Chapter Seventeen #3
He’d cradled his laptop and sat in the throne chair, resuming his frantic typing.
His grey eyes almost manic.
His skin etched with fine lines from lack of sleep.
For four awful days, I’d tried to get him to see me again.
To talk to me.
Touch me.
Fuck me.
And nothing.
He’d shut me out.
Cut me off.
Died right in front of me.
If he wasn’t typing, he had his nose in a book or his gaze on far-off places. He often woke me in the night, tossing and turning, muttering in his sleep before violently waking as if ready to attack some phantom.
The nights he shot awake covered in sweat, he slipped out the door and didn’t return until morning.
I’d followed him last night, my heart pinching as he made his way to the library and grabbed another book at random, diving into the pages as if it were an antidote to whatever poisoned his mind.
Pushing my worries away, I shook my head. “No, I haven’t asked him.”
“Why not?” Peter polished off the shortcake, his skin glowing a little healthier now that his fever had broken, and healing had progressed.
Rachel stood beside him, her own skin glowing with pregnancy hormones, her dark hair extra luscious.
The difference between being tortured every day and having three weeks of normalcy was blinding.
Looking back at Peter, I sighed heavily. “He doesn’t even notice me anymore.”
While Henri lost weight, Peter put it on.
His eyes lost the desperate need to look after everyone.
He still hobbled around with crutches and was confined to a chair or bed as much as possible—doctor’s orders as his feet continued to heal—but I’d been there the last time his bandages had been changed, and the difference in his soles and palms from the day in the cave to now couldn’t be compared.
“Oh he notices you, I can promise you that,” Peter whispered, careful of the cameras despite their lack of hearing. “You said he hasn’t touched you in weeks and it’s obvious. He looks like a man on death row every time I see him.”
Rachel added to Peter’s list. “You say he’s having nightmares and barely talks to you. Those are all signs of guilt, Ily.”
Peter interrupted, “He’s ashamed of what he’s done because he’s woken up and seen the light.” Lowering his voice, he muttered, “You need to give him a reason to fight again. To fight on the right side.”
“Peter’s right,” Rachel said. “It’s the shame that’s killing him. He needs a way to feel worthy.”
“Give him a way to redeem himself.” Peter crossed his arms.
I looked between the two of them and their seemingly planned attack. “I can’t believe you’re suddenly the president of his fan club.” I met Peter’s dark stare. “You said he’s the worst of the worst.”
“He is.” Peter nodded. “And we need the worst on our side. Besides...” He shrugged.
“I can’t explain what I saw. But I know I saw something.
Kyle helped Victor burn me. Kyle’s the reason Suri and Dane chose to be shot and why so many of us have been carved and are missing pieces.
I would’ve been grateful to anyone who stopped that fucker, but waking up just as Henri was stabbing him? I thought he was a goddamn angel.”
I forced a smile even though my insides felt heavy. “You were on death’s door, Paavak. I’m not surprised you saw angels.”
He nodded. “I agree I hallucinated quite a bit at the end there. I thought you were burying me alive at one point—”
“We told you, Pete. We were dragging you out of the earth not pushing you into it.” Rachel rolled her eyes with a grin.
Peter glanced at his bandaged hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t wake to help you.”
Rachel smirked. “It would’ve been a help, not gonna lie. You’re skinny, but man, you’re heavy.”
He snickered.
My heart tangled with utter gratitude that my friends were okay even as I sank into a sea of confusion that Henri wasn’t.
Well, most of my friends were okay.
Five jewels had lost their lives.
The knowledge of that refused to soak into my brain, almost as if my system protected me from the sheer horror of their deaths.
When we were free, then we could mourn.
For now...we needed to focus on the living, not the dead.
At least the seven slaves that’d been healing were now back in the dormitory with the rest. Peter had resumed his position as shepherd, and each day the Masters stayed away, the jewels grew a little braver in tiptoeing into the kitchens looking for food.
Peter didn’t stop them as it covered our clandestine meetings. May and a few other cooks happily stuffed freshly baked croissants and delicious morsels into eager hands.
The guards got lazy and never stopped anyone.
They watched. They followed sometimes. But no one told us no.
No one electrified us if we went for a walk in the gardens or kept busy by helping other staff.
I’d even heard Nancy and Rebecca had taken over looking after the chickens, spending all day out there.
The only one who seemed determined to die was Kirk.
His fight had ended with Suri.
He didn’t speak a word to any of us.
He stayed on his own, sleeping or sitting on the balcony with its black barred birdcage trapping him, denying him the chance to jump and join Suri.
He had the same hollow look in his eyes that Henri did.
I froze.
Henri...
Was that what the broken-hearted look was? A reflection of all the shattered pieces within?
Does he want to die?
He’d tried once before.
The scar on his leg revealed evidence of that desperation.
Could he...could he do it again?
Urgent fear. Terrible premonition.
God, how had I not seen it?
Before, this place was a playground for demons. Now, it was a heavenly holiday for the jewels.
Henri was the only demon left in their midst, and it showed.
Everyone ignored him.
The guards didn’t go near him, the staff stayed clear, and the jewels darted away if he came close. He acted as if it didn’t bother him to be so blatantly unwanted, but...every day, he retreated a little more, sank a little more, became a little less alive than before.
“I-I have to go.” I backed away.
Panic fizzled in my blood.
What if he’d done it?
What if he’d hurt himself all while I’d been too focused on escape to notice he’d fallen so far into his own imprisonment?
“You’re going to ask him?” Rachel arched an eyebrow.
“We’re running out of time,” Peter whispered.
“We won’t be able to keep meeting like this when the Masters are back in residence.
We’ll probably have hell to pay once Victor sits down and sees how often we’ve come into the kitchens.
Hopefully, he’ll just think we’re being pigs and indulging in food while he’s not here to enforce his smoothie rule, but...
we need to get everything locked away so we all know our jobs and can keep working without checking in with each other. ”
I nodded. “I know.”
Stepping into me, Peter murmured, “Don’t be afraid of using him for your own ends, jaanu. You have to know how he feels about you. Use that to your advantage. Don’t let your goodness get in the way of manipulating him.”
I hid my shiver at the thought of being cruel enough to wield someone’s emotions for my own gain.
But...it wasn’t just about me.
My shoulders rolled and honesty spilled free despite myself.
“I think whatever you saw the night he killed Kyle might’ve died in that cave too.
He can barely look at me anymore and...and the truth is.
” I looked down, unable to keep eye contact.
“I asked him to play along with me the night of Emerald Bruises. I was as high as a kite and let my guard down. I practically begged him to choose me. I said if the guy who asked me to play along with him was still in there to play with me now.”
Peter sucked in a breath. “What did he say?”
“He didn’t say anything.” I looked up and stepped back. “And that’s the problem.”
Peter studied my eyes. His own gave too much away.
Asking me to seduce Henri hurt him. His love for me exceeded the bounds of friendship.
And every day he grew stronger, I feared he’d step over the line between us and force me to admit that I loved him as deeply as I did my brother, but...
the tormented beast I slept with conjured a different sort of—
Not love.
Never that.
What I felt for Henri had no title, no definition.
It was just...ugh.
Kissing Peter’s cheek, I smiled at the girls and backed away. “Look, I’ll try again tonight. I’ll do whatever it takes to find out if Henri can be trusted. I’ll see you later.”
Slipping out of the kitchens, I broke into a run.
Henri would most likely be in the library working.
That would give me time to figure out how the hell I could get through to him...before it was too late.