Page 22 of A Sorrow of Truths
“Well, that, yes.”
“And you gave her a damn key-card to carry it on.”
“Yes.”
“Knowing what I would do when she arrived.”
He chuckles again and sits on a lounger, nodding. “Was she good? I expect she would be when tempting you. And then she tried killing herself at the cemetery she buried her husband in. I’m impressed. Almost concerned.”
The sound of Faith getting out makes me glare at her naked body, part ready to throw her over the damn ledge. “A few pointers from me and I thought she was ready to go,” she says.
I can see that in the way she’s moving now, remember it from the way Hannah swayed so confidently. It was better, frankly, more real than this show of sultry.
“So pretty, Gray. Did you hurt her? Poor, little, pretty thing. Such a mess in a world of bad men.” A laugh tumbles out of her mouth, her eyes looking me over. “I thought she’d be ready for anything you could throw at her, but Malachi disagreed. He said you’d eat her alive because you were in love. It’s all very dramatic. Did you eat her alive?”
She grabs a robe and sits on the lounger near him, taking his champagne from him. “And are you in love? It’s truth time out here in the real world. Only truths. Everyone’s got to have someone to be truthful with.”
I watch them lean back into each other, annoyance, rage, and some fucking melancholy I can’t tolerate baring down on me, and turn to leave before someone here dies from my still building rage. Blame? I grunt and carry on, chastising myself for all this, and then turn back for them, not finished in the slightest.
“What the fuck is wrong with both of you?” snaps out of me.
“Us?” he says, laughing again. My spine straightens, body winding tighter. “You’re the one that plays with minds, Gray. How many was it so we could make my home’s amusement happen successfully?” He stands and pushes Faith sideways, moving her out of my view and the threat of my hands. “You caused this. Not me. All of it, as you well know. Right from the start. Your plan, your pills, your fun.”
Truth or not, that fucking opinion is not welcome at this point in time. “You should have screened her before you came back, and the red pill?” My gaze moves to Faith again, damn sure she would have been the instigator of that fucking move.
Malachi’s in my face again before I even think about moving into her, his hand coming up to my chest as if he might just try pushing me away. I tense, ready for it and damn ready to get into any form of aggression he wants.
“You should never have left her with me if you weren’t prepared for the options that presented me with.” He rolls his neck, as if trying to avoid the tension my anger is creating. “Believe it or not, I only want what’s best for you. I’m helpful like that, but if this is about to turn-”
The shove I send him makes him reel backwards, knocking into Faith and making her stumble too. “Best for me? You don’t give a damn about me.”
Slowly, he regains balance and pauses his mouth, perhaps trying to contain the volatility that will surely come if he doesn’t. I move forward, provoking it, asking for it so I can get some of this hatred into something rather than hold it back.
“That’s twice. Watch your fucking step before I lose it.” He sighs, as I continue to glare at him, knowing I don’t give a damn about him losing it or not. “The fact is that without what I have done you’d still be brooding and wrestling with the position you’re in, rather than now thinking about getting on with what needs doing.”
“Your help isn’t-“
“What? Wanted? Needed?” He snorts and holds his hand out for Faith, who slinks up beside him and tilts her head at me. “Fine. Then you should go, Gray. Go, make her better if it’s not too late to salvage something in her head, and then dismiss her again. Ignore it all. Pretend it never happened.”
They walk passed me, Faith giggling as Malachi shields her and sends a last look my way. “Either way, don’t curse me for your problem. Perhaps think about embracing it. Maybe you’ll find a way out of the fuck up your life’s become. It’s called truth. Living life.”
Asshole.
My feet hurry, part of me not finished, and then they stop because of the words that actually cut through the tirade I’m in. Living life and too late.
Too late.
Chapter 10
Hannah
My eyes crack open slowly, blurred and weak. Blinking several times, I try to clear the fuzziness. It doesn’t help. And oh god, my head hurts. I try to move, try to lift my hand, but everything’s so feeble and unusable. Even my throat feels wretched and sore.
Another move to try getting me up, thighs and calves attempting movement, and a sickness sweeps over me forcing me back to the sheets. Waves of it ripple through my stomach, over my skin, until it’s in my mouth and there’s nothing I can do but retch and heave.
Nothing comes out, but the heaving continues, convulsing my stomach in cramps and pain. My legs curl up, attempting protection or avoidance, but it carries on and on without end. I’m shivering, trembling. So cold. Like ice and snow and wind. Bitter against me.
Malachi.