Caden smiles, a small, subtle thing that looks foreign on his face.
Milo turns back to me. “If you ever need anything, Miss Valor, I’m your guy. Have a good evening. And welcome to the family.” With another one of those oddly settling smiles, he disappears into the crowd.
Caden motions for me to sit down again.
“He seems nice,” I note, mostly to myself.
Caden nods. “He’s a good man. One of the only good ones in this room, I’d say.”
I’m not sure what that means, if he’s aware he’s just admitted that everyone he knows in life is a bad person, or if it was more of an unconscious comment. I shake it off before it transpires into anything more profound. I don’t care about these people. They areallbad.
He fidgets in his seat for a second before straightening back up and walking towards someone approaching us. They stop a few feet away.
I’d have to be blind not to realise who it is.
His father doesn’t have the same lean frame as his son, he’s much burlier. But that dark, hard air that Caden carries around with him is the same. I sense it from over here. His dark eyes catch mine over Caden’s shoulder, and I quickly look away, a jolt of anxiety shooting through me. I give it a few seconds before daring another glance.
He’s talking with Caden, but beside him is a brunette woman who doesn’t look to be even my age.
I lean closer to Alfie. “Who’s the girl?” I ask, thinking this has to be Caden’s little sister or another cousin.
Alfie takes a quick look at who I’m referring to, then whispers, “Probably the flavour of the week.”
“Where’s Caden’s mother?”
Alfie takes his glass of orange juice and chugs the whole thing. “She died.”
“Oh,” I say, stunned. “When?”
“Years ago,” he says, and it’s clear he doesn’t want to elaborate.
I look back at the young girl, whose bright eyes are gleaming at Caden, a red-painted smile spread wide and eagerly at him as he says something. “She looks like a child.”
Fiz leans across to get in on the conversation. “Russell likes his pussy fresh. She won’t be older than twenty-five.”
“I think she’s twenty-three,” Alfie mutters noncommittally.
I look back at her and scoff. “She’s a paedophile’s dream in that case.”
A snort of laughter erupts, and I turn briefly to catch a glimpse of Fiz’s lips pulled back, cheeks pinched, and he’s holding the end of his nose. A futile attempt to suppress his laughter. I feel a flutter of pride for a moment, knowing I’d made him laugh at the expense of someone else for a change, rather than my own.
I turn back to the woman in time to see her reach out to Caden. It looks like she’s straightening his tie. I pull my lips in and clamp down, shoving away whatever alien jolt just attacked my chest and made my cheeks hot. I should have straightened his tie outside.
Caden turns around and crooks a finger at me, beckoning me over. Shit.
I push my chair back. Alfie gives my knee a quick pat. “You’ll be fine.”
I give him a brief smile and stand up on legs that feel like jelly, making my way over. I grip the lapel of Caden’s blazer so tightly I’m sure my knuckles are turning white.
As I get closer to them, I notice his dad’s got some similar features to Caden. The sharp jaw, straight nose, but the eyes are different. He doesn’t have the mossy green but a deep dark brown. A colour so opaque it twists my gut.
Evil, the darkness hisses aggressively.
Pfft, I don’t need a voice in my head to tell me that.
It’s written all over him. Stained like blood all over the surrounding air.
He looks young to have a twenty-five-year-old, and his older son, Max, was a couple years older than Caden, the same age as Lewis. Barely any wrinkles, only speckles of grey peppering his brown hair, which is still thick.
