Chapter 54 Neve
FIFTY-FOUR
NEVE
“Iknow you’re not wearing your glasses so maybe you didn’t see it, but…
” Cynthia knocks her engraved tumbler against my own, some sort of raven etched across the pristine, heavy glass.
“It looked a hell of a lot like you were cuddled up between Frostbite and Faust Darling over there on that serpent green couch in the rich people shit living room.” She swallows the rum and pineapple juice chilled with ice.
Despite the sheer size of Castle Darling, the common rooms—kitchen, living room with the TV (there are multiple living rooms), even the bathroom right outside of it—are extremely warm. The gas fireplaces dotted along the lower level like other people might drop socks probably help.
Or maybe it’s the matching drink to Cyn’s I have in my hand.
The one I bring to my lips now and let burn down my throat.
It’s my second one, and while I’m still clinging to some state of sober, it helps the draftiness in other parts of the castle, like walking down the darkened corridors.
Or staring at Cynthia now as she pops a brow, expectant.
I take another drink. The pineapple is organic, the rum Appleton, and the ice comes from a compartment on the outside of the door.
Rich people shit isn’t wrong. I know this house was an inheritance, but having wealthy people in your family to inherit from is a luxury neither Cynthia nor I have been afforded.
“How worried should Tasia be about getting back her forward?” Cynthia presses as she nudges me with her shoulder. She’s trying to distract me, and it’s working.
I take another drink, leaning against the matte black counters. It’s like Castle Darling was made for me, an extension of Darkmouth, a few streets away. All this time on the same campus as Faust, and I never knew my own throne was here.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
I know how I am, using sex as a weapon to cut off emotional ties. And while I feel like I’m slipping, I don’t want to. I’m too experienced with this kind of sabotage. A master at it, if you will.
Besides, where does Nolan fit into all of this? The shredded textbook, the fact he hasn’t been found, the quiet manhunt? Nolan is many things, and maybe he’s crazier than I realized, but he’s not a serial killer.
Which means someone on this campus is, and who is to say it couldn’t be the two boys who took me out, fed me, and both kissed my shoulder right in front of the waiter whose eyes lingered on me a little too long?
“Tasia better watch herself,” I say, my tongue loose from the alcohol, or maybe just the giddiness from Cyn, being with Tylone tonight in this house, and how free of judgment she seems for my choices.
“If she tries again, we’re going to have problems.” No doubt Karter will report on everything she’s seeing tonight if Tas asks, but in my mind, that’s a good thing. Let Tasia know to back the fuck up.
Cynthia’s brows rise and she takes another drink in our quiet corner of the kitchen. Night has long fallen, and snow builds against the windowpanes. In here, it’s like we’re in our own little world.
Cyn swallows. “Good for you,” she says, and it sounds like she means it. “Now let’s talk about Darkmouth. Do we have a hostile takeover situation?”
My stomach twists. She doesn’t know about my meeting with Detective Lincoln.
The shredded textbook. The fact Nolan seems to be hiding which, yes, makes him look guilty.
But I’ve read about cases where innocent people run when the evidence feels stacked up against them and they have no one they can trust to hear them out.
The fact Nolan has been in Ontario since Canadian Thanksgiving without telling me makes me feel clammy, but it doesn’t mean he did anything. He could have been going through his own shit, and he’s always so attentive to mine, I just never thought to ask.
“What are you not telling me?” Cynthia asks, her tone sharp. I have a better poker face in front of quite literally anyone else. But with her, with this drink in my hand, the late hour, all the shit that’s gone down over the past few weeks, I am tired.
“Yes, Neve.” Sylvan’s voice is a cold purr from the back of the kitchen. My eyes jump to his as he leans against the doorway, his arms folded, his light gaze locked on my own. “Tell her all the secrets you’re keeping.”
“No, I get it.” Tye takes a drink from his whiskey, the orange peel floating in the amber liquid. “He’s family. I’d protect my brother at all costs.” Tye’s light brown eyes catch the light of the fire all of us are seated around.
Me, between Faust and Sylvan on a blanket. My head is against Faust’s shoulder, Sylvan’s fingers on my bare thighs beneath the quilt overtop the three of us, although mostly just me since the other two are freakishly huge. Athletes seem to be a different breed of human entirely.
Tye himself has his long legs stretched out in front of the fire across from us, and Cynthia is in his lap, her eyes heavily lidded, gaze on the dancing flames. Tye has one arm slung around her body, keeping her close, his grip possessive, and my best friend doesn’t seem to mind at all.
Or maybe she’s just processing everything I told her. About Will, finally, and Nolan, the textbook, the fact Nolan is nowhere to be found. She took it better than I expected, understanding why I lied to her about Will. But she’s said little, so maybe she’s just lost for words.
Karter and Edmond are curiously quiet, seated on the velvet red couch curved around the fireplace, both drawn to the flames, too.
Edmond breaks his silence with a question and it takes me a moment to realize it’s directed toward me. “Do you think he’s capable of killing?”
Sylvan’s fingers tighten on my thigh as he slides his hand up higher, beneath my sleep shorts. The gesture causes my breath to catch, and I widen my legs as my heart thunders in my chest.
When I glance at Edmond, he’s not looking at me. He’s staring into the flames.
“No,” I answer, grateful my voice doesn’t break on the word. “I don’t.”
“You know how it is, though,” Edmond pushes, but gently.
He still doesn’t look at me, and Sylvan’s grip grows tighter as Faust presses a kiss to my temple, his presence as soothing as the warmth surrounding us.
“So many families are just as shocked as the general public when a serial killer is named.” Finally, Edmond’s gaze drifts to mine.
He holds my stare, and I want to be angry, but there’s nothing condemning in his expression.
“I know you’re not protecting him, or keeping him from the police, but if he reaches out to you, it’s something to consider. ”
My throat feels tight. Would I turn him in? As it is, he hasn’t replied to any of my texts or calls, although they’re all going through. I have no idea if Lincoln and his team are trying to trace his phone, or if Nolan even has it on him.
Mom hasn’t called or texted me, and the news isn’t reporting he’s a suspect or on the run. I think they’re trying to keep it quiet so as not to spook him.
Although it seems a little too late for that.
“Neve will do the right thing.” Cynthia says, her voice firm despite her drowsiness. Despite my lies to her. “She’s got this.”
“What if he turns on you next?” Karter’s words from the couch, her voice small as she rakes her fingers through her green hair, avoiding all of our eyes.
Sylvan’s fingertips are going to bruise my thigh, the way he’s gripping me so possessively.
“No one can get to her, through us.” Faust is the one to speak, his tone low. He kisses my temple again and warmth flares through me, hotter than the fire in front of me.
“That’s for damn sure,” Tye murmurs, lifting his glass in an imaginary cheers before he downs the rest of it. His deep brown skin is illuminated in gold from the flames and he squeezes Cynthia tighter.
“Maybe we shouldn’t all be here tonight though,” Edmond says, a note of panic in his voice. “An easy, mass target.”
Sylvan snorts, but he says nothing. I know what he’s thinking. He’s never the target.
“I have security cameras at the gate.” Faust speaks quietly, his voice a rumble in his chest I can feel.
“Really?” Cynthia asks, perking up.
“There’s a camera room here,” Faust continues. “Never use it, really needs someone to man it, but it exists. If he comes on this property, we’ll know.”
“It’s not my brother,” I protest as the little hairs on the back of my neck prick up, thinking of Faust’s cameras. “We don’t even know it’s a he.”
Edmond laughs but in a kind way. “Come on, Neve. You know better than that. It may not be your brother, but odds are high it’s a man.”
I can’t argue with him. I turn my head and my gaze collides with Sylvan, his grip no less bruising than it was moments ago.
I think of what they said to me about taking both of them, and warmth pools in my low belly despite my exhaustion. But as if he’s sensing what I want, what I need, he shakes his head once.
“Not tonight, baby girl.” His voice is low, and even if everyone can hear him, they don’t know what we’re talking about.
I open my mouth to protest, but Faust’s lips graze across my ear, causing a shiver to run down my body. “He’s right,” he says softly. “Tonight, you let us protect you while you sleep.”
I turn to him, my brows drown together. I’m not a virgin who needs to be handled delicately. But before I can argue, he speaks again, his forehead pressed to mine, our lips close together.
“And you protect me, too,” he says so quietly I know no one else can hear as the fire pops and crackles beside us. “Without you,” he whispers, “I don’t sleep.”