Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Cat
A s the sleigh bumps over the ground, I glance at Bennett. Over the past few days, I’ve seen a side of him that he hides from most everyone. He’s been vulnerable. Kind. He’s taken care of me, and he went above and beyond to help me overcome hurdles and make my first kill. Hell, he’s asked if I’m warm enough three times since leaving the shooting range, and he even offered his coat. I had to remind him that the coat is his disguise.
That’s when the hurt flashed in his eyes.
“Maybe I’d better get out when we reach the barn,” he whispers in my ear. “If Kindra was watching the camera feeds, she’s probably waiting at the mansion’s front door.”
I want to tell him no, that we’ve hidden this long enough and I’m ready to come clean. But I can’t. The words stick in my chest, sawing and tearing through me as the dark horses break through the trees and the barn comes into view.
Bennett waits to see if I’ll argue and tell him no, come to the mansion. When I don’t, the hurt returns to his eyes. He leans forward. “Stop the sleigh here,” he says. “I’ll walk the rest of the way.”
The coachman nods and brings the horses to a stop just outside the barn. Bennett checks his pockets to ensure he remembered his knife—we left everything else back at the shooting range—then slides past me to exit the sleigh.
I reach up and grip his hand as he passes. “Thank you for everything. Seriously, B-Maverick.”
He winces, then hops down.
Why do I have to make everything worse?
As I settle back again, the coachman clucks at the horses, and the sleigh jerks forward. I glance behind me, expecting some wistfully romantic moment where Bennett is just standing there, watching as I ride away. Instead, what I see is just depressing as fuck. Trudging through the sleigh’s deep tracks, he looks so alone.
“Stop the sleigh!” I shout, and the coachman slows the horses.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
I set my resolve and stand. “No, but it will be.”
With the grace of a drunk man on ice skates, I tumble out of the sleigh and pull myself to my feet. Bennett stops a few yards away, studying me as I dust snow from my ensemble, which doesn’t even match, since I’m wearing my decimated pink pants and Bennett’s tan coat.
“What are you doing?” he asks. “We can’t ride back together. That’s a suicide mission.”
“I know.” I turn to the driver. “Take the horses back to the barn. It’s cold, and they’ve done enough for today. We’ll walk back.”
A true coachman would have stood on ceremony and asked if I was sure, but this guy is a former criminal, and he’s more than happy to get back where it’s warm. Needing no further encouragement, he’s started the horses moving again before I’ve even finished my directive.
Bennett steps toward me, and I wait. I wanted to see something, and I definitely see it now. His posture is completely different. When the sleigh pulled away with me inside, he looked so defeated, with his shoulders down and his eyes on the ground. Now, as he’s walking toward me, his shoulders are braced back, and his eyes are up. On me.
I have affected him, just as he’s affected me. The shift is undeniable, and I feel it within myself. We may be a flame and a powder keg, but these things aren’t only bound for a path of destruction. If combined just right, we could be fireworks.
When he reaches me, he takes me into his arms and leans down. “You’ll be cold, kitten. Why didn’t you take the sleigh?”
“Maybe I wanted a few more minutes alone with you . . .” I stand on my tiptoes and lower his facemask so that I can kiss him. But a small peck isn’t enough for Bennett. He pulls me closer and kisses me fully, sending sparks of pleasure between my legs.
Or maybe that’s the draft, since I slashed my fucking snow pants to hell and back.
“A few minutes won’t be enough,” he says against my mouth. “I want to stay the night with you.”
My heart hammers through all fifty layers of clothing, and I’m sure he feels each terrified thump. “The night? Like, the whole thing?”
He rolls his eyes. “No, just the dark part.”
“It’s always dark.”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to stay there forever.”
I smack his chest and giggle as he smirks against my jaw and peppers my neck with kisses, the fear of what he’s asked forgotten. Surely he isn’t serious. It’s so risky.
Hand in hand, we start for the log mansion like two lovesick teens sneaking back from a midnight make-out session. My palms begin to sweat as porch lights come into view, and I’m thankful Bennett can’t feel my fear through the gloves. We’ll have to part ways, and he’ll need to sneak inside before anyone gets too close. On a shitty CCTV monitor, he can pass as Maverick, but if anyone gets within ten feet of us, the differences are obvious.
A large light at the front of the mansion casts a circle of discovery, which we’re careful to avoid. We stand just outside it, holding each other as snow begins to drift from the sky.
“I’m proud of you,” he says after a stretch of silence. “You no longer have to feel like an outsider. You’re one of us now, all the way.”
I smile against his—technically Maverick’s —coat. Maybe that’s where this sudden feeling of peace has come from. Though that orgasm certainly helped.
But then, as is often the case for me, the peace doesn’t last.
“You two lovebirds still at it?” Eve calls from the porch. “Come inside where it’s warm!”
“Shit,” I say under my breath. I look at Bennett. “You have to?—”
“I know, kitten. I know.” He sighs, shakes his head, places a kiss on my forehead, and retreats further into the shadows.
A pit forms in my stomach as I round the corner and step fully into the light. Not even Eve’s beaming smile and waggling fingers can ease the hurt I felt when I saw his face.
Because of me. I’m hurting him.
All this time, everyone was afraid Bennett would break my heart, but I’m the true villain here.
Eve and Kindra surround me and lead me inside. They cloak me in rapid-fire questions and high praises until I’m suffocating. I don’t even have a chance to respond to anything.
I hold up my hands as we enter the main hall. “Guys, I’m so grateful you’re excited for me, but I’m kind of tired. Any chance we can gush about this tomorrow?”
Their lips snap shut, and a worried glance passes between them. Kindra lowers my face mask and presses the backs of her hands against my cheeks.
“You okay?” she asks. “I mean, you just knocked two major events off your bucket list, and you don’t seem very excited about it.”
A flash of yellow rushes past one of the windows by the door—Maverick’s coat. Seconds later, Bennett’s face pops up behind the glass. I backpedal, angling my body in a way that forces Eve and Kindra to give the front door their backs.
“Actually, I think I’m catching a second wind,” I tell the girls. “Why don’t we head to the kitchen and grab something to eat?”
“ Now ?” Kindra says. “After taking two kills and fucking your crush, you want to eat?”
“Damn, you’re cold as fuck,” Eve says with a hint of admiration in her voice. “I couldn’t eat for a week after my first hit.”
I force a smile because food is the last fucking thing on my mind. I just have to get them away from the front hall.
“Well, the world takes all kinds.” I take a few steps backward. “You girls coming, or do I need to tell all the dirty details to a lump of mashed potatoes and a glass of something bubbly?”
“Bubbly? Shit, I’m in,” Kindra says.
“Me too!” Eve takes my arm in hers, and we start toward the dining room.
I sneak one backward glance over my shoulder, but Bennett is no longer outside the window.
My mind is a blur as we shuffle down the hallway. My mouth runs on autopilot, offering appropriate responses at the right points in the conversation. Even as we accept a bowl of lukewarm soup from Chef Maurice and take a seat in the dining room, my brain and my mouth are operating separately from each other.
I can’t stop worrying about Bennett and whether he made it back to his room without getting caught. But am I more worried for him or for myself?
This situation is turning me into someone I don’t want to be, and I’m not talking about the fucking murders I committed. I’ve become selfish, only thinking about myself and my needs. Lies come easily for me now, even when talking to the people I trust. I don’t recognize myself anymore.
“What was more exciting? The sex or the kill?” Eve asks as she enjoys a spoonful of soup. I think it’s a minestrone, but I’m not entirely sure.
I sip some champagne and swirl my spoon through the bowl. “They were both exciting for different reasons, but sleeping with Bennett probably wins.”
Spoons clatter, and Eve nearly knocks over her champagne flute. “Bennett?” the women say in unison.
“Maverick!” I mentally kick myself. “The sex with Maverick wins.”
Eve raises her eyebrows and her glass. “I was about to say . . .”
“And I was about to run to the basement for a fucking straitjacket,” Kindra says with a shake of her head. “The day you fuck Bennett is the day we are having you committed.”
“Hear, hear. And I’ll co-sign on that commitment.” Eve sips her drink, then studies the soup again. “You said you outlawed human meat for this shindig, right?”
“Yeah,” Kindra says. “Why?”
Eve tilts her spoon toward us, revealing the glint of a nose-ring stud.
“Oh, fucking sick,” Kindra groans. “First Cat says she fucked Bennett, and now you’re telling me that I’ve been tricked into cannibalism again. I’m not even trying to lose weight, but everyone is making it impossible to keep food down at this point.”
The women push their soup bowls away and continue giggling, but I can’t even bring myself to fake it. Because this is the moment I wanted to avoid. The ridicule. The little jokes that cut so much deeper than they realize.
Without a word, I push away from the table and rush out of the dining hall before they can see my tears.