“Why, Slade?”
“I had to.”
She shakes her head, plucking the bunch of dandelions from the jar with such force that the tops lose a few of their puffy seeds. She shakes them in her fist as more choked sobs rip from her. The tip of her nose is cherry red, and I focus there, trying not to snap.
“They hate me. They think I’ve left them out to dry. I’m the one person who’s gotten out of that hellhole and I’m such a coward that I didn’t do more!”
“You can’t do more, Thea. I’m watched. Everything is under Echelon Vanguard’s watchful eye. This isn’t a fraternity you can remove yourself from. This is life and death. It’s not a crime family brotherhood, or an equal partnership where there’s give and take. This is a deal with the devil—you sell your soul. I sold my soul! I’m doing what I can to help, to work undercover as much as possible to manipulate things, but … it’s complicated now. So, don’t ask me to leave you. Don’t. I couldn’t,can’t,won’t.”
“But why?!”
“Because I love you, damn it!” I yell. “Because I could never forgive myself if Graves or that perverted cartel member got their hands on you.”
“Is that some sort of obsessive, possessive thing?” She pulls down the curls around her face, allowing them to stretch and spring up. Then she fidgets with the clip holding half her hair back.
“What? No. Thea, please.”
“I can’t right now, Slade. I asked you … You promised not to bid on me. The guilt was already eating me alive. You see this?” She points to her bruised ribs, and I reach out gently to touch them with the pads of my fingertips, but she jerks away. I huff out an irritated growl. “I don’t blame them for this. Juliette was right. I shouldn’t be able to just waltz back in there like I hadn’t received special treatment.”
I snort, shifting the frames on my sweaty face. “You think Juliette would’ve given the rest of the girls a second thought? If I’d grabbed her from the Culling that night, saved her, do you think she would be tormented over the girls back there? Not for one damn minute, Thea. She’d run with it, she’d remain silentin fear for her life, and she’d do whatever was required of her to stay safe. You’re feeling guilty for surviving, for getting out, when most others wouldn’t, and I love you for it. But damn it, please don’t hate me because I love you. Please don’t hate me for doing what comes the most natural for me—protecting you.”
The rigid lines in her creased brow soften, her eyes shifting into something more tender. “I don’t hate you, Slade. I could never.”
“Do you trust me?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Despite you ignoring your promise not to bid on me? I … yes.”
“Then we need to bide our time, but I think when it’s right?—”
“Time? We don’t have time, Slade. Those girls look rough: skinny, used, broken. There won’t be time before the Eight decide they aren’t worth housing anymore, and they’ll Cull them only to bring in new girls. The cycle will repeat. We can’t let that happen. Let me help, let me?—”
“No.”
Her eyes bore into mine, and she doesn’t flinch. “Let me, Slade. I will be your?—”
“This isn’t up for discussion.” I clench my jaw, knowing what she’s going to say. “There isn’t another position on the Eight available to go through the Severing.”
She crosses her arms in front of her chest and avoids looking at me for the rest of the ride.
The limo turns onto the lake road, slowly approaching the lake house, and the high-alert panic coursing through my veins seeps away. She’s home.We’rehome.
When we pull up to the front doors, they open, and Edmond and Stefan shove their way out of them. Red sauce is spilled over Stefan’s white chef coat, and he pulls Edmond’s suit jacket from the back, propelling himself forward first.
Thea wipes at her face and bounds out of the car. Stefan wraps her in a large hug, and Edmond jumps in and strong-arms them both.
I get out and walk past the cuddle session, moving through the doors, hungry and frustrated—no, pissed off. They follow, laughing, while Stefan says he’s finishing dinner, and Edmond tells her he’s freshly pressed her favorite pajamas.
I divert to the dining room, prepared to sit in my seat and wait for my meal like a grouchy ass. I haven’t eaten since the news she’d been pulled back to EV, haven’t been able to stomach anything. So, I’m starving, but the nausea is just as bad. It’s a mixed bag of leftover panic, consuming dread, and worse outcomes swimming in my mind.
Thea walks ahead, I’m assuming to change, and I round the long table and pull out the chair at the head. I stare at the threshold, my back molars grinding.
I’m not sure how long I sit there, slouched down and irritated, but my mind wanders, and I’m startled by Thea rounding the dining room door. Only she hasn’t changed. She’s still in the red lingerie, with makeup still caked on her face. It’s the color of deep crimson with a satin sheen that catches the low dining room light. The bra is nearly all sheer mesh, and the bottoms are just as bad, low on her hips.
She’s got a box of Frosted Flakes under one arm and two bowls with spoons in the other. She attempts to raise them to show me with a grin before spinning and shutting the dining room door.
“Figured you wouldn’t want to wait until Stefan was done with his seven-course meal. I heard your stomach growling all the way here.” She sets the bowls on the table and grabs the brand-new box from under her arm. “Stole this from the pantry before Stefan could see me. Want some?”
I narrow my eyes at her. “What are you doing? Why haven’t you changed?”
