Chapter Thirteen #2
My mind goes back to the day I was sitting beside Maksim at breakfast and Poppy was all over him, but her large, wobbly tits were on my husband.
Envy surges through me. Poppy could learn a thing or two from Miss Nelly, but I’m pretty sure the only kind of bowing Poppy knows how to do is over something.
I roll my eyes at myself. Christ, I’m getting angry over a memory.
I take a deep breath and sit on the edge of the enormous bed, letting my fists shake in my lap.
I can feel the hives wanting to break along my skin, like tiny little heated scratches.
I breathe in as deeply as I can, pushing down all of my turmoil.
I am fine. I have taken in as much valuable information as I can so far.
I’m here for Maksim. I’m here to find my husband.
So then why do I feel so fucking hopeless?
I flop back and stare up at the designs on the ceiling only to grab a pillow, turn over, and scream into it.
There has been no fucking movement. I feel like I’m losing it.
Be here until further notice? I’d rather die.
Oh my God, I’m fucking spiraling. I’m talking to myself!
I inhale as deep as I can, letting it out as slowly as I can.
Don’t break, don't break, don't break. I’m not allowed to break. Breathe, Sabrina. What would Raven do?
Sleuth.
I get off the bed and head to the bathroom, splashing cool water on my face. I hang my head back, letting the water drip down to my chest, then face forward to look at the ghost of my former self staring back with haunted eyes.
Don’t break, don't break, don't. Break.
I have more than half a mind to wind my arm back and break the mirror, just to feel every shard of glass penetrate my skin so I feel something other than… this—
Hopeless.
Nightfall comes just an hour after we’ve had our dinner of a very hearty soup that helps settle me.
The conversation between Kane and I flows a little easily.
He hasn’t pushed; he only seems to be watching my every move, as though he’s trying to make sure I’m really happy and not simply acting.
He’s trying to dissect me. His touches are small but deliberate throughout, testing me.
The fire crackles to my left as I watch from the window in the library as the maids take off in their own vehicles for the evening.
Kane puts on a record and low music plays in the background, and I recognize Dahlia Collins’ voice immediately.
I look up at him from where I’m sitting sideways on the settee, ‘reading’ a book.
We’re alone now, save Raven, who I haven’t seen since this morning.
Kane holds his hand out to me with a boyish, charming smile on his face.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Care to dance with me? I know how much you used to adore Dahlia.”
I do the polite thing and set my book down and take his hand.
He hauls me to him, chest against chest since he’s only a few inches taller than me.
Nothing like Maksim or Parker. I put my hand on his shoulder as he embraces me, one warm hand going to the small of my back.
I wish I could say he doesn’t smell good.
He does. He just smells wrong. And he’s the wrong height. The wrong voice. And—
Don’t break.
How many times can I withhold a tremor before cracking? Each one pushes closer and closer to the surface, and I feel like I'm not even alive. I feel as though I've been suspended midair, watching all of this happen before me like some fucked-up version of The Sabrina Show.
Suspended in midair with nowhere to crash.
Nowhere to burn.
I slowly move my hands up Kane's chest, leaning into him, feeling the smooth fabric of his shirt beneath my fingertips as my thumbs find his Adam's apple.
He peers into my eyes as I press harder…
harder…his face growing purple from lack of oxygen, saliva collecting at the corner of his lips as he chokes out my name.
I press so deeply I break skin and blood pools over my fingernails, down the collar of his shirt.
It's glorious. Vibrant. So rich and red and—
Kane and I sway side to side before he steps away to spin me, and I let out a soft giggle—because I'm fucking losing my mind—causing him to grin before pulling me back to him. Charlie, help me. “This is how I always imagined us,” he whispers against my hair. “Dinner together, laughing, ending the evening with you in my arms dancing. I’ve always simply wanted to treat you like the queen you are since we were pre-teens. For such a long time it felt so out of reach, but here you are.”
I lean a bit away to peer into his hazel eyes. “Here I am,” I whisper, searching his eyes. I want to snap his fucking neck. My brows pinch together. “What are we going to do, Kane? Hmm? By law I’m still married. I can’t go back to New York. His men are there.”
“Then you shall stay with me in Kensington, as it should’ve been.
All will be well, Sabrina. Just trust me.
” A lazy smile crawls across his face; the shadows casted by the fireplace behind us make him look more sinister than charming.
“I told you, darling, I have your dear husband chained up at another location.”
“You promise? You swear you have him? You’ll take me away from this? You’ll protect me?”
“Yes, and I do have him. We’ve had to move him. His men have been so close to finding him, but now, well, he’s being prepared for the games.”
My brows knit together, my heart racing. “The… games?”
He grins wickedly. Gone is the boyish charm. “I’m hunting him myself like the beast he is, darling.”
I try to taper the shiver that rolls down my spine, the flaring of my nostrils, and the need to take the paperweight off the desk and smash his fucking face in. My stomach rolls. “Where?” I coax meekly.
He looks away, unsure if he should tell me, but then he sighs. “A familial estate nearby.”
I grin maliciously and his brows draw up. “Can I watch?”
“Would that make you happy?”
“More than anything. Tell me yes, Kane, please.” I breathe. “I want to make sure he’s dead. I want to see it with my very eyes.”
“Anything, darling. I’ll do anything. You’ll come as my guest.” I feel him grow hard against my stomach, and when he covers his mouth with mine, I let him kiss me however he feels he needs to kiss me to keep up this pretense—until he pathetically comes in his slacks two minutes later—sweat pouring from his temples.
He excuses himself so he can go shower and change.
I regurgitate my stew in the waste bin.
I wake up to a soft tapping on my ankle.
When I open my eyes, I see Raven at the foot of the bed by the bedpost, finger up to her lips, pointing to the bed beside me.
I look over and inaudibly gag when I see Kane’s form beside me.
He must’ve climbed in after I fell asleep.
I check my watch to see I’ve only been asleep for about an hour, and it’s only eleven.
Huh. Maybe having a phone is ruining our circadian rhythm.
She’s frantically motioning to me to follow her. So I follow her through the bathroom to the connecting bedroom.
She faces me and lifts her hands. C’mon, we have work to do.
What are you thinking? I sign back.
She hikes a brow and the corner of her lip lift in a promising smirk. The same thing you are.
I dip my chin. I’ll take downstairs. I check my watch. This would be so much easier if my phone had a signal and I could see what time the sun was rising. I shake the thought away. If we work fast, this entire place could probably be filled with gas by the time the sun rises.
Exactly. Let’s go.
We make very quick work to create a gas leak.
It’s only four hours later when the smell begins to permeate.
Raven hugs me. I have one last thing to do. I’m about to tell her no, but she shakes her head adamantly. I promise, I’ll be okay. You play your part, I’ll play mine. “Go,” she orders.
“Raven.”
“It’ll be okay. Trust… me.”
So I do.
Once I’ve woken Kane and we’re outside, I hear the crash of a window shattering. Goddammit! It’s the only signal I get before I’m on the ground, and the manor that has stood partially vacant and stoic on this barely touched island goes up in black smoke and blue flames.