against Faust’s chest and after a breath of what feels like surprise in his muscular body, he wraps his arms around me and holds me close. My fingertips are under my chin as I try to hide against him, and I don’t know what I’m hiding from.
It’s just a lot, and maybe I haven’t processed it, or maybe I need food or maybe… I’m falling deeper than I thought.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “I… I should go.” But I don’t pull away. I know I have to soon though. Cynthia will come looking for me. The longer I make her wait, the more lies I have to tell, because there’s no way I can confess what just happened.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Faust whispers against the top of my head.
He makes me feel boneless. Melted. I wish I could sleep right here against him.
“Although if anyone touches you like that and I’m not there, you might.” The warning surprises me, and I lift my head, our eyes locking.
He doesn’t smile.
A thrill of fear runs through me.
But before I can say anything, there’s a sharp rap at the door.
