I frown. “I don’t think so.”

  Garnet guides me to the table, and we sit at opposite ends.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks.

  “Not really.”

  “You must eat, Briony.”

  Ben enters with three servers who set down dishes scattered with lumps of colorful meat and green stuff that looks like diced grass. The food smells sour and oddly sweet.

  “No interruptions,” my uncle tells Ben. “No calls. Not tonight.”

  “Very well, sir.”

  We’re alone again, and a shiver runs down my spine. I poke at a lump on my plate. “What is it?”

  “Razor clam,” my uncle says. “Eat.”

  He cuts at his food, his eyes never leaving me. I sip a glass of water and try to work up the courage to tell him I'm going to bed. My appetite fades to nothing as the minutes pass. I wish he wouldn’t stare at me all the time. I wish I could eat alone without having to sit at this table in a dress that feels slimy on my skin, even though it’s real silk and probably cost a fortune.

  My uncle dabs his mouth with a napkin before he walks to my chair. I lower my gaze, my heart beating like a hammer. A sickly stench that reminds me of roses and vinegar surrounds him.

  “Let me see your eyes,” he says.

  I lift my gaze reluctantly.

  Garnet touches my hair. “You’re a woman now in every sense of the word. So you will understand what I want from you.”

  A cold knot forms in the pit of my belly. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been with Vincent, have you not? Sexually.”

  My face burns. “Y-Yes.”

  “How many times?”

  I can’t form words. My tongue feels like sandpaper.

  “Quite all right, Briony. That’s in the past. You will learn to love me now. You’ll learn to live at my side.”

  I find my voice at last. “W-What?”

  Garnet takes his hand away, his eyes burning darkly. “Let me tell you a story, my dear. Once upon a time, a boy fell in love with a girl, or he thought he did. This boy was foolish, and fanciful ideas filled his head. The girl did not love him back. The girl wanted a man, not some starry-eyed runt. She desired the boy’s older brother instead, and she gave herself to him. The brother and the girl lived happily ever after—for a short while.”

  I can hear myself breathing. Uncle Garnet smiles.

  “The boy brooded,” he goes on. “The boy grew older and stronger. He surpassed his brother in all ways, becoming a man to be feared. He vowed he would hurt that wretched girl as she did him all those years ago. And if he can’t have her,” Garnet says in a soft voice, “he’ll take her daughter instead.”

  I gasp when Garnet puts his hand on my bare shoulder. Slowly his fingers tighten, and it starts to hurt. “Stop it!”

  “You belong to me now, Briony Rowan. You will give me everything your mother did not.” His expression fills with rage, twisting like it did in the car ride when I told him my wish to stay with Vincent. He glares at me for a long time, and he leans closer and closer.

  A deafening boom cuts through the silence as the floor tremors. I hear screams in the distance. Garnet topples over my plate as I push away from the table. Red oil from the food stains his suit.

  There’s a screeching noise from the hallway outside, some kind of alarm, and the lights flicker. I stumble back against a wall, trying to get away from my uncle. A swirl of plaster falls from the ceiling. Was it an earthquake? No, the tremors lasted only an instant.

  The door to the dining room flies open, and Ben rushes in holding a gun. “Mr. Baxter!”

  “What’s happening?”

  “A car rammed into the house from the rear, sir. I think it’s Reed.”

  My uncle throws me a hard look. “Keep an eye on her,” he tells Ben and hurries out.

  Ben closes the door. He edges to the far wall, his gun aimed at the doorway. “Stay where you are, Ms. Rowan.”

  I’m rooted to the spot, my stunned heart beating a million miles an hour. Uncle Garnet was trying to kiss me. I take long breaths trying to calm myself. Then Ben’s words sink in. Vincent is here. I want to ask Ben what’s happening, but his face is set in stone. He scares me.

  Muffled voices and bangs come from outside. Gunshots, I think. They seem to get closer. I feel my way along the wall toward the other end of the room.

  “Don’t fucking move,” Ben shouts, aiming his weapon at me. “Stay right there.”

  I freeze midstep.

  The door flings open. Ben swings back around. I see a splash of blood darken Ben’s chest before he drops like a sack. Someone shot him. A bitter smell fills the air as my ears ring from the bang. Then Vincent enters the room holding a black handgun. He checks Ben’s body before he glances my way.

  “Briony.”

  My world goes to slow motion. I gape at him in shock, expecting him to fade away like a mirage. Vincent walks closer as the gun falls to his side. He’s really here. Dust and soot cover his face, and the sleeve of his gray jacket is torn. He looks as if he walked through a fire.

  “Bri!”

  “You came back,” I whisper.

  Vincent extends his hand. “Had to.”

  Dizziness makes me wobble as my heart pounds. I can taste him, the memories of those nights we spent together rushing back. Then the pain of his lies. “Stay away from me,” I say.

  He keeps walking forward. “Bri, please.”

  “Stay away!” I don’t know what to do, where to run. I want to turn away from Vincent, but my vision won’t stop spinning. My breathing comes faster and faster, and sweat pops out on my forehead. The floor seems to fall away. I topple backward before Vincent catches me by the waist.

  He holds me like the first time we met. “Deep breaths, Briony.”

  I try to push him off, but there’s no strength in my body. Soon I stop trying and cling to him, pulling him against me. It feels better than pushing. “Why’d you come back?”

  “I love you.”

  “Liar.”

  He kisses me and sucks the air from my lungs. “Baby I’m sorry. There’s no time to explain. We have to go.”

  “Mia.”

  Vincent scowls, but I won’t leave without that cat.

  “Where is she?”

  “Upstairs in my room.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Get her.”

  Vincent leads me out of the dining toward the nearest staircase. My uncle’s nowhere to be seen. Two maids run past, and Vincent tells them to get out of the mansion. I hear angry shouting from another hallway. The alarm gets louder, slicing through my eardrums.

  We head upstairs with Vincent in front.

  In my room, I grab my backpack, but there’s no sign of Mia. I yell for her, look under the bed and in every closet and the bathroom.

  Vincent’s standing by the door with his gun, watching the hallway. “She must’ve run off,” he says. “We can’t stay here.”

  A sob rises in my chest. “I’m not leaving without Mia!”

  Vincent darts to my side and kisses my hair. “She’ll be fine. Cats always land on their feet. People don’t.”

  “She’s all I have left of Mom.”

  “And Amelia would want you safe. Come on, Bri.”

  I think of the story Uncle Garnet told me at dinner. Everything that’s happened revolves around Mom. Then a cold wave hits me when I remember how Garnet leaned down to kiss me.

  Vincent shakes my shoulders. “We have to move.”

  I give in, and we rush back downstairs. Vincent takes me to the back of the mansion, where I see his car smashed through the glass greenhouse. There are shards of glass and debris everywhere. A guard’s body is crumpled under the front wheel.

  “You drove into the house?”

  “I didn’t think knocking was a good idea.”

  Vincent spots something over my shoulder and pulls me around his back. My uncle’s chauffeur is aiming a pistol at us. Vincent fires first. The man howls and tumbles in a heap.

  “You shot him!”

  “I’d shoot him again,” Vincent says. “Let’s go. Garnet’s security will be here any second.”

  We clamber into the car. Kayla comes out of a door and starts shooting at the windshield, but Vincent’s already backing out, the tires crunching over glass and screeching smoke. He drives the car over the rear lawn. Then he slams the gas pedal, and soon we’re weaving down a lane into the woods.

  “Where are we going?” I say.

  “Anywhere but here.”

  He drives all night long on the highway north. Until there are no more towns in the distance, only forests. Exhausted, I shut my eyes and drift into a black sleep. When I wake up, we’ve left D.C. behind. Vincent says we crossed into Pennsylvania sometime during the night.

  It’s Monday morning.

  The gas meter is flashing red.

  We pull into a roadside gas station. Vincent fills up, then gets back in the car without starting the engine. He leans his head back. I see the weariness in his eyes, the way his fingers shake slightly on the wheel. He tells me about Dr. Campbell. Leaving me at the mansion was the only way to save the doctor's life. My uncle would've murdered her if Vincent hadn't handed me over.

  “So you traded me,” I mutter.

  “I didn’t have a choice, Briony. I—I owe that woman a lot. I couldn’t let her die. She saved my ass more than a few times when I was a kid.”

  Olivia Campbell saved mine too when she brought my fever down, but I can’t keep the hurt out of my voice. Vincent used me in his plan. “You could’ve told me.”

  “I never had the chance. Your uncle . . . ” He trails off.

  “He tried to rape me.”

  “I’m sorry, baby. I came back soon as I could.”

  Tears blur my eyes. “I still hate you.”

  “That’s fair.”

  The sky is gray, and I can smell rain on the air. Vincent watches me. I can’t meet his eyes. “What now?” I whisper.

  “We get you somewhere safe.”

  “You need to rest.”

  “I’m fine,” he says.

  “You’re tired.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re lying.”

  Vincent growls. “Alright, I’m lying. The truth is I’m fucking tired. But we can’t stop.”

  “Don’t lie to me ever again. Promise.”

  “I promise.”

  We stare at each for a while. “It doesn’t matter how far we go,” I whisper. “If my uncle wants to find us he will. We can’t run forever. I’m sick of running, Vincent. I’m sick of the secrets. What happened between my mother and Garnet?”

  “Your uncle,” Vincent says, “was in love with Amelia many years ago. When they were young. Those letters we found at her apartment were from Garnet. She never returned his feelings. Amelia thought Garnet was immature, a spoiled boy. She chose Garnet’s brother instead. Edward, the man who would become your father. Garnet pretended to let go, he even served as best man at their wedding. Years passed, then your parents had you. Garnet played the loving uncle until your father died. He tried to court your mother again. Amelia was in grief, and she almost fell for him.”

  “Mom was in grief?” She never showed any emotion around me.

  “She hid a lot from you,” Vincent says. “In her own way, she thought she was protecting you. Amelia found out Garnet was only interested in revenge. She didn’t fall for him. She realized Garnet Baxter never forgave her or Edward. His idea of revenge is to make you his lover. Seduce you, force you, whatever it took. That’s why Amelia sent you to boarding school. ”

  Blood pounds in my temples, and I want to throw up. “H-How do you know this?”

  “I still have her laptop. Your mother left a recording.”

  “Show me.”

  “We can’t stop today. Briony, it’s not going to change anything now—”

  “I want to stop. I want to see Mom’s message. You have no right to tell me what to do.” I look away. “My uncle doesn’t know how to love. Maybe you don’t either.”

  Vincent says in a thick voice, “Fine.”

  “Fine what?”

  “We’ll find a place to stop.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Briony

  The motel sits beside a rural road that cuts through the forest. We’re several miles from the highway exit, and the humid air smells of pine. Vincent checks in first. Then he searches the room to make sure it’s safe. He parks his car out back where it can’t be seen from the road. There are no other guests, but he takes every precaution.

  Inside, Vincent pulls the curtains shut. He opens Mom’s laptop on a table and shows me the video.

  I sit absolutely still at the edge of a bed with Vincent beside me.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  “Play it.”

  When I see Mom’s face, tears burn my eyes. I can’t help it. She has no makeup on and her hair looks thin. I’ve never seen her so fragile, and when she speaks she sounds like a different woman, her voice shaking with sadness. The recording starts with an apology. “Briony, I’m so sorry.”

  Vincent holds my hand.

  Mom goes on, telling me things she never told me in life. She wishes she’d shown me more affection, that we’d been closer. But she didn’t know how to be close. She loved me, but she didn’t know how to show it. Her parents—the grandparents I barely knew—raised her the same way.

  She explains her past with Garnet and my father. They may be brothers, but they are different as can be. Edward Baxter, despite his faults, tried to be a good man. Garnet gave in to the darkness inside him. He let it consume him until there was nothing left but twisted hatred. And in a perverse way, it made him strong.

  “I have so many regrets, Briony,” she says through the screen. “All except you. The day you were born was the happiest of my life. Your father’s too. We only wanted the best for you.” She reaches toward the camera, tears rolling down her cheeks. “No matter what happens, know that we’re proud of you. You’re not like us, you’ll find your way. If something should happen to me, I will leave everything to you. Don’t make the same mistakes we did.” She kisses her fingers then touches the camera.

  The video ends.

  A sniffle leaves me, and Vincent holds my shoulders. I shake him off.

  “You worked with my uncle for years,” I say. “You didn’t know about this?”

  “Garnet never let me into his personal life. Briony, I didn’t know you existed until that day at the station. Until I saw you.”

  “Now you’re in love with me.”

  “Yes,” he says.

  I look into Vincent’s eyes. It’s only been five days since we’ve met, but it feels like a lifetime. I don’t trust my feelings anymore. I close the laptop and hug my knees. “Please leave me alone. I need to think.”

  “Bri—”

  “Just go, Vincent.”

  “I’ll be outside.”

  “Fine.”

  When the door closes, I lie down and pull a blanket over my chest. Exhaustion smothers me. I close my eyes and try to think of happier times, but nothing comes to mind.

  His hand rouses me awake, and the smell of something fried fills my nostrils. Vincent strokes my chin. I push up on an elbow to see a bag of food on the table.

  “Where’d you get that?”

  “Motel’s owner,” Vincent says. “No restaurants nearby and I told him my baby girl is hungry.” He smiles.

  “I’m not your baby girl.”

  Vincent runs a hand through his hair. “Well, are you hungry, Ms. Rowan?”

  “What is it anyway?”

  “Burgers and fries. It looks good.”

  I chew my lip. The lamp is on, and there’s no light behind the curtains. “How long did I sleep?”

  “A few hours.”

  My eyes wander over Vincent’s body. His shirt is open, and the lamp throws sharp shadows in the ridges of his muscles. His black hair is freshly combed, the dust and grime from the mansion washed off. Heat creeps over my face, and I look away. “Did you take a shower?”

  “Yeah. You should too. You need to eat and get cleaned up.”

  I do feel yucky, and I’m still wearing the slip dress I put on for dinner at my uncle’s mansion. The memory makes me sick before I glance at Vincent again, the feral light in his gaze. The hunger in his eyes as they roam down my legs. “What are you looking at?” I ask.

  “You.”

  “Oh. You want to fuck, is that it? Typical.”

  “Don’t use that tone with me,” he says in a soft voice.

  “Or what? You’ll spank me?” I hop off the bed and dig out a pair of denim shorts from my backpack. I walk into the bathroom. The mirror is still foggy from Vincent’s shower, and I wipe it clean to see him standing behind me. “Stop following me. I need to change.”

  “No.”

  “Get out.” I try to raise my voice, but all that comes out is a whiny whisper. I hate how needy I sound. I hate how his presence stirs my body.

  “No,” Vincent growls. “If you want to change, change.”

  “Not while you’re watching.”

  His eyes flicker. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, little girl.”

  Vincent stands there like a statue and it pisses me off, so I slap him. I slap him again and again until my palm hurts. His skin feels warm. He touches his face and shrugs, the muscles in his shoulders shifting under the skin.

  “Take your dress off,” he says, stepping into me.

  My face burns as I pull down the straps. The dress puddles at my feet. We glare at each other in silence as heat churns between my thighs. Vincent tugs my bra off, freeing my breasts, and I know he can see how stiff my nipples are. Another yank below, and my panties slide to my knees. Vincent’s eyes never leave mine as he slides a finger between my drenched folds.

  Explosions shoot through my body, and I clutch the counter as his finger sinks to the knuckle, rubbing under my front wall. His thumb finds my clit, and he presses.

  I gasp.

  The hard bulk of his body pins me against the sink, the shape of his hard cock bending on my thigh. Vincent’s eyes are fierce. The beast in him comes out, that savage primal man taking control.

 

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