Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“At least Chelsea knew when to quit,” he says, the words softer. Crueler. “Knew when to stop pretending she could fix you.”
The double meaning in his words makes me sick. Bile climbs up my throat. Chelsea letting go. Chelsea falling.
“You’re looking a little pale there, Salem.” His laughter is quiet, meant just for me. “Starting to count things in your head? Starting to feel that itch to clean everything? Starting to remember how it felt to see your best friend—”
“Stop.” My voice cracks. “Please … just … stop.”
“Why? Because you’re better now? Because Lee Sterling’s magic dick somehow cured you?” He leans forward, his presence invading my space. “We both know what really happened that night. We both know something in you cracked that night under the guilt, and now you’re paying for it with your counting and your stupid gloves.”
The walls start to close in around me. The world spins, and I’m so close to losing my footing. So close to falling into the abyss. I need to count. Need to clean. Need to—
“I love it,” Marcus continues, watching me unravel with obvious satisfaction. “Look at you, replacing one saving grace with another. First, Chelsea trying to fix you, now Lee. Wonder how long until he figures out you aren’t fixable? Wonder if he’ll let go, too?”
The cup trembles in my hands. Three shakes. Six ripples in the tea. Nine ceiling tiles visible from this angle.
“I actually feel bad for Sterling,” Marcus muses. “He has no idea the kind of crazy he’s trying to save. No idea what really happened the night Chelsea died.”
My world narrows to numbers and patterns, all in a desperate attempt to maintain control. Until a different voice, softer but firmer cuts through the chaos.
“Marcus.”
I blink, and I’m not sure I really believe what I’m seeing. Katherine Sterling stands at our table, peering down her nose at us. The shock is enough to draw me back to the present, curb the anxiety clawing through me.
“Marcus.” Katherine Sterling’s voice is a steel blade wrapped in silk. “I believe you’re making Miss Masters uncomfortable.”
I’ve never been so relieved to see Lee’s mother in my life. She stands there in her perfect Chanel suit, designer handbag, with an expression that could freeze hell. Marcus actually rears back like he’s ready to leap to his feet and run.
“Mrs. Sterling, I was just—”
“Just leaving.” She doesn’t raise her voice, doesn’t need to. Power radiates from her like a force field. “Unless you’d like me to call your father? I’m having lunch with him tomorrow. Board meeting, you know.”
The threat lands perfectly. Marcus retreats, throwing one last dark look my way before disappearing into the morning crowd. My hands shake in their silk prison as I try to count breaths and find my center again.
“May I?” Katherine gestures to the chair across from me, the picture of polite society. When I don’t immediately answer, she adds, “That boy has always been trouble. Your misfortune with his … behavior hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
My throat closes up. Does she know about that night? If she didn’t have me background checked, or whatever, she probably just heard it from Marcus.
“Thank you,” I manage. “For making him leave.”
“Of course, dear.” She slides into the seat with practiced grace. “We society women must stick together, mustn’t we?”
But I’m not a society woman. That’s the whole point. That’s why she will never approve of me with Lee. That’s why—
“You look surprised.” Her smile is perfect, practiced, and predatory. “Did you think I didn’t notice how you handled the gala?”
Warning bells ring in my head, even as a blush creeps up my neck, but I can’t find my voice. Can’t count my way out of this conversation.
“Lee tells me you’re doing better in crowds,” she continues, smoothing her already perfect skirt. “That you just need more exposure to our lifestyle.”
The praise feels wrong coming from her lips. Like poison wrapped in honey.
“I … yes.” I resist the urge to count the sugar packets arranged on the table. “Things are better. Will be better.” I glance in the direction of Marcus’s retreating form. “Sometimes large crowds rattle me, but things are better,” I repeat, more firmly this time.
“They are, aren’t they?” Her smile widens slightly. “For both of you. Lee’s been so much more … controlled lately. Behaving more suitably. More like the son I always knew he could be. Except for that little scene at the gala, which for him, was rather tame, if I’m being honest.”
Something in her tone makes my skin crawl beneath my gloves. This isn’t a casual coffee shop encounter. This isn’t a coincidence. She came looking for me.
“Mrs. Sterling—”
“Katherine, please.” She reaches across the table, stopping just short of touching my gloved hand. “I think it’s time we had a proper chat, don’t you? Woman to woman. About Lee’s future. About what’s best for him.”