Page 276 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

Jules looks away, instantly disconnecting.

‘Go the fuck away, you loser. I’m not talking to you anymore.’

Lachlan bites back a frustrated sigh. ‘Jules.’

The moonlight makes everything mercilessly clear. Snow crystals caught in the quilt. The damp ends of Jules’ hair. His hand trembling slightly where it rests on his knee. Lachlan wants to catch it and hold on.

He keeps his own hands still.

‘One day,’ he says quietly, hoping Jules catches the emphasis, ‘you’ll have choices. Real ones. You can go wherever you want. Be whoever you want. You’ll meet people. You’ll live your life.’

‘Stop talking to me.’

‘I’m not good for you.’

‘Great, thanks.’

‘There’s a whole world outside these walls and people who will—’

‘Like I’m ever gonna trust another human being again as long as I live.’

‘That—don’t say that. Of course you will.’

‘You betrayed me. You lied to me. You didn’t break my trust, you shot it to shit. You’re all I knew of love—’

‘You’ll love better people.’

‘—and not a single person on earth has hurt me like you have.’

‘Jules, please.’

‘If I ever needed confirmation that I’m not enough, this was it.’

‘You’re more than enough, you were everything.’

‘And you just wanted him anyway.’

‘Not like that.’

‘Do you think you’re making it better by telling me it was just sex?’

‘No.’

‘Then what the fuck are you doing?’

‘I don’t know.’

It’s the first entirely honest thing Lachlan has said since climbing onto the roof. Jules looks at him for a long moment, all that terrible Penhalyx composure beginning to thin around the edges.

‘How long?’

‘Don’t do this to yourself.’

‘How long was it going on, Lachlan? Were you building towards it ever since you met him? God, I bet you couldn’t wait to upgrade away from the shallow, spoiled—’

‘Don’t talk about yourself like that.’

‘—useless little brat you can barely stand to be around.’