Cosmo’s father, too.
Sanford. Constance. Arthur. Rex.
The idiotic drivers who landed themselves at the mercy of a dead fool. The bodies of the guards who were at this home are burning as well.
The tinted SUVs have been towed, a connection Isadora and Von had, thanks to Writhe.
Writhe.
Tomorrow, someone from the cult will arrive.
But that is tomorrow’s problem, and not tonight’s.
“You are gorgeous.” I whisper the words in the dark, the bathroom fan on to give us a greater illusion of privacy. Sullen asked if it would bother me, if he turned it on.
I want him to relax. I want him to know he is safe now, here, and so I said no. Not at all. Nothing can bother me, if I have him. It truly does feel that way. And while Writhe will likely want his head—Stein Rule was once the leader, after all, and there must be punishment for that—and even if they allow him to live, there will be a fight over us together, it does not seem to matter right now.
Right now, what matters is we survived.
Isa and Von will have to handle what happens to Alivia and the rest of the Emporium dinner party. They know too much now after all, but Writhe cannot murder all four of them without consequence, and they will not go after Cosmo, on account of what he already knows about us all.
On account of him being Klein’s son.
I think of what it will be like to speak to Cosmo alone. No doubt he will want to know his father’s last words, last thoughts, lastsomething.
But that, too, can be dealt with later.
Sullen lifts his eyes, long lashes damp from when I splashed him the moment we first settled in.
Our knees touch, but nothing else. My hair is up, braided and curled on top of my head, thanks to Isa. Once we had all showered, she did it silently, as we sat around the dining table.
I did not stop her.
Anything to not think about what I have done.
Pink blossoms on Sullen’s cheekbones. “Stop,” he whispers, but there is a soft smile curled on his plush mouth.
“Never.” I feel drunk, despite the fact the only thing I have had all day is water. There is a giddiness in my chest I have never known without alcohol. “I’m in love with you.” I have already told him I loved him, but I need him to know the truth, even if he does not say it back.
His eyes still. His entire body. I see the muscles along his shoulders stiffen. The lump at his throat roll.
I hate what was done to him, but I am going to love him so deep, so hard, it will cover it all up. He will be the most loved boy in the entire world if it is up to me.
“I’m so in love with you,” I whisper. “I want this. Whatever this turns out to be, I want it, Sully.”
His breath catches, lips parted. He is staring at me in a way that says he does not yet trust love, but he so very much wants to.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I carry on, content to speak where he cannot or will not. “You don’t have to love me back… yet.” I grin at him, and I swear his eyes grow lighter. “So long as you don’t love anyone else, either.” My mind drifts to Maude.
If they touched one another, if she put her hands on him, I do not care what history she recorded that I will use later to bargain with Writhe. I will murder her.
I have gotten a taste for it now.
And it looks as if he sees that, in my eyes, because he lifts his chin and he says, “Come here, Little Sun.”
My heart races. Trips.Little Sun.
His Sun.
