I may be drawn to this girl, but I’m not about to give her tips on how to win this bet. I want her to stay, too. “Use that nerdy little brain of yours.” I give her one more smile, and as I pull the door, she calls me again.
I step back in. “Yes?”
Her cheeks are slightly blushing. “I was wondering… Could I have a razor, please?”
I cock a brow at her. “What for?”
“To shave, obviously.”
I look down her body as if I can see the hair through her clothes. “No way. No sharp objects.”
Her shoulders droop. “Please? I look like I’ve been growing fur for the winter.”
I chuckle, lean on the doorjamb, and slide my hands into my pockets. “No. Sharp. Objects. Especially not before The Hunt. Maybe after, we’ll see.”
Her face hardens. “After The Hunt I’ll be free to go and buy my own damn razor.”
I snort, push off the doorframe. “Okay, princess, sure thing. Goodnight.” I give her a wink and leave, clicking the door shut behind me.
I want her to stay, but I’d also love to see her fuck Caden up a little too. However, there is no way I’m giving her anything she could use as a weapon against my cousin. Whether that was her intention or not, I’m not risking it.
Once I’m halfway down the hall, I let myself think back to the book. I could have told her, but what difference would it actually make? She doesn’t know Caden; how his actions always speak louder than his words relating to every emotion that exists. If I told her, she’d spit it back at me like some piece of chewed-up paper.
But it’s a huge sentiment.
The book El’s ploughing through dubiously is a piece of Caden that no one else has touched before. It’s always been weird to me how he’s protected it like the pages are made of wafer-thin glass. It’s his favourite, most sacred thing.
And he gave it to Elodie.
This is the biggest deal. A peace offering in a language only Caden and the ones closest to him can speak.
It won’t mean anything to her. Caden is still a monster, and Elodie is still his prisoner.
But Caden giving Elodie that book means something huge to him. It either means he’s apologising to her… or declaring his fucking love for her. Maybe it’s his way of thanking her for saving his life. Who fucking knows? You can never tell with Caden. But this is big… and I don’t think he knows how to deal with it.
CHAPTER 35
ELODIE
I’ve read through the book. There’s nothing to it but engines and oil. It must be a torture tactic. To give me the most boring book in the world and encourage my last slither of sanity to slip between the handlebars and out the exhaust. But it did give my brain something to do. Still gave me stimulation that nothing else in this house has.
I won’t admit that to Caden though.
Not that I’ve had many opportunities to speak with him. I’ve barely seen him since he handed it to me yesterday. I should be pleased, should be grateful he can’t stand to be around me, but all it does is unnerve me. I’m waiting for him to pop up like a Jack-in-the-box around every corner. But I know he’s watching. I know he’s on his phone, staring through the cameras. That’s why I don’t have Alfie acting as my shadow anymore, because Caden can always keep an eye on me now.
Nothing’s made my skin crawl more than that fact.
I’ve walked the halls already. I know my way around pretty well now. To the places I need to get to anyway, which isn’t many in comparison to how many there are in this dark, miserable house. There are still parts I haven’t ventured to and Alfie hasn’tshown me, so I’m guessing they’re out of bounds as well. I make sure to throw my middle finger up at any camera I walk past, letting that creepy prick know that I know he’s there. And I hate him.
I trained with Alfie this morning, dodged Fiz’s groping hands all afternoon. Caden wasn’t there for dinner tonight, Fiz told me he’s resting from his injury. I’m hoping he doesn’t heal too well in the next couple days, so I can keep the edge for Hunt Night.
Fiz is nowhere to be seen. Maggie’s clearing away our plates in the dining room just beyond the lounge. Alfie’s unboxing a delivery package on the coffee table. I’m sitting on the sofa, watching him, an open packet of Hobnobs in my lap. Alfie’s keeping the snack cupboard topped up now; it’s my one respite in this hellhole.
“Aha!” Alfie says, lifting out the contents of the cardboard box.
“What is it?”
“It’s a Zen garden.” He places the bags and smaller boxes on the table beside his Marvel Avengers Tower Lego set.
