38. Chapter Thirty Seven

Chapter Thirty Seven

Skyla

A fter the shower, Vincent and I went back to bed for a few more hours. My eyes open as sunlight streams in through my balcony door, Vincent fast asleep beside me for once. I smile down at him as I slide out of bed, wincing as I do. My thighs are sore...like a lot. Vincent tended to my cuts so sweetly and patiently but still, the dull, sharp pain is there, and it is persistent. Worth it.

Carefully, I slip on a baggy pair of sweatpants and a tank top as I slip out of the bedroom. My feet carry me towards the stairs for half a second before I look down the hallway, Liam’s door practically calling to me. I turn and head towards it, hoping he’s ready for some company.

It’s true that I slept alone last night because Liam was upset. I also slept alone because I stayed up until two in the morning reading Thomas Putnam’s journal. I haven’t been able to finish, obviously, but I’m currently reading entries during the witch trials. I made it up to the point his daughter, Ann, was having unexplained fits and cried ‘witch.’ Just from the history books, I know things are about to get bad fast.

I hid the journal underneath a loose floorboard beneath my bed. If I’m honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if Vincent finds it. It seems like something he’d be especially good at. I’m just hoping he won’t even bother, that he wouldn’t have picked up on anything off this morning.

Who am I kidding? This is Vincent we’re talking about.

My feet pause outside Liam’s door, and for some reason, a wave of nervousness rolls through me. Maybe I’m just worried that he won’t want to see me, that he’ll kick me out. Maybe I’m not his favorite person anymore; maybe I’m not what he needs.

Still, I have to try. My hand rests on the doorknob, and when I turn it, I’m surprised to find it unlocked. Slowly, I push inside the dark room. The curtains are drawn, all lights off as Liam’s still figure lays in bed. His usually soft snoring can’t be heard, and it has me furrowing my brows when he speaks.

“What do you want, Sky?”

His voice is so hollow, so…bare. It’s devoid of any of the emotion and playful tone it usually carries. Hesitantly, I cross the room, coming to his side as I speak.

“I just wanted to check on you. How are you feeling?”

“Like death,” he mutters against his pillow, not looking up at me or even moving as he speaks.

Worried, I reach for him before I think better of it. Instead, opting to stand there awkwardly because what do I do…how do I help?

“Should I leave you alone?” I ask.

He’s quiet for several seconds before he lets out a heavy sigh and lifts the blankets in invitation. I take the gesture happily, sliding into bed beside him as I lay on my side to face him. We stare at each other for several minutes, just watching one another. If we have to do this all day, then it’s what we’ll do.

I watch as a single tear escapes his eye, slipping down his face, over his nose, and to the other cheek before hitting his pillow. My heart aches as I lift my hand, brushing the tear away.

“Baby,” I whisper hoarsely. “What did they do to you?”

He doesn’t speak, instead, he just swallows. We stay like that for another minute or so before his voice comes through, the softest whisper I’ve ever heard.

“I killed someone.”

Oh, my poor sweet boy. Closing the distance between us, I wrap my arms around him, burying him into my chest as I shush him softly, running my fingers through his hair as he continues.

“A woman…I…I killed her. Brutally,” he says as his body shakes.

I hold him tighter as his arms wrap around me and he falls apart. His body shakes as sobs rip through him, the sound of his cries literally breaking my heart to pieces.

“It’s not your fault, Liam. You were doing what you could to survive,” I whisper against him. “You are so kind, so loving. That wasn’t you. It was who you needed to be, right?”

He cries for a few more seconds before he shakes his head.

“I tried to refuse. I couldn’t…not after all she’d been through. Then…”

He pauses, like he knows he shouldn’t say this next part.

“Christopher pulled a gun on me, said it was me or her, and like a fucking coward, I deemed my life more valuable than hers.”

“No,” I say.

“Yes,” he snaps. “That’s exactly what I did, because in that moment, all I could think about was you. I thought about how much pain you’d be in if I was dead, how much Ash would be. I was given a choice to do the right thing, and I didn’t take it because of you two.”

Guilt gnaws at me as he continues.

“And I fucking hate myself because, given the chance, I’d make the same choice again.”

My heart aches and soars simultaneously. I press a kiss to his forehead as I rest my head against his.

“It’s not like he would have let her live regardless.” I try to reason.

He shakes his head. “That’s not the point. If he had, it wouldn’t have mattered.”

I stay quiet for a moment as I nod.

“Does it make me a terrible person if I say thank you?”

He scoffs but doesn’t say anything as I continue.

“Thank you for not putting me through the hell of losing you. Thank you for not putting Asher through the same. Thank you for not surrendering one of the loves of my life. Thank you for being selfish, for me.”

His breaths are deep but more measured this time as he speaks.

“I don’t know how to live with this…this guilt. This pain. I…I see her eyes, her face. Even when I blink, she’s there.”

I nod my understanding, though I truly can’t understand until I’ve lived through what he has.

“You’ll learn how to, and we will be here by your side to help you through it. All of us.”

He nods as he holds me closer, burrowing his head into me before falling into a heavy sleep. I lay there for several hours, running my fingers through his hair, whispering reassurances, telling him how much I love him, and he sleeps, deeply.

I glance at the clock on the wall and decide I have to get up now if I’m going to make it to brunch with Liam’s mom on time. I don’t know how I got roped into that, but here I am.

Carefully, I slide out of bed, thankful Liam doesn’t even stir as I slip out of the room, closing the door with a soft snick. Tiptoeing my way to my bedroom, I find it empty. Vincent must already be up somewhere.

Moving to my closet, I select a turtleneck sweater dress and a pair of tights with over the knee boots. Liam’s mother is definitely a judgmental one, so looking my best has to be a priority. Though, does it really matter if she likes me or not? She’s literally trying to marry off my boyfriend to my best friend’s girlfriend.

Still, I want to make a good impression because maybe, one day, things can be in the open, and if that day comes, I don’t want my boyfriend’s mother to hate me.

I flat iron my hair, do a respectable amount of makeup while keeping it neutral before grabbing my designer sunglasses and stepping out the bedroom door, running straight into Vincent.

“Oh, there you are.”

“Where are you off to looking like that?” Vincent asks, his eyes running up and down my body.

“I think what you meant to say is, ‘Wow, Skyla. You look beautiful this morning.’”

He lifts an unimpressed brow.

“Wow, Skyla. You look beautiful every morning. Now, where do you think you’re going?”

“The country club. Liam’s mom invited me to brunch, well, told me to go to brunch with her.”

Vincent frowns. “I’m coming.”

I laugh at that before I see that he’s being serious.

“You can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

“No, you cannot invite yourself to have brunch with us, Vincent.”

He rolls his eyes like I’m being unreasonable.

“I’ll sit a few tables away, don’t worry. You can still try to schmooze the wicked bitch of the northeast.”

I frown at that. “Is she really that bad?”

He laughs, actually laughs. Vincent never laughs. Suddenly, all of my nerves are on edge as he nods.

“She’s essentially the only matriarch left in the Elders…apart from you. Does that answer your question?”

Unfortunately, yes.

Lovely.

Liam always talks so highly of her. Well, now that I think about it, highly isn’t exactly the word I’d use. More like he doesn’t hate her like he does his dad, so I guess I just assumed she was a good person. My mistake, I suppose.

“Fine. But we’re leaving now, and you’re driving,” I say as I brush past him.

“Anything for you, siren.”

I tried to say goodbye to the guys, but none of them were downstairs. I don’t know if they already left to start their day or slept in. I’ll call them later. For now, I’m walking up to Salem’s Country Club, feeling insecure as ever. I shouldn’t though, posh superiority is what I specialize in. A London boarding school education really teaches you a thing or two. That, and having Henry Parris as your father.

The hostess smiles at me, guiding me through the restaurant before I can even give her my name or Liam’s mother’s. Which, I guess I should start calling her—

“Alison,” I greet with a polite smile.

“Ah, Skyla.” She smiles as she stands from her chair, giving me air kisses before taking her seat once more.

“Thank you for joining me,” she says as she takes a sip of her coffee.

“Thank you for the invitation.” I smile as the waiter steps in.

“Hello ladies, my name is Cara, I’ll be your server. Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, mimosa?” she asks me.

“I’d love a coffee, black. Thank you.” I smile and nod.

She steps away with a nod and heads back to the kitchen as Alison makes a sound.

“I’d have thought you’d choose tea, given your upbringing.”

I smile through the stereotype. Though yes, many people that reside in London drink tea, it’s not a requirement. Steph and I always preferred coffee anyways.

“I’ve always preferred coffee,” I say, and she hmphs but doesn’t say anything.

Slowly, my smile falls as the server comes back with my coffee and takes our orders. I decide on half a sandwich and a bowl of soup while she tuts and gets a Caesar salad, no dressing, no croutons and no cheese….so, romaine lettuce.

“Always have to look good for our husbands, do we not?” she asks with a raised brow, the barb very clear.

I smile and nod. “Asher certainly has no complaints, thankfully.” I throw back.

Her eyes rake over me, that plastic smile intact as she nods.

“I’m sure not.”

An awkward silence descends over us before I try to break it.

“So, what do you do for work?”

She releases a condescending laugh like I’m hilarious.

“Sweet girl, I don’t work. No wife of the Brethren, let alone an Elder’s wife, works.”

“Oh, I wasn’t sure.”

Again, awkward silence.

“Well, what do you like to do with your time?” I ask again.

She takes a sip of her coffee, resting it down to the table as she speaks.

“I organize a lot of parties for the Brethren, galas, functions. That’s all me. Christopher hands me his card and says make it look nice,” she gushes.

I’m almost sad for her that being Christopher’s henchwoman is the most exciting thing she does with her time. I guess if she’s happy though, that’s what matters.

“Well, from the parties I’ve been to, you’ve done a wonderful job.”

She nods her thanks as our food is placed in front of us. She gives mine a disgusted look, like she’s mentally counting the calories, before shaking her head.

“So, I think it’s best if we address the elephant in the room,” she says as she daintily gathers a few pieces of lettuce on her fork.

“Elephant?” I ask.

“You sleeping with my son.”

My eyes widen as she takes her bite, chewing slowly before swallowing.

“Sweet girl, you didn’t honestly think the two of you were subtle, did you?” Alison laughs.

“I—”

“My question is, what will your husband think?” she asks, a hint of malice in her smile.

Is she trying to blackmail me? For what? What on earth would I have to offer her? Deciding that playing nice is over, I sit up straight, drop my smile and fold my hands in my lap. I give her a look that my father would surely be proud of as a condescending smile curves my face.

“My husband is well aware of Liam and myself.”

Her lips purse at that as she shakes her head.

“Ah, I see they are those type of Bond Brothers.”

“Excuse me?” I ask.

“The ones who share their women. The ones who use and abuse them until they are nothing but worthless trash who disappear. Careful, girl, your days are surely numbered at this rate.”

Not sweet girl anymore, just girl. Alrighty then.

“Speaking from experience?” I jab.

She waves her hand in dismissal. “Hardly.”

Her fork slams against her plate, gaining the interest of several diners, but she doesn’t pay them any mind as she leans forward, lowering her tone.

“My husband cherishes me, unlike yours, apparently. Look around, how many Elder’s wives are there? Just one, me. You know why that is? I keep my husband satisfied, and I keep my goddamn mouth shut. I live and breathe for the Brethren with a smile on my face. Anyone who tells you this isn’t a game of survival of the fittest has already lost. They’ve all lost, all but me.”

“And me,” I say, pushing my shoulders back a little further as I sit taller in my chair.

She rolls her eyes at me and shakes her head.

“Not for long at the rate you’re going. You’ve been a wife for less than three months and already your husband is auctioning you off like a common street whore. You’ll be dead and forgotten in two months.”

My mouth drops open in shock. “Is that a threat?”

“No, that’s a fucking guarantee.”

I stare at her for several seconds before I shake my head.

“Why did you invite me here? To threaten me? Blackmail me or something?”

“I invited you to educate you,” she says as she shakes her head, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder as those pale green eyes, Liam’s eyes, come back to me. “And to warn you. Fall in line quickly and you might survive. Continue down this…path and—”

“You’ll make sure I’m never found again?” I guess.

A malicious smile spreads across her face as she lifts a shoulder.

“I’ll leave that job to your husband. Apparently, he has quite the talent for a nasty death.”

My brows furrow at that. Did he have to kill someone for his initiation too? How does she know that? Something tells me her husband shouldn’t have told her, let alone have her telling others. I go with my gut and swing.

“Huh, I’ll have to chat with my father-in-law, oh, you know Christopher,” I smile like I’m being silly. “I’m sure he’ll be fascinated to know that not only is one of his Elders spilling induction secrets during pillow talk, but that his wife is then repeating such things in mixed company no less,” I say as I make dramatic eyes at the people around us.

She visibly pales before anger takes over her face. I’m so over this conversation and company, so I stand, throwing my napkin over my untouched food.

“We’ll see who winds up dead first, I suppose,” I say as I turn to walk away.

Sharp nails dig into my wrist as she holds me in place. I do my best not to show weakness, but it feels like she’s cutting me more than Vincent’s knife ever could.

“Stay the fuck away from my son! He’s set to be married soon, and you will chase away his fiancée!”

I scoff, shaking my head at her.

“Chase her away? Why would I do that when I prefer her in bed with us?” I lie, ripping my hand out of her grasp and sauntering out of the restaurant.

I can feel her fuming, but she doesn’t dare cause a scene. Not when I’ve just threatened her so beautifully. Honestly, no idea where that came from but I’m kind of proud of myself.

“What happened?” Vincent asks as he quickly steps beside me, opening the front door for me as we walk outside.

“She told me I’d be dead in months and I told her that I was gonna fuck her son and Maryia together.”

“What?” he snaps.

I shake my head. “Let’s just go. I’ll tell everyone when we get home.”

Vincent hands his ticket to the valet, but his body is turned, facing the restaurant. I can practically feel his body vibrating as he contemplates all the ways to kill Alison Walcott. She’s not worth it, though. She’s a deluded woman who feels a sense of superiority because her husband hasn’t offed her, unlike every other woman, it would seem. Maybe Steph had it right. Maybe my father is the one who killed my mother. It seems to be a pattern among the Elders. Get married, have a baby, kill your wife.

If he did, I’ll make sure that he suffers tenfold what she did. The lust to avenge her practically thrums in my veins the entire drive home, and I don’t stop vibrating with rage until we get there.