I halt immediately and turn to stare up at a sixteen-year-old Kane, two years older than me—same age as Charlie. I laugh, and his smile drops. “I’m too young to think about having children. And I can’t marry you.I’mgoing to live in the States and be a world-renowned surgeon. Charlie’sto be a lawyer at Daddy’s firm in New York City. I won't have time for a husband until I'm… thirty, atleast.”
He shakes his head, a brown curl falling forward. He’s very handsome, but… well, he doesn’t really call to me. He can be a bit of a badger. “You’re wrong. You’ll be my wife. I’ll work for my grandfather—”
“Sabrina!” Kane’s interrupted by Charlie calling my name, catching up to us on our walk home from secondary school. It’s my first year, but it’s Charlie and Kane’s second. My brother grabs me by the elbow and yanks me away from Kane, practically dragging me along the pavement. He finally stops when we’re more than a few meters away and drops my arm. He’s panting, cheeks pink and slate-blue eyes full of fury. “What have I told you about not being around Kane alone?”
I search his eyes, rubbing where his grip was harsh, annoyed. “I’m not a child anymore, Charlie. I can make my own friends.”
Charlie scoffs. “You think because you snogged Mason at the funfair you’re all grown up now?”
My jaw drops in horror.
“Oh yeah, I know all about that. Bragged about it in the boys’ changing room after swim. Which is why I’m telling you to stay the fuck away from Kane. Your taste in boys is shite, and Kane is no better than Mason. The fact of the matter is, he'sworse.”
“Charlie—”
“Just stay away from him, Bri. Trust me.”
I want to argue. I want to tell him he can’t and won’t be around me at all times, and so what if Mason bragged about kissing me? Mason kisses like I imagine a dog would—all tongue, no lips—and I absolutely won’t be doing it again. But the look on Charlie’s face is menacing. The seriousness makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, so I nod instead and smile up at my most favorite person in the entire world. “Alright, Charlie-Barley. I trust you. I won’t hang around Kane alone. You have my word.”
Charlie died not eight months later.
And I kept my word… until That Night.
I settle my hand over my stomach and swallow a gasp, not allowing the tear that has formed to drop.
Don’t break.
The ancient oak grandfather clock strikes eleven, and when I'm at the landing portion of the back stairway to go up, I findhimin the boisterous crowd. All of them too drunk, too happy, too loud. He’s the only one who isn’t as he stares back at me with interest. I raise my chin, lift a brow, smirk, and continue my ascension, knowing on the other side of the wall is none other than my perfect bodyguard, mirroring each of my steps via the old servants’ corridors. I grasp the skirt of my dress and keep going.
“Brina?” I hear him call out to me.
Don’t break.
I look over my shoulder and lift it with a little giggle, “Hello Kane…” but I don't stop, continuing my pace into the library where only hours ago Savage was inside of me, pumping roughly, making me ache. Making me come.Don’t break.I pause in the middle of the room, waiting for Kane to find me, listening to the crackle and pop of the firewood lit in the fireplace. The exasperation in me rises. Both fear and hopelessness want to drive me away, to hide, to cower, to cry.
But I don’t have time for that.
This is for my husband. I can do this. Every moment has led to this, and I will find my love. I can do this. I am pink. I am glittery. I am the best actress in the world. This is for my husband. I can do this.
The heavy oak door behind me creaks open and softly shuts. I take a few steps toward the large, arched windows, the pale full moon illuminating the grounds of the estate. The maze in the center of the sprawling gardens looks eerie and desolate—a ruin surrounded by pretty hybrid flowers manufactured to withstand the brutal winter.
I would have gone there instead, but it’s cold out, and it would have been harder for Parker to track me, and I don’t know every proper turn to get out safely if I need to. Plus, I have no idea the type of mindset Kane is in at the moment.
I hear the soft thuds of his expensive Italian shoes on the old carpet until he’s standing right beside me, hands in his pockets. Everything about him is wrong. He’s very… average. Not that average is bad. I mean, he’s not extremely handsome, but he’s not ugly either. There’s simply no edge to him, nothing that would make him stand out in a crowd to me. I’ve always thought that. While he was nice to chat with, his personality was very… droll. Which is why I was so surprised to see he was the only one there at the concert the night he raped me. Our versions offunwere always very different. Kane preferred the opera, and I… did not. He and I would have never worked.
“It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” he asks, his cadence soft, wondrous as he stares out at the grounds below us. “I’m sure it’ll be snowing soon.”
I twist to look at him, taking in his features, at how much he’s changed sinceThat Horrid Nightthree years ago. When I was at his mercy, and he gave none. That night he took what didn't belong to him. The night he broke me, and I was left to fix the scattered pieces of me with nothing but kid’s glue and wonky tape. “Preparing for a proper winter wonderland,” I reply, matching his pitch.
“You used to swear you could smell the snow, and sure enough, hours later, the first snowflakes would drop.” He stays quiet, eyes still surveying the darkness of the maze barely lit by little solar torches alongthe ground. “I’ve always thought you were quite amazing, Sabrina. Daring. Observant. My match. Granted, you would have needed a bit of taming. You were quite the rebellious little thing.” He finishes with a light chortle.
Ugh, gag me.
“And now?” I ask, readying myself for him to face me. To look into those hazel eyes—that do absolutely nothing for me—and do or say anything to get my husband back.
He turns to look at me, eyes roaming over my face, to the small beauty mark above my lips, then sweeping over my lips, and finally up to my eyes. His hands slip out of his pockets and dare to reach out to me, planting them firmly on my hips, taking a step closer to eliminate the distance between us.
I can do this.
