She’s smiling. Laughing.
It’s a special kind of agony that it’s not with me, even though I’m glad she is.
My car idles low, but I don’t shut it off. I’m driving today, which is rare, but I had to see her. Told Edmond I needed to meet with Kenji, though, that was a lie.
Instead, I’m parked across the street from a bar and grill while the sun sets behind the Chicago skyline and saturated clouds roll in. The restaurant glows from within, the light spilling through the wall of windows that allows anyone to see into it and onto the sidewalk.
And there she is.
She’s at the middle table, pressed against the glass, her back half turned, sitting next tohim. There’s a couple across from them overly immersed in each other, but still, Thea smiles. It’s bright and open—I growl—it used to be mine.
I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles ache. Trevor leans close, and the only thing keeping me from going in there is thefact that she’s pulling away. In the twenty minutes I’ve been watching her, she hasn’t once glanced toward the window. I wish she would. I wish she’d look out as though she were missing something.
I fight the chant ofmine, mine, minein my head. She’s her own woman. Back in school and thriving, she’s living outside of EV, outside of … me. My stomach knots into something hot and sour as I watch what I could’ve had with her play out. But instead of bars and grills, we’d be at the nicest place in Chicago because that’s what she deserves.
Drive away, I tell myself.
But as I move to pull off, one of them says something that makes her laugh, truly laugh to the point where her head tips back. I wish I could hear it. My chest burns. I stare at her, imagining what would happen if I got out of the car to remind her I exist.
I’ll never be able to move on. Not really. I don’t know why I thought I could.
Cigar smoke disrupts my thoughts of Thea as I walk into the Sovereign Chamber later that evening. I sat there watching her and her friends until the rain began and darkness settled over the busy street. Even then, I watched her when she left, making sure she was alone. It’s selfish, but I don’t care.
Then I ended up here. The one place I don’t want to be but need to. Every inch reminds me of her.
“Congressman DuPont.” Graves’s gruff voice leaches from across the table where seven of the Eight sit. “Good of you to join us, and congratulations on your literacy program.”
I’m not sure if he’s mocking me, considering when I met the man he quite literally drew me away from my purpose, the reason I ran for office in the first place.
I dip my chin toward him, then acknowledge the other six men in the room. They didn’t cover up the last and final chair that used to house my grandfather. They’ve made it obvious they’re lacking an eighth member, and I’m that reason.
Graves gestures toward the empty chair. “As you can see, we have an opening. The decision has been unanimous. We believe that it is only fitting for another DuPont to take his place.”
Another member of the Eight snorts. “Henry was a disaster. What Graves is really saying is that the next DuPont can’t be worse than the first.”
Graves frowns, but nods.
Carefully, I watch them, these so-called elite members of Echelon Vanguard who took women that didn’t belong to them, purchased them to profit off. They tookmyThea. The plan hasn’t changed—worming my way into the Eight was always the goal. I just hadn’t planned on Thea. Though … now … now she’s my new purpose. A reminder of what the Chicago chapter did to these women. Taking my grandfather’s place around this table, as a leader, as one of the Eight, will allow me to further my agenda of dismantling the corruption in this organization to further suck the poison from this city.
Years, my brain alerts me.It will take years to bring them down.
Thea.
My mind fights the idea. It’s a bitter thing, signing my name to a future I don’t want the responsibility of. To know I’m bartering away more pieces of myself, and with Thea gone, I don’t have an anchor. This seat, the power that comes with it, is the inheritance from my grandfather. Maybe I’m the only one who can survive it long enough to affect it.
But Thea …
I tell myself I want her safe, far away from the rot that drips inside these underground walls. Though the truth … the truth is I’m selfish. I want her here. I need her close. I want her laugh to cut through the weight of all this. Her dandelions decorating my home. Her cookies that never quite turn out.
Hell, I think my obsession might kill me. My chest tightens as I look at each of the men. The weight of her clawing at my heart—I wish I could rip it out. What’s the point of it if I can’t love her, have her? The obsessive drive is insane. It eats me alive, more so than any amount of darkness I could encounter here. And yet, love tempers it. Keeps me from dragging that Trevor boy out on his ass. Keeps me from pounding on her door and dragging her back in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep.
That’s the cruelest part about it all. If it were only obsession, I wouldn’t care what was left of her.
Thea risked her life for others. She gave Tonya her only way to escape. Offered herself when she shouldn’t run. Attempted to blow the lid off EV with Piper, who’s still missing. Thea doesn’t just survive—she does exactly what her mother told her to do all those years ago. Even now, I’m sure she’s thinking of the girls who were shipped out to other chapters. And here I am, trying to contend with keeping her safe while more and more powerful men gain access to Echelon Vanguard. We need to burn it all down.
The question burns through my chest before I can stop it. Thea. The Offering.Am I brave enough to let her get hurt if it means saving the others?
“DuPont?” Graves knocks on the cherrywood table.
