Page 7 of Crush
Not a single part of me believed meeting Aurora after sunset would lead to anything good.
I wasn’t about to let it stop me, though. Thorne’s betrayal has opened up a chamber of bravery in my heart, and I’ll meet what these Virtues have planned with full force.
Sneaking out of Weatherby Manor, however, is another matter.
Malcolm is extra watchful this evening, his eyes following each forkful of lasagna into my mouth as we sit uncomfortably through dinner. His own is crimped into a slanted line. So far, no food has been allowed to pass through those rigid, pissed-off lips.
“Did anyone bother you today?” he asks at last, spinning his crystal tumbler of whiskey on the thick oak table. His pinky ring catches the light—that damned raven insignia shining in pure white gold.
I swallow my food. “No.”
“Good. I plan to have a talk with Damion this weekend, ensuring Thorne stays far away from you for the rest of the semester.”
I’m not sure how that conversation will go. Clearly, I’m transmitting my thoughts because Malcolm frowns, following up with, “You may be beholden to the Virtues, but that does not include Thorne and the Nobles. Even though he’s taken a special interest in you, you have no duty to obey him.”
That Malcolm chooses to have me follow Aurora rather than Thorne doesn’t make me any happier. Or calmer.
“I’m still waiting on early decisions from colleges. And finals are coming up. I don’t plan to be distracted by either of them,” I say.
Malcolm chuckles low in his throat. I look up at him sharply.
“Ember, you’ve made your choice.” He slowly allows his eyes to drift back to mine. “Tell me, have they contacted you with further instructions?”
“Aurora’s decreed I meet her at the school’s rec center tonight,” I say wryly.
“Then I suppose you’ll be going.” Malcolm leans back in his seat, his untouched meal cold and congealed on the place settings in front of him.
I lower my fork onto my mostly cleared plate, cautious of any sudden moves. It isn’t like Malcolm to agree to after-hours activities. I feel like if I make any wrong twitch, he’ll snap. “Last time I went out, and it had to do with them, you threatened to lock me in my room forever.”
“I can’t stop you, Ember. Not when you’re so far in. I’ll protect you in any way I can, but… it’s better for you to go and do as they say. The more you comply, the less reason they have to pay special attention to you.” Malcolm flicks his stare back up to mine. “Believe me, you don’t want to be singled out.”
I’m forced to agree. Losing the fellowship was awful enough. “Then can I go get ready?”
“I recall you rather forcefully explaining to me the other day that you’re an adult. You don’t need my permission.”
I squint at him, my palms digging into the edges of the table as I rise. “You’ve also made it clear I’m to follow certain rules in this house.”
“I know what I said.” Malcolm tosses his napkin onto his plate. “That was before you became a member. Do notify me when you come home, so I know you’re safe.”
With that, Malcolm departs before I do, his strides smooth and long.
I gawk at his back, my brain having trouble coping with this new, icier version of Malcolm.
He can’t be so numb. A part of him has to care.
I’m still confined to his manor. Malcolm isn’t saying I can go home to my parents. So, he still wants to get to know his daughter. He must. Or was it all a ruse? Does he need something from me? Am I, like Thorne said, a prize or a trophy to be bartered for and then won?
No. I shake myself out of it. I can’t let Thorne intrude on my thoughts and make me second-guess Malcolm’s motives. I’m related to Malcolm by blood, and with that comes a natural curiosity to understand my heritage, whether the man behind it is a brute, a devious plotter, or a hidden savior.
When it comes to Thorne, all I have in common with him is hate.
* * *
Aurora stands in the middle of a small group of about four students holding flashlights, the small beams bouncing across the canopy of trees. I hedge around the side of the rec center and head toward them, the grass damp with twilight dew and tickling my ankles.
“There she is…” someone whispers. Aurora’s head jerks in my direction.
“Didn’t think you’d show,” she says as I approach.