There’s a sudden tight ache behind my eyes, and I work to blink away the prickling tears.Don’t cry, Thea. Be brave, er something …
I clamp down on my jaw, hearing the cracks and snaps in my ears.
“You think you’ve escaped, that my grandson has shown you favor, but really you’re just a longtime toy.”
I swallow the sting of his words.
Edmond stammers, flustered. “Sir. Can I show you to the dining room? Perhaps get you a drink?”
“No.” Henry glances at the TV where Piper has been replaced by another journalist, and he grins. It’s a toothy grin I’m sure would be yellow and disgusting if his teeth weren’t bought andpaid for. He moves toward the kitchen table. “Seven-fifty-five can get me a drink. It’s a nice August day, why don’t you get us some iced tea? Unsweet of course, because it’s clear you haven’t been worried about what you consume these past weeks.”
I bristle but take the opportunity to duck away and open the refrigerator. I have zero clue whether there’s iced tea in here or not, but Stefan brushes past me and gestures with his head to the pitcher in the door.
Snatching it, I hip-check it shut and move around the island to where Stefan is filling two glasses with ice. I’m all too aware of the eyes following my every movement, or the tilt of his study as his attention dips between my breasts. I shudder, and he quirks the corner of his mouth.
When both glasses are full, I muster any shred of confidence I have left and usher the tea to the dinette where he waits. His suit creases and pulls as he rests one leg up and over his other knee and leans back harboring an appreciative stare. How an old man like himself still has the … virility you’d find on a college campus is beyond me. Then again, it’s all about the power, not necessarily the act itself. And power—that he has a carnal desire for.
“Sit,” he commands, and I do. Edmond looks at Stefan and then to me.
With a flick of his wrist, Henry dismisses them both. No words are exchanged, but the worry on Edmond’s face squeezes my heart a bit. I smile at him, giving him an all too forcedI’ll be finelook.
Stefan snaps off the TV, and they both exit the kitchen.
“I’ve been curious about you, seven-fifty-five … How have you managed to turn the head of my grandson who’s been so eager to please me up until your little stunt the night of the Culling?”
I blink. Clearly, Slade’s grandfather is unaware of his peddling GHB to the girls in efforts to woo them to use in the Severing. Or that he doesn’t use the girls he bids on at the Market. Nonetheless, I sit up straighter. “My name is Thea.”
“Oh, yes, yes. Every girl needs to push back. ‘My name is Thea,’” he mimics. “You’re a number. Earned it the day your father sold you.”
I swallow, working through the emotions the mention of Phil brings up. It shouldn’t, but I think most little girls desire their father’s attention and love. To have that shredded, in the way he treated my saint of a mother, or any hope of reconciliation demolished when he chose booze money over his own daughter—it earns acknowledgement.
Knowledge of Slade’s mother being the one Severed stops on the tip of my tongue. I want to lash out with it, use it to watch him squirm. Perhaps ask about her fate, more so formycuriosity. Slade said the women aren’t killed as part of the ceremony. It’s the guilt afterward the initiate can’t live with that compels them to act. But what if someone volunteered?
I take a sip of my tea, and he shadows me, doing the same.
“You’re very beautiful. I can see why my grandson is taken with you, and why the other men demand your return.” He must have noticed the slight widening of my eyes because he twists his lips. “I’m sure they’ll be happy to learn I’ve made it my personal mission to see to it Graves rectifies the situation.” He takes another sip of his tea, while mine sours in my stomach. “Should’ve never happened in the first place. He’s avoiding his meetings, skipping out from work early, his staff oversteps, and his backyard is abysmal. Is he not having the grass cut back here? Your presence is a blight on him and his productivity.”
My brow furrows, glancing at the backyard that extends toward the lake. Is that why the lawn is long in the back? Is he not having it cut? I’ve been relishing the dandelions, pickingthem and leaving them in tiny jars around the house, especially since Slade has been gone. Why isn’t the lawn-care personnel cutting it?
“It’s a miracle he’s actually in D.C. securing EV’s interests.”
I startle away from the window and dissect that. “EV’s interests?”
“And mine, of course.” Henry leers at me, but I don’t back down this time.
“I think Slade has some good ideas he’d like to work toward, if he was able to do what he was elected to do.”
He nearly spits out his tea with a boisterous laugh. “You have no clue how politics work. Your naivety is endearing.”
A dribble of liquid seeps from the corner of his mouth, and I stare at it. Maybe. Clearly. Aren’t we all then? Most of us average people don’t walk around with knowledge of secret societies and clubs run by the very men society typically respects. Growing up you’re taught about stranger danger, to avoid the creepy man using his bunnies to lure you in, but you’re not taught that the politicians you elect harbor grotesque secrets, or that the billionaires that should use their money for good, use it to purchase humans like cattle. I’m not naive anymore, but even in this dark world, Slade wants reform. He has a drive to see better for young kids, who, like him, love to read, and he should use his platform to be the exception to the very sad rule that every politician is out for himself.
I lean back, choosing to ignore him and remain silent. Suddenly, Slade’s need to do the same becomes clearer. He deemed his voice not loud enough; perhaps he remained silent to help conceal his true motives behind closed lips. Either way, it makes sense. I focus out the window at the lake instead.
“I see my grandson has rubbed off on you, too.” He chuckles, downing the rest of his tea.
Leave, I want to say.Get out.
I say nothing.
