“Because you’re everything, Cambria, don’t you get that?” Lucien murmurs. “They’ve been stealing your strength for your entire life, become addicted to it. But I stand by my statement; they’re afraid of you. They’re just trying to get you back under control before you realize that they have a reason to be.”
I lie on the bed beside Dorian, resting my swimming head on his chest and curling into his side because I’m not ready to touch on that line of thought right now. “When you buy us a new house, we need to get a bed big enough for all of us,” I mumble, half asleep already.
Dorian chuckles, stroking a hand over my head. “Looks like Atlas beat you to the couch, Luce.”
He grumbles, the door shutting with a soft click behind him as I finally pass out, praying I wake up and all of this will have just been a bad dream.
***
It was, in fact, nota dream. I really did make that much of a jackass out of myself and I chalk Jeremy’s name up to the top spot on my shitlist. After drinking so much water that my stomach might legitimately explode, downing several pain killers to combat my splitting headache, and fumbling my way through a long shower, I’m starting to feel more like myself again.
A hot mess, but one with control of her own faculties at least. My terrible decisions should be my own, thank you very much.
I land a solid hit on Jeremy’s shoulder as I pass him on my way to the couch, stretching out across Atlas and Dorian. I rest my face on my arm on top of Atlas’ thigh, the room still spinning far too much for my liking.
“How’re you feeling?” Atlas asks, smoothing a hand up and down my spine.
“Pissed off and too nauseous to do anything about it. Abridged version please. We still like him, or no?”
Dorian starts massaging my calf. “Everybody kissed and made up while we were sleeping.”
“And as an apology, I called in a couple of favors to speed things along. One of Victor’s employees has been picked up several times on arson charges, but they never found enough to make any of them stick. I’d put my money on him.” Jeremy’s voice is overly animated, trying to make up for something that I logically know wasn’t his fault, but feeling like death tempers my sympathy.
“We already assumed as much though. But there’s a huge difference between just hating someone and actually going so far as to kill people.”
Jeremy does a few more taps on his keyboard when Lucien finally shows his face. He locks the door behind him, a few bags clutched in his hand. I have to do a double take, stunned to see him in sweatpants and a tight fitted, cheap t-shirt. He slips his sunglasses off as he sets breakfast on the coffee table in front of me, crouching and tilting my head to get a good look at my eyes.
“You look better,” he praises, despite the fact I feel like something the cat hacked up on a motel room floor.
“How is it that this is hotter than suits? Seriously, it’s not fair. You’re like a walking wet dream,” I complain, groaning as I sit up.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Are you just always turned on? I’m going to start thinking you’re only with us for the sex,” he teases and by the way the others’ hands still, they’re as surprised as I am that he’s being this open and lax in front of a relative stranger.
“Kind of, yeah,” I half shrug. “Life’s too short not to enjoy the ride when and where you can.” Reaching past him, I snag a breakfast sandwich. “I should have anticipated you wouldn’t trust any more food in this place.”
I give him a genuine smile that I hope conveys how much I honestly appreciate the lengths he goes to in a bid to take care of us. I wish that he’d stop thinking that he has to take the brunt of the burden and let us help more, but everyone has their quirks. Just because it isn’t even, doesn’t mean it’s necessarily unfair. He loves this by the satisfied look on his face and relaxed set of his shoulders. So I’ll just have to find other ways to pull my own weight so it doesn’t become too one sided of a relationship over time.
As soon as I get something in my stomach, I start feeling better quickly. By the time Jeremy is bragging about how amazing he is, I’m nearly my normal, delightful self again.
“So, it looks like he found out about the birth certificate being forged and made a copy. He’s hired at least a dozen people to dig into it and see what you’re hiding,” Jeremy announces to the room, grinning with self-satisfaction.
“She brought up a good point last night, though,” Dorian selectively states to the others. “Revealing her origins isn’t as big of a deal as it used to be beyond bringing unwanted attention to where she is.”
Jer frowns. “I meant Lucien. Just how much shit are you tied up in, Atty?”
Everyone wears matching masks of confusion as Atlas asks him to repeat himself, crossing the room to stare over his shoulder at the computer and reading everything with his own eyes. By the time he tears himself away, eyeing Luce with suspicion, everyone’s on edge.
“There something we should know, Luce?” Dorian asks, sounding hurt, but trying to conceal it.
Lucien looks honestly as baffled as the rest of us though. “I don’t understand.” He gets to his feet to hover behind Jeremy’s other shoulder as well, looking over everything with a critical eye. As he reads on, he slowly starts to deflate. Lucien’s always been detached, but he’s never looked so...lost.
“Did they ever figure out how your dad died?” I cautiously ask, waiting to see if he’s going to shut down the conversation because Jeremy’s still in the room.
He shakes his head. “We just knew he was missing and killed. By the time they found his body, so much time had passed it was nearly impossible to do anything more than guess. They listed it as a mugging gone wrong.”
I bite my lip before blurting out, “So he refused to talk about your mother, then your brother was just dumped with you in the middle of the night, and you never saw Maddox’s mom again either? It sort of sounds like he was hiding you guys.”
The time waiting for him to speak is agonizing, but when he does, he sounds more closed off than ever. “I’m going to take a shower, then we can pick up a few supplies on our way out of town if no one objects. I’m about at my limit of things happening on this side lately.” He stalks out of the room and I waver, wanting to follow after him, but knowing logically that he needs some space to process the revelation and its implications.
