He looks up from his phone, observing me. Analyzing me. I am bare before him, and yet, there’s also a level of normalcy, comfort, and familiarity. He saw me at my worst—literally, my absolute worst. Dirty lingerie, stringy hair, greasy face. I’d never felt the need to hide my true self from him, because he was the only person who’s seen me completely vulnerable.
“You changed your hair.” It’s a statement, and his eyes rove over my head. “I preferred the red.”
I grind my teeth. “I needed a change.”
He nods, standing slowly. He’s towering over me. I suck in a breath of air.
“I don’t want you attending another meeting.”
I stand also, glaring at him. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
He takes a step closer—and he’s close enough now that I can smell the damp wool on his coat, and the slightest hint of wood smoke.
“Stay away, Evelyn. I’m asking you nicely,” he adds, a hint of something more sinister in his voice.Why? Why doesn’t he want me there?
And then anger rips through me, similar to last night. White hot and potent. His father raped me.
Raped. Me.
Images of ball gags, blindfolds, black eyes and bloody, cracked lips flood through me. Pain searing through my elbow as I’m being shoved onto the concrete floor, sodomized and scared beyond belief. The man who did that had a son, and I invited him in—like I went right back to my old self. Like I settled for what I was used to all those years ago.
After all this time—after disappearing off the face of the earth—he does not get to tell me what to do, or vaguely threaten me.
That’s what I get for letting the lion into the lair.
I suppose the three years away changed him. He’s no longer the doting man, getting me breakfast and making sure I’m safe. The hint of remorse he once had, for me and for what his father put me through, is gone—replaced by a man I hardly recognize.
“Why did you leave?” I ask suddenly. I see him stiffen ever so slightly, his torso rising rapidly as if he’s breathing quickly. “Three years ago.”
“Did you want me to stay?” he asks, his voice different. Softer, somehow. I never realized how much his leaving had affected me until last night. Until he walked away from me a second time. One day he was there, and the next, he was gone. Ihatedhim back then—I hated seeing him. That part was true. But I’d gotten used to it. Iexpectedhim there. Ineededhim there. I just didn’t know it at the time. He sucks in a ragged breath. “It was easier to let you hate me and walk away.”
I swallow, clenching my fists. “You disappeared,” I say quietly.
This.This is what angered me last night.
I couldn’tbearthe thought of losing him again. The shock of that realization causes me to sway a bit.
“I met someone.”
His words nearly knock me off my feet.Of coursehe met someone. I replay those last days in London—he was constantly on his phone. And then one day, he was gone. I told myself I didn’t care, but I did. Not enough to seek him out, but I resented him for a long time. As I watch him now, as his eyes find mine, I realize Istillresent him. I resent hima lot.His phone chimes, and he pulls it out of his pocket, glancing at the screen.I bet it’s her.With a sinking realization, I move to the door, ignoring the way my throat clogs and my eyes sting.
I haven’t cried inyears, and yet the last two interactions with him have brought tears to my eyes. Why?
“You should go.” I open it, hoping he’ll take the hint.
“Yeah, I should.” He stalks past me, turning around as I’m about to slam the door shut. “Don’t come back, Evelyn. It’s not safe for you.” I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off. “I know I’m not the same man that rescued you, but I’m begging you to trust me.”
“Why should I?” The angry words surprise me. Idotrust him—nearly as much as Lily and Salem. But I can’t admit it to myself, because it would mean admitting that I trust Auguste’sson. Somehow, over the last few years, I’d convinced myself that monsters breed monsters. I should’ve known that wasn’t true. After all, my parents were horrible people. So, what did that make me? I might be a monster, but it was through my own volition, not theirs.
Even now, evenlast night, I trusted him. Despite the time apart, despite how much he’d changed. Sure, people changed, but something inside of him called to something inside of me—a peace offering of some sort. Like there’d be a silent agreement between our souls.
Benedict sighs. “Stay away from us.”
Us.
A sudden, fiery burst of emotion crawls through me. “Can’t be worse than your father’s people.”
I expect him to retaliate, but instead he pins me with a deathly stare—his eyes boring into mine. “There are always worse people out there, Evelyn. I have done some terrible things—some of them out of love. Others… out of anger. When one kingdom falls, another has to swoop in to take its place.”
