Page 66 of Liar
“You never skip class, Ember. Not from your Boston school and not from Winthorpe since you’ve attended.”
I cross my legs at the ankles, keeping silent. I swear one of the shadows behind him moves. Closer inspection proves it must be the fire dancing over the bookshelf. I chastise myself for being a wimp.
“Do you care to tell me where you were?”
“With Aiko.”
“Mm.” Malcolm lifts his drink from his side table. The crystal tumbler shines between us. “You’re choosing to speak in half-truths, then.”
“I was with her, Malcolm, I promise.”
“I’ve noted as much, considering there aren’t many cherry red Volkswagon Beetles tearing out of my driveway while the moon is out. What else?”
“Okay. I’m—overwhelmed. I thought taking a day off from the pressure of Winthorpe would be good for me.”
Lame, but it’s all I’ve got.
Malcolm’s chest deflates. “That’s my fault. I’ve put too much on your shoulders, demanding you keep to your Societal duties and maintain an impeccable academic record. I’ve spoken to my … source.” Malcolm shifts forward, his incredibly blue eyes landing on mine. “We’ve agreed I’ve asked too much of you. I’ve grown desperate. So much time has passed since I—chose—to work for them, and nothing’s come of it.”
As he moves, the firelight caresses more of his features. His eyes are overly bright, spearing right into me, demanding I pay attention. But to what?
“I’ve been thinking about that.” My folded hands tighten their hold on each other. While the fire shines on Malcolm, the shadows close in on me. Warning skitters across my shoulders. “Is that why you brought me to Raven’s Bluff? To help you?”
“No.” Malcolm’s voice grows hoarse. “I swear to you, no. I brought you into my life to get to know you. I was devastated to learn I’d lost almost eighteen years with you.”
I shake my head. “That doesn’t make sense. You haven’t stuck around long enough to sit down for more than a few dinners with me. I’ve grown closer to Dash than I have with you. If you really wanted to know your daughter, you would’ve stayed, Malcolm.”
“You don’t—” He pauses. Scrubs a hand over his face. Sets his tumbler down. “No, you can’t understand. This is my fault.”
“You’ve been beating yourself up for decades. I’ve felt sorry for you for most of it, but not for this. I’ve needed someone, Malcolm. To belong. To be part of a family. To understand where I come from. I …” To my horror, tears threaten. “I feel like I’m swimming in dark waters, and I’ve lost where the shore is. I can’t swim home.”
“Sweetheart.” Malcolm lurches forward in his seat, but something stops him short of reaching for me. “I’m so sorry for the hurt I’ve caused you. For what I’ve involved you in. You don’t have to do this anymore.”
I whisper, “What?”
“I can’t keep living this double life. I need to regain control, and the only way I can do that is if I shed one of them.”
“Malcolm, what are you saying?”
Malcolm’s expression sags. “He’s removed all the best parts of me already. The last I have to cling to is you, and I’ll be damned if he gets it. This is what I’m trying to tell you, Ember. I’m offering Damion a trade. Me in place of you.”
“Nope.” I stand, and though I only reach his chin, I feel stronger on my feet. “I refuse to let you do this. We’re so close, Malcolm.” I suck in a breath, reaching for bravery. “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but—god, we’re both putting ourselves in ridiculous situations trying to protect each other. Tonight, I—”
A voice comes out of the shadows. “Yes, do tell us what you were up to tonight, Ember.”
The fire in my belly turns to ice.
I look at Malcolm in hopes that his reaction will tell me which Briar it is. His sallow expression confirms my greatest fear.
As soon as Damion melts out of the darkness, Malcolm spears forward.
The backs of my thighs hit my chair.
“He’s here for you,” Malcolm whispers harshly. “Go. Now.”
“What—? Malcolm—?”
Damion drags Malcolm back to his chair, pressing the back of his head into the hard leather and holds a knife to his throat.