The second he opens his arms, I sprint into them. He squeezes me tight. “Heard about what happened to your dad,” he murmurs against the top of my head. “What happened to you? You just dropped off the map.”
Of course he would’ve looked for me, wondered. I thought I hadn’t had any true friends in my old world, but Paris isn’t anything like the people I knew at Silverwood Prep. For one, he’s never been connected to the town.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I confess, pulling away. “I need your help.”
Paris arches a pierced brow. The dual rings through it are in a different placement than I remember, but that’s not unusual for him. Some people hide from their demons unless they’re too drunk to forget that’s what they’re doing, and some people choose to throw piercing parties and let girls and guys do all manner of fucked-up shit to them in an effort to feel something. I’m the first and Paris is the second.
“Bea told me,” Paris says, hand still cupping my elbow as if he’s not sure if he should let go. “What’s going on?”
“Do you remember what I told you the last time we saw each other?” I ask.
Paris’ expression darkens and his eyes flash up to the door. “Is the fucker here?” he demands. He moves forward as if he has every intention of marching through to find Morpheus Calloway and kill him.
I push a hand against his wide chest. “No.” I shake my head. “No, he’s not here, but it’s… it’s complicated.” My hands start to tremble and I ball them into fists to stop the betraying sign of my own nervousness. I can feel the seconds of the clock ticking awayevery moment of my stolen freedom. “There’s so much I want to tell you, but I don’t have the time.”
Paris lowers his gaze to mine. Crystal blue eyes like the purest sapphire bore into me. “Juliet.” His hands cup my shoulders. “You saved my life the last time we met. Whatever you need, I’ll provide it. Just tell me.”
“I need a way to see some people,” I tell him. “I can’t communicate with people outside of my uncle’s sphere right now and I need help.”
His answer is immediate. “Easy. Done.” He looks back the way he came and it’s only then I notice Bea has returned with him and stands just inside of the mirror. Though neither of them says a word, she nods as if he’s given her an order and disappears back through the mirror.
When he turns back to me, his hands ease their grip and slide down my biceps. “What did you have in mind?” he asks. “A gathering of some sort?”
“Maybe?” My panicked brain is so full of relief just to see a familiar,safeface that I can’t think clearly. Time isn’t on my side, though. I glance towards the door. “But I can’t stay here for much longer to help you come up with an idea,” I tell him. “My guard already?—”
Paris dips his chin. “Don’t worry about that. Bea can distract him if needed. She’s not just a pretty face, you know.” His smirk is all rogue and charming bad boy. “She’s wickedly smart—probably smarter than me.”
He almost reminds me of… Nolan. I inhale sharply as a desperate pain stabs through me. “There’s something else.” Something I probably shouldn’t ask for, but I know I’m going to.
“I already told you I’d do whatever you ask, Jules.”
“This isn’t just a favor for me,” I warn him.
“Oh, did you make better friends?”
Pulling myself away from his hands, I smack his rock-hard chest. “Asshole.” The insult is light and far from mocking.
“The best one of all,” Paris says. His smile only widens and he spreads his arms wide, the fabric of his shirt tightening over his bulging biceps. Far too much like Nolan.
“Morpheus is threatening some friends of mine,” I tell him. “I… can’t leave until I know they’re okay and there are… other things. You know my dad was arrested for embezzlement, right?”
He nods and I contemplate how much I should reveal, but as the invisible and silent sound of the clock of freedom constantly echoes in the back of my head, I don’t have long to decide.
“There’s been someone looking into the case and they think that he’s being framed. All of the evidence is too clean. They say it’s like he wanted to be caught.”
“Odd, but not impossible,” Paris points out.
“You’re right,” I agree. “But my mom is missing now.”
“Missing?” Paris’ brow furrows. “Is she not still in Silverwood?”
“No, she left months ago. I’m supposed to graduate soon, so I moved to a public school. I got an apartment.”
“On your own?” Paris chuckles. “Damn, Jules. You’re hardcore. No money. No family, and still worked it out? You’re worth, like, ten heiresses.”
“I’m not an heiress anymore,” I remind him. “But that’s not why I mention it.” Taking a breath, I tell him the rest. Paris’ expression falls when I explain the attack and the apartment fire. The kidnapping. The guys. I tell him everything, leaving nothing out.
By the time I’m done, his jaw is flexing with a muscle pulsing in time with the beat of my own heart. “This has all happened in… what? Six months?” He scowls. “You definitelyhave someone after you. One or two of those events could’ve been coincidental, but all of it? No. Something’s not right.”
