“You threatened my friends,” I say. If he expects me to sit here silently and be the perfect little puppet for him to play with then he’s in for a rude awakening. Maybe the old Juliet would have shrunk away and done what she was told, but this new Juliet is too angry; she’s too fed up with the unfairness of the world.
“I merely pointed out that there were many difficult circumstances that could befall them,” Morpheus states. “You could have stayed. You didn’t. You made the right choice.”
“You—”
“I believe dinner is over.” Morpheus cuts me off and reaches to the side, picking up a small bell on the side of the table farthest from me. I hadn’t noticed its presence before but as he rings it and staff appear once again in the doorway to the diningroom, rushing over to begin cleaning things up, I realize that we were never truly alone.
Do they know what he’s doing? Do they care?
Guilt bites into my chest as my plate is whisked away from me as is the rest of the food. So much left untouched and yet, I can’t find it in myself to hate to see it go. My nausea never waned.
Morpheus’ chair scrapes the floor, jolting me back to reality and out of my own thoughts as he stands. When I go to stand as well, he settles a hand on my shoulder, keeping me in place. The feeling of his palm on my skin makes me clammy. I freeze.
The hand doesn’t leave me, though. Instead, it trails up to my throat and my tension rackets up higher and higher, concerned he’ll notice the marks Lex left behind. The staff quickly disappears into the kitchens through the side door as Morpheus shifts his fingers to the single chain that dangles from the back of the diamond choker.
A light tug has my head tilting back. He stops behind my chair, looking down at me as if he wants to do so much more.I will not break,I tell myself.I will not show my fear.
“I’ll contact your friend,” he murmurs, bending closer. Just before his lips make contact with mine, I turn my head, and he grazes my cheek instead.
He stills and for a moment, neither of us moves. His mouth on my skin doesn’t pull away and sickness churns in my gut. Then, I feel him smile against me.
“Once wasn’t enough, darling.” His voice drops lower, until it’s barely more than a whisper. “Not hardly enough.”
The chain of the necklace is released and I sit up straight, my fingers curling into fists. My nails stab into the flesh of my palm as I listen to the sound of his dress shoes clipping lightly over the hardwood floors as he leaves the room. Even long afterhe’s gone, I still feel choked for breath and desperate for air that doesn’t smell like him.
43
JULIET
The world runs on lies. Mommy and Daddy love you. They’ll never let anything bad happen to you. Justice is always served. Bad people get what they deserve.
All lies.
Sometimes, the bad people get away and sometimes, mommies and daddies are just human. They make mistakes. They abandon their kids when shit gets hard. The universe doesn’t care about any of it. It’s indifferent. The Earth keeps on turning. Life keeps on living.
The disconnect between what should be and what is fills my mind as Morpheus makes good on his promise—threat?—and Roquel shows up to his house a few days after our dinner.
Eyes wide, dressed in a relatively more conservative outfit than I’ve ever seen her wear before, she nods to Stuart who leads her to the bedroom I haven’t left but a few times since I moved in. Morpheus’ assistant is particularly kind to her, smiling brightly and asking if she requires anything to drink or eat while we chat.
“Oh, no thank you,” Roquel says, offering him a shy smile. Curled up on the settee by the window, I barely glance in Stuart’s direction as he panders to her.
“Well, if you need anything, Miss Lee,” he insists. “Please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Just before he shuts the door, he glances in my direction and scowls. With a roll of my eyes, I flip him my happy middle finger and enjoy the flush of anger in his face right before the door latches. The second he’s out of sight, Roquel lets out a long breath.
“Holy. Shit.” Tugging at the long-sleeved blouse that would look more appropriate on a matronly aunt than a teenage girl, Roquel hurries across the room to practically dive onto the settee next to me. “This place ishuge.”
“A huge prison is still a prison,” I say.
My bedroom is situated on a corner. One of the windows faces the side with a partial view of the paved driveway and the other faces the back garden. Right now, I’m staring at the rows and rows of well-manicured bushes and trees that line the back of the Calloway property.
“A prison?” Roquel snorts and leans closer to the window, peeking out of the sheer curtains. “This place is a palace,” she insists. “Do you have any idea what I’d do to live in a mansion like this?” She laughs awkwardly and sits back as she cuts a hand through the air. “Servants and shopping sprees? Sign me up.”
Irritation flits through me, but I shove that shit down. It’s been days since I saw anyone but the staff, Morpheus, and Stuart. I should be happy that she came at all rather than be annoyed by her obliviousness to my situation. Turning and letting my legs drop to the floor, I shift towards her.
“Have you seen the guys?” I ask.
Blinking, Roquel frowns. “The Scorpion Kings?” she clarifies as if I could mean anyone else.
