Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Veronica is far too good at hiding her emotions. It’s why I’ve never been able to get a read on her. But what I’ve noticed, especially this last week in particular, is that her mental shields are beginning to wane. As soon as I got a scent on her, she snapped those invisible walls back up tighter than a prison cell on Azkaban, and I haven’t been able to get one since.
Desperation. She is desperate for me to trust her. That’s what I got.
I’m making my way up to bed after dinner when Sam calls out. “Saint?” I turn around, my hand on the stair rail. He’s wearing a suit. He’s always wearing a suit. “Want to go for a walk?”
My routine bangs on the back of my head. The only consistency I’ve had since everything. Consistency I have relied on. In and out. “Ah…”
“I promise I won’t keep you past your bedtime.” His hands disappear into his pockets, his shoulders sagging. He looks vulnerable and at ease.
My shoulders relax. I’m being ridiculous. “Okay. I’ll just grab a hoodie.” I jog into my bedroom, take out an oversized Thrasher hoodie and zip it up, sending a quick text to Ophelia on my way out to let her know I’ll be a little late. I make my way back to a waiting Sam at the bottom of the stairwell. “Is there a reason for this late-night stroll?” I ask carefully, following him through the kitchen and to the back patio doors. The cleaners are still packing away our dinner plates, and Veronica is talking on the phone at the head of the table with a wine glass in her hand. Her eyes follow us as we walk past her, and something slams against my chest like a fist desperate for blood. This time she doesn’t send out desperation, she sends out pleasure, and this time, she wants me to feel it. She is happy I’m with Sam. Maybe she wants me to move on with someone new so that I will stay. I haven’t figured her out yet.
We continue around the dwindling fire and past the garden shrubs and colosseum monuments that round the extension of the house. The pool is extravagant, with a separate lounging area that sits right at the center of it. To get there, you have to take a couple steps down and walk around the edge of the pool. There’s a small fire pit in the middle of that lounging area, too, and on the other side of it inside the pool, a small bar.
“To answer your question, yes and no,” Sam says, and I don’t miss the way his pace slows when we hit the outside entry of the greenhouse. For some reason, I thought he wanted to go to the Garden of Eden, not the greenhouse. “Yes, because I wanted to check on you before tomorrow night. What with the opening and seeing him again—”
I pause, crossing my arms over my chest. Over the past two weeks I have been here, no one has said his name out loud. No one. I haven’t even thought of it. “Who told you about that?” Bet it was Frankie.
Sam cocks his head. To anyone else, it would probably look charming, but the truth is, he isn’t attractive to me. One day I might be ready to love again. But under no means will I force it. I found out something very quickly. My heartbeat isn’t silent. I can’t shut it off by will, or even by the most excruciating emotional pain I ever thought was possible. It will continue to beat, even with a crack all the way through it. Only now, it bleeds, too.
“Veronica. She didn’t tell me everything, just a quick rundown of why you might be a little on edge tomorrow and that I should be there for you.” He steps closer, and my blood turns to ice as his hand begins moving up to my face. I recoil away from it. He pauses, his hand now frozen in mid-air. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right.” I step around him, picking up the watering can and feeding some of the drier plants. “It’s just I would have told you had I wanted you to know.” I place the can down, turning to face him with a fake smile, but as soon as my eyes are on his, I’m falling to the ground. Everything turns black and my head screams in pain…
“Ahhh, the carnage, my dear Saint. How we meet again. Were you worried that I had left you?” I asked her, my back turned. This time I decided to keep her in the greenroom. The place she found the most solace. “Learning more about you these past few months has been one of the most—hmmm, what is the right word?” I paused, the smile on my face too bold for even myself to admit. “Euphoric. Drug-like? An addiction?” I kept my hands buried in my pockets. I didn’t need to turn around for her to know what I looked like. Her lover. Her dreamer. If only she knew the lies she had been fed. If only… though she never will. I have tried to feed off as much as I can. I can’t do anymore. I finally turned to face her. She was standing behind me, her eyes fixed everywhere but on me. She couldn’t face him. She couldn’t or wouldn’t. She was hurt. Good. I needed her pain. She would be smarter with pain. Humans always were. “Look at me, Saint.”