Chapter 27 Sable
SABLE
There’s no skin against mine, and the bed doesn’t hold any extra warmth.
Was it all a dream? Hadrian, Soren, Liliana calling herself Nina, Lex coming to help me.
It all feels too fantastic to be real. Dread fills me where hope hollowed me out.
My eyes open to the dark room, my heart beats too quickly, and bile sours my stomach.
At any moment, Uncle Carl will twist the knob and come in to announce it’s our wedding day.
I never actually made it out. I squeeze my hand. I’m not holding a shoe anymore.
Rushed voices pull me back to reality, and everything clicks into place with violent force.
Despite my empty hand, the sensation of stabbing through my uncle’s eye and brain echoes in my hand.
I shiver and gag, but now I know I’m not in that bedroom anymore.
My chest burns like hell, but my hand finds the bandages Lex placed.
A shiver of moonlight reveals the outline of the hotel room.
Clean furniture, central air that doesn’t feel stale.
In a flash, the past few hours come back to me.
The high heels. The rescue. The fire. The hours alone with Soren and the haunting suspicions that gave me.
My uncle’s dead face and the weight of his body are deeper ingrained in me than the memory of my own mother’s smile.
Deep in my soul, I know I’m not the only one who’s been through something awful.
It’s written all over Soren’s face, but I don’t have any clue how to get him to let me in when it was nearly impossible the first time around.
Light glows from beneath the door, leading to the connecting room.
Lex laughs sarcastically, and suddenly, my heart calms, pounding gently rather than out of my chest. How can I be comforted by the mere presence of that psycho?
I sit up and stretch, getting reacquainted with the body and limbs of a killer.
Everything hurts, everything reminds me of battle, and it’s impossible not to face what I’ve done.
I only pray that this won’t be every day of the rest of my life when I see his handiwork in the mirror.
Over the armchair, I find the hotel robe, carefully kept there for me.
I slip it on, keeping my sounds of pain as quiet as possible, as every twist and turn burns.
I take a few steadying breaths before marching to the connecting door and trying the knob.
Rather than turning, it stops dead in my hands.
Knuckles hit the wood twice, but they keep on talking.
Sighing in frustration, I try again, and this time, they stop talking.
My mask of confidence that used to fit me so well hangs a little loose at the moment, but it’s better than nothing.
Something changed in the past month, and even before I officially became the second murderer in my family line, I didn’t feel like the same Sable as before.
Now? I can’t even begin to define myself.
By the time Hadrian opens the door, I’m hugging my midsection protectively. I trust them all well enough, but I’ve never felt more exposed in my life, and that’s saying something, given the days after my father took me off that bridge were lows beneath hell.
“What’s going on?” I ask, brushing past him as I go in.
The room is a mirror of the one I left. Everything is the same, but on the opposite side.
Big window, king bed with soft white sheets, and a door leading to the spacious bathroom with big white tiles.
After everything I’ve been through, I wish I could enjoy this luxury a little more, but it feels too temporary to let my guard down.
My fate is still not mine, and every ticking moment leads me back to the start.
No one says a word, and my eyes go from Hadrian to Lex and finally to Soren. The last meets my gaze with a hard stare, nostrils flaring. The tension is thick in the air, impossible to miss, and I know right in my gut that they are in here talking about me.
“So what are you three discussing?” I ask. The aura of guilt rises around the room, and suddenly, our disagreement from yesterday is hot on my mind. My suspicions are confirmed when they shift into place, and silence stretches between us four. I shake my head. “Oh hell, no. I’m not going back.”
Images of my time there flash through my head, filling me with anxiety.
I thought Bellthorn was my last and best choice once, and look how that turned out for me.
Did things not get worse when you left, though?
a snarky little voice in the back of my head asks me.
After everything I’ve been through, I can’t go back there and be the Offering.
I can’t have people calling me a whore and laughing at me after what my uncle carved into my chest.
“I never had a chance to explain why I am for the idea,” Lex asks, taking a step toward me like I’m an animal about to bolt, and he can calm me.
I hold up my hands, absolutely not about to fall for this. “Hadrian already tried to convince me to go back to Bellthorn, and here we are. Not in Bellthorn. I’m not going back.”
“Yeah, but you were hurt and dirty, and bringing you to a hotel made as much sense as anything,” Hadrian says.
“Traitor!” I accuse him, too scared and pissed off to be reasonable.
“I’m not a traitor if I told you from the beginning that I think that’s what’s best,” Hadrian argues.
“Let me give you my perspective,” Lex says, always trying to be the reasonable one.
“Hell must have frozen over if Hadrian is defending Bellthorn,” Soren says.
The guys both shoot him a dirty look. On the other hand, I turn to Soren, ready for a fight.
He looks even more fucked up today than he did yesterday, and just the sight of him makes my heart twinge.
Did he sleep at all? His eyes are so dark it’s hard to see his pupils anyway, but right at the moment, they look all black.
Something about it reminds me of the day I saw him with…
“Oh?” I ask. “And you suddenly know Hadrian so well?” I wanted to fight with him because of how hard he’s working to keep me away. “I thought you hated him.” The tension that built between us in the car yesterday is so thick. I need to smash it, or I’m going to scream.
How can I have spent nearly a whole day with him, and he still has nothing to say to me?
When I left, I never planned to see him again, but in some silly part of me, I hoped that if I ever saw him again, he might change his mind.
He might grovel, at least offer me an explanation unlike last time. I’m certainly not getting that.
“He hated me first,” he says, like it’s an interesting face.
“Hadrian was my best friend for years when we were kids. He hated me before any of the rest of you,” Soren says, his voice low and dragging.
I look between them, seeing their entire relationship in a new light.
This is all news to me. I knew they didn’t like one another, and obviously, there’s drama a mile thick between every one of these guys, but I’m surprised. What other secrets do they have?
The moment I think it, my cheeks heat in embarrassment. What an absurd thought. My affection for them doesn’t mean I know everything about them, and why would I, when I only met them a few months ago? We’ve been fucking like crazy the whole time, which is enough of a distraction.
“Blocked me too to make sure I could never speak to him again,” Soren adds in a conversational tone, like he’s gossiping about people who aren’t here rather than himself and another man in the room.
Hadrian wasn’t even looking at him until the last part.
His chiseled cheeks suddenly redden. He turns to face Soren for the first time.
“I never blocked you,” Hadrian spits like it’s a grave accusation. “You’re going to make shit up now too?”
“Why would I need to make shit up when you blocked me?”
Hadrian steps toward Soren with his fist raised.
Soren looks up at him with defiance and an edge of pain I’d miss if I hadn’t seen it on Orion’s face a time or two.
Soren looks like he’d fall with one swing, and even if that weren’t the case, there isn’t a chance I’m going to let them fight, even if hell has frozen over like Soren suggested.
I throw up my hands to keep them away from each other.
Hadrian pulls up short. I step forward, chest touching his until he finally pays attention to me instead of Soren.
“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Soren says at my back.