Page 12

I haven’t seen Morgan in years, since the Lazeroffs moved to manage this town.

“I’m a specialist in the EOD unit that’s working on clearing your perimeter. How are you?” I ask, turning towards her, while leaning back in my chair to get some distance. She’s always invading my personal space.

“Feeling absolutely trapped.” She flips her hair and slides into the seat next to me. Smiling from ear to ear. “Blackmoor’s borders are tight. I miss Aurelia. I think I’ve convinced my father to let me move back; I’ve found the perfect apartment, too. Not too far off from your manor.” She rocks to the side, nudging me with her shoulder.

Why is she so playful?

I have no reason to believe she’s a bad person, but I could never handle much of her sunshine and rainbows. Between her pursed lips and sharp tone that sneaks through, it’s always come off as fake. Like she smiles to get what she wants, like she’s trying to get everyone wrapped around her finger.

“Is that permitted?” I throw back the last of my drink, the glass clinking when I drop it to the counter.

“With my father’s written permission… Which I have, so long as there are prospects for me there.” She brushes the backs of her fingertips along my bicep.

So that’s what this is…

I lean into my elbow, resting my chin on my thumb, my pointer finger running up along my cheek, and I meet her sparkling, hopeful eyes.

I brush her fingers off me and watch some of that hope die.

“I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for.” I flag the bartender for the check and catch Morgan’s lips purse from the corner of my eye.

“Are you with somebody?” The edge of her tone cuts through the haze of the alcohol.

“No.”

You might as well have been with Violet for years at this point.

“Well, hear me out.” Morgan touches my arm again, removing it with a sigh when I shoot her a glare.

“Go ahead,” I say as I drop cash on the counter. I lean back, place an herbal cigarette between my lips, and give her a nod. She smiles, straightens herself, and laces her fingers together, resting her fist in her lap.

“We hosted your father while he was passing through Blackmoor on his way to the new settlement. He mentioned the plans for you… We may have grown apart with my move, but this could be something really good. You’ve never been interested in politics, but that’s where I excel. You don’t like to entertain or connect with the community, but that’s what I live for.” Unable to contain her twiddling fingers any longer, she reaches forward and grabs my arm. “You can’t deny that on paper.” She points to herself, then to me, and back, “we are a good match.”

“What makes you think I want to be with a socialite politician? I’m an artist, a musician… I like singers.” The final word lingers, heavy on my tongue, as Violet’s siren song threads through my skull. She lives in me now, spotlit and untouchable, commanding a stage I never meant to give her.

She haunts me.

“I can sing,” she says, raising her eyebrow and looking me over, her head bobbing along.

The attitude.

“Yeah… I’ve heard you sing. Anyway, we sound like complete opposites,” I say as I brush her hands away once again.

“Complete complements… You don’t have to have feelings for me.” Morgan leans in, my eyes following her until they’re strained to the side. “Maybe try me out for a night and then decide.” She slides her hand up my thigh, and I snap.

“Stop touching me,” I growl. Grabbing Morgan by the wrist, I stand and drag her behind me straight out of the bar. The chilled air hits my skin, and I welcome a cold drag through my lungs.

“Cain! You’re hurting me!” She whines from behind me as I drag her around the corner and into an alley, then, pulling her arm around, I slam her against the cold brick wall. Placing one palm on the wall, I lean over her, caging her in. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a match, strike it against the brick, then light my cigarette.

“You don’t even fucking know me, Morgan.” I take a long, deep drag of my cigarette until the lavender burns my throat, then blow the smoke all over her face. She coughs, waving the smoke away.

“Why would you do that?” That edge slips through her smiling cracks.

I chuckle. When I do this to Violet, she closes her eyes and lets the aromatherapy wash over her, completely at peace.

“To make my point,” I say, then I take another drag. Morgan rolls her eyes.

“I know enough. I know that you can’t get your father off your back, and that I would do well as your High Lady. In fact, I might be the best for the job.” She crosses her arms over her chest, nodding her head to the side in a twitch of attitude.