Page 72 of Lessons In Grey
He hesitated, causing my right hand to clench at my side. Fuck, I couldn’t even blame him. I fucked up. I should have called him, but I was so scared. So petrified of people dying.
“No, and I’ll tell you why,” he went on as I released a breath, my lips parting in shock. “You asked me at the beginning of the month about psychological warfare. He played the game well, convinced you that you might be safe, that you were out of the fire, and then he waited until he took a big breath of air, and he poured fuel on the embers in the worst possible way.
“You have such a big and kind heart, Emily. You are a natural at caring for people. You spent years suffering in silence to protect your friends and family from having to deal with the pain you were born with. I can’t blame you for doing everything in your power to protect the people around you, to protect those memories. You’ve known those people your entire life, you’ve known me two months. It’s different.”
He was way too understanding. Had the roles been switched, I never would have forgiven him. “It feels like longer,” I finally said as we left the campus, stepping out into the chilling air.
He moved closer now that we were out from under the watchful eyes of the school. “A lifetime.” His hand brushed bymine, sending warmth sliding up my skin. “You were wrong about Remi. Soon, Snowflake, I’m going to show you exactly what you do to me, but for now, I’ll leave it at this.”
I glanced over as he led me to his car.
“You are the most breathtakingly beautiful woman I have ever met in my entire life. You can find that hard to believe all you want, but I will prove it. I will. Just not at this very moment.”
My face burned bright red. Fuck. A deep part of me, the one I released only in the depths of the night when I was alone with my thoughts, wanted to beg him to kiss me, fuck me, make me scream, but we were on a mission of sorts I guess, and I was injured. He was right, it wasn’t the right time.
But fuck if I hadn’t thought about it on more than one occasion over the last two months.
When I told him that my car was in the other direction, he told me that we’d be riding together. When we finally got to the teacher parking lot, I searched for that old beater and found nothing, only for him to lead me up to this sleek, black, low to the ground, in desperate need of a racetrack kind of car. The same one that had sat outside the gas station a lifetime ago.
We drove through the city, surrounded by the scent of his cologne. Fuck, I had missed him. All I had thought about this weekend was seeing him again. I read his messages over and over again, grateful that he hadn’t stopped sending them to me, despite me ignoring him. They had helped me keep myself from doing something stupid.
But Jesus, every time he shifted the car, revving it up, it had to be the hottest thing I had ever seen. Those hands, that shifter, this car? I don’t know why, but it did something inside of me that just didn’t make sense.
I couldn’t relax in the best and most frustrating kind of way.
After driving in silence for some time, I finally spoke up, nervous, slightly scared about what would happen once we got there. “Are you really going to kill him?”
“I should,” he answered evenly, “I want to.”
My stomach tightened.
“But there are cameras everywhere around that neighborhood, and there might be a lot of people home right now. Too many potential witnesses. I don’t do things in the daylight unless it’s necessary. It’d be better if I waited until nightfall. Waited until he’s in the bathroom, the den, any of the bedrooms.”
I looked over, mulling over the words. “I thought you were only in my house once.”
“I’ve studied the blueprints of every house on that street. I’ve gotten the information of everyone there, how long they’ve lived in those houses, who they are to your father. I know where the cameras are in every house around yours, and I know where everyone sleeps, just in case.”
I released a breath. “You’re insane.”
He thought about it a moment. “We wouldn’t be our father’s sons without a little bit of crazy. Azrael? He was overdosed with that gene upon birth, but the rest of us have varying levels. They say I’m the least psychotic of the four.” He eyed me, a small smile touching his lips before he turned back to the road.
I had no idea what that smile meant, but it unnerved me as I turned back to the road, watching the buildings go by. I chewed on my lip. We hadn’t really talked much about his family. Not really. “Are any of you blood?” I finally asked, picking at a thread on my leggings.
“There is a rumor that one of us is, we just don’t know which one. I mean, obviously Malachi, Beckett, and the brother and/or sister knows the truth, but the secret has been kept all our lives.”
I looked over. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Blood doesn’t make family. He treats us all the same, his sons and daughters. There’s no point in trying to decipher who is his blood because it wouldn’t change anything.”
I thought about it. “Are you the only people who work for him?The Family.”
He shook his head. “No, and this will sound horrible, but I promise it’s not what it seems. We’re his ‘prized possessions’. Jack, Azrael, Everett, and me. He has our sisters looking out for them, not me, because as I said, I’m the least psychotic.”
I frowned. He said that as if it were some kind of trophy.Don’t worry, Snowflake, I’m certifiably insane, but less so than my brethren.
“But he has them looking after the others. Poppy has the worst of it, although she doesn’t mind. She looks after Azrael, but he slips out of her grasp often, which isn’t her fault, he’s a lot to deal with. Everett has Evelyn, Eve or Evie, and Jack has Zo.”
My frown softened, the fear and nerves easing as I focused solely on him. “Do you not have anyone?”