Chapter 32
32
C lara looks equally exhausted. We each bend over our sinks with washcloths, yawning. I don’t think I’ve ever washed my face that fast in my life, and she says only a few words other than “goodnight” to me before shutting her door firmly. The gas fire is still on, my small room something out of a historical novel. It has so much more charm than generic American hotels.
And this… this will be my life if I’m inducted into All Saints. Glamorous parties until the wee hours of the morning at Irish estates. Handsome, mysterious men in tuxedoes. A free pass to achieve my dreams. To make life better for other people. This is the first time I let it sink in that those things could absolutely be reality for future me. I met with someone in the Prime Minister’s cabinet today for God’s sake. What started out as surreal promises suddenly feels all too real. They’ve done a good job upping the stakes for this final test.
On the flip side, tomorrow could bring me…the end. The end of Oxford. I have enough for maybe one more term, but after that, there’s no way for my family to afford anything other than community college back home. I’ll…what? Get a job as a barista at Starbucks so that I have health insurance? Go to school part time?
The thing is, I believe in myself. I know I can still make a difference and achieve what I want to achieve, but now that I’ve discovered this magical shortcut? This pathway lined with diamonds and starlight, and yes…goons who abduct me and men who duct tape me into dresses? I will always resent the extra years I could have saved myself. Years before being able to affect genuine change on the national and international levels. All the years I will be less effective, fighting for the right for normal people to exist. Fighting misogyny and apathy and nepotism. Fighting to get a foothold in the world instead of walking into a powerful position.
I am not oblivious to the irony. I’m banking on a diamond and darkness-littered path to boost my true ambition to help the average and down-trodden. People with no access to the path. And so help me, something in my blood sings here. I feel called to play this game, to show the world that a little girl from Denver Colorado can be special .
There’s a distant knocking, and I turn, looking at the door. It didn’t sound like it came from the door. Maybe someone further away, like at Clara’s door? What if it’s Augustine? Or that Beatrice girl? The knocking comes again, and I cross the door, pulling it open. Dark hallway greets my eyes. No one.
I close and firmly lock the door, then go back to the mirror and start pulling pins out of my hair. My tiredness is making me paranoid.
A noise behind me causes me to jump and spin. My water bottle is in my hand in an instant, the only quasi-weapon I can find on short notice, as I turn toward the fireplace.
Someone is in my room. Someone who didn’t use the very much locked door. Without thinking, I wind up and chuck the metal bottle. Even if it’s a ghost, maybe I’ll distract it long enough to make a run for it.
Not a ghost. The water bottle makes a metallic thud as it bounces off my would-be attacker.
“Jesus, Helena! It’s just me.”
I pause mid-flight. It’s Kendall. He’s standing in front of a door. A door that had not been there a moment ago. I gape at the paneling hanging open beside the still-crackling fire. “Is that a door in my fireplace?”
“Yes. I wanted to come see if it was locked,” he says as he steps further into my room and swings the door shut behind him. It’s unnervingly silent for a house that is supposed to be a million years old. “It’s not.”
“Clearly,” I say, holding my hand to my heart. It’s still racing. “Well, shit.”
“We’ll lock it from this side, then I’ll leave through the door and you lock that behind me too.”
“That’s some Scooby Doo level stuff,” I say uneasily as I eye the paneling.
“After all the stuff I told you about how the organization runs, you’re surprised that there’s a secret passage to a bedroom?” He raises his eyebrow before handing me back my water bottle.
“Jesus. We have to go warn Clara.” I make for the door, but his hand comes out and grabs my arm.
“It’s not every bedroom. Hers doesn’t have one. I asked my father. When he said the old servant’s stairs led to this room, I decided to make sure it was locked. Just…in case.”
“In case…”
“In case.” He’s firm. That’s all the answer I’m going to get.
Now I wish the water bottle had something stronger in it. This whole thing is so bizarre and convoluted. Of course my bedroom is the one with a secret passage. Why wouldn’t it be?
Kendall turns and feels along the top and bottom of the panel. He straightens and shows me a small brass piece on a pin that comes down to sit across the top of the panel seam. It’s a lock of sorts, like the kind you’d find on crude cabinetry. At the very least, it would rattle if someone tried to push it open. My shoulders relax.
He looks at me for a long moment and then nods and heads toward the door.
I sigh. I’m too tired for games. “Well, anyhow, thanks. I’m surprised you even bothered.”
Kendall pauses at my door, hand outstretched for the knob. “What do you mean?”
“You couldn’t even look at me tonight. I’m surprised you bothered to come and make sure I wasn’t murdered, or whatever. Wouldn’t that just make it easier for you to win?”
He pauses, digesting. “I wasn’t ignoring you tonight.”
I grit my teeth, my anger spiking. “You’re a terrible liar, Kendall.”
I can tell by the way his shoulders stiffen that I’ve stoked his ire too. “I was under strict instruction to leave you alone tonight, and so I did. Not like you weren’t…distracted…tonight as well. You and Teague certainly looked cozy.”
I scoff, and I decide I have to head this off before I say something I’ll regret. “Never mind, Kendall. I’m tired. Goodnight.”
In two strides, he’s near my door and I can feel the anger rolling off of him.He turns and the look he gives me is searing. “I didn’t ignore you. I can never ignore you. I know where you are every second of every day, and I never get a moment’s peace from you in my head. I can’t let my father see…can’t let him guess…”
I roll my eyes again. More of these games.
“I did what I had to do for my plan. And to do that, I have to follow orders and I have to get a bid. I need to ensure…”
My hackles rise. “Ensure what? That you beat me? For this mysterious secret plan of yours.” I wave my hands around like a ghost. “You claim you care about me only when it’s convenient, I’ve noticed. Kendall, I swear to God, you run hot and cold faster than my shower at home. I’m tired. Goodnight.”
“That’s not?—”
With a vengeance, I pull the clip out of my hair and slam it down onto the desk. I ruthlessly yank my hair free and it tumbles down. “I said goodnight.”
“Helena.” He comes back to stand at my desk, and stares as I resolutely watch my reflection and rip a brush through the strands of my hair. “This is almost over. I am telling you the truth. My father suspects I care for you. I have to keep him from using you as leverage.”
I slam the brush down and spin to face Kendall. This is familiar. The anger and the awareness buzzing through my body. But I meant what I said. I’m tired . “Leverage for what, Kendall. You keep saying that I’m here as leverage, but you know what I found out tonight? I found out that any legacy applicant gets an automatic pass on all the tests. That I didn’t need to apply, that I didn’t need you or your father, or any of the stuff that you’ve done to me. I could have been like Beatrice and just marched in here, waving around my grandfather’s name, and they would have given me a goddamned tiara. And you kept it from me and made me go through hell. So I will ask again: what leverage, Kendall? What power could I have over you or your father since you seem to hold all the goddamned cards?”
The color drains from his face. I know I’ve hit the bullseye. His eyes dart between mine, all traces of arrogance gone. “Your grandfather wanted you clear of All Saints. You never would have known about it unless my father sent you that scholarship. The plan was one year, two at the most, and then to come find you.” His gaze darts between my eyes. “I’m also a legacy, Helena. And I need a sponsor because I need to replace my father as head of this organization. Once I’m in charge, I’m going to end it. Expose the members and what they’ve been bidding on to gain favors. It’s dangerous, and I need to be ruthless. I can’t have someone I care about involved…your future would be in jeopardy. You don’t know what they do to people who don’t play along. They ruin them. Your grandfather knows exactly what happens to people who try to speak up for what is right. I don’t care if my name gets ruined in the process, but I do mind if they take away your brilliant future.”
I’m stunned. “They won’t let you do that.”
“Not if they know what I’m doing, no. My father suspects I’m not…happy. He thinks that by keeping you in the organization, that I’ll play nice. So I don’t ruin you too.”
Something in my stomach drops. “And would you?” What Kendall proposes is…damning. If it gets out to mainstream media that people are buying favors to get big jobs in world government? Or making contracts to trade sex for money with the world’s elite? It would be an atomic bombshell for those connected to the story.
His eyes come to mine, silvery in the moonlight. I see the truth there. “Some things are bigger than one person. I’m doing my best to shield you from this, have done my best to make my father believe I have no interest in you, so he’ll let you go home.”
I just stare at him. He’d ruin me—ruin himself—to stop this organization. This is no high school tormentor. This is real world, life or death stakes.
“What if they hurt you?” Suddenly, picturing Kendall crumpled and bleeding on a floor seems intolerable. The story about the woman jumping from the roof of Somerville College flashes through my mind.
That question more than anything seems to turn the tides of his anger. Instead, something else sparks in his eyes. His lips quirk. “Worried about my body, but not my reputation?” He reaches out, removing the bobby pins in my hand and placing them on the desk. It’s so startling, I let him. “You are so good. I am trying to keep you that way ,” he says as he steps closer. It’s like he can’t help himself. “I know I’ve done this all wrong.”
“Done…done what all wrong?” I swallow. My anger has blown itself out. This quiet, still power he has is magnetic. He’s watching me intently, like he’s memorizing my eyes and my lips.
“Let me show you what it would be like,” he says, leaning in. It’s that soft, real side of Kendall that no one else gets to see.
“What it would be like to what?” My words are breathy. I’m having trouble taking in air. I don’t understand the charge, the sheer intent of him. It’s different from that vision of Teague and me in the window glass. That was ephemeral, a specter of the future. What could be. This is messy and raw, present right now and grounding in a way that seems inevitable. Like I’m coming home after a long trip away.
“What it would be like to be with me.”
The words cause my heart to stutter. He says it so simply. Like it ’s a foregone conclusion that I’ll agree once he explains. I start to voice an argument, to tell him why that’s a terrible idea. That he’s arrogant, and self-centered, and a bully.
But he reaches his hand out and presses a finger to my lips. “I told you I’d gone about this the wrong way. I thought I could just, I don’t know.” he runs his hands through his hair before reaching out for me again. This time his fingers go to my hair and he gently pulls out more pins. “I thought I could come here for a year, do what needed to be done, and then somehow miraculously find you and ask you to start over. Like we’d just met in that closet. Let you get to know the real me. Be together like a normal couple. In front of everyone, without having to hide my feelings.”
The rest of my hair cascades down my back. He leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead before gently turning me around to face the desk.
What is going on right now? I turn unprotesting as he runs his hands down the slinky black dress, then settles his hands at the zipper and pulls. “But you’ve been right. You’ve always been right,” he continues. “I have been a prick. When I should have just shown you what is possible. What I want . And you’re right about your dreams, and how unfair it is to ask you to leave Oxford. And so, I have a compromise to suggest.”
The zipper reaches its bottom, and he reaches up, slipping each little spaghetti strap off each shoulder before turning me back around. I protest, but he leans in and places a kiss right where my neck meets my shoulder. One small one on each side, and it’s enough to steal my words. Kendall is being…gentle. Caring.
“Let me take care of you,” he says. “You are so gorgeous. I have never met anyone whose skin intoxicates me.” He pauses, reaching out a finger. Toying with it, he pushes the straps down. My arms are now the only thing keeping my dress up.
This is bananas. I should not be thinking about dropping my dress in front of Kendall. I should not. And yet as he runs his finger just under the neckline, I let it inch down. His eyes have blown wide, and his chest rises and falls like he’s run a marathon. “So, so beautiful,” he murmurs, eyes on my collarbone again.
And I lose my mind, and let the dress fall to the floor with a whisper of silken material. My hands are the only things between my bare chest and a fully dressed Kendall. He sucks in a breath. Gooseflesh erupts over my body. I expect him to pull me to him, but he just studies my form, then yanks his eyes back up to mine. Without breaking my gaze, he reaches behind me. “You’re cold.”
He pulls something off the back of my chair—my robe from earlier—and tenderly tucks it over my shoulders. I slide my arms in, brows furrowed in confusion. I thought that this was going in another direction.
Once I’ve looped my belt, he steers me to the chair where I plop down as if I’m a puppet. “Helena, I want you to move in with me.”
At his words, I splutter. Then stutter. Then stare at him in the mirror. He’s insane . I cannot even form coherent words.
“Listen. If you quit All Saints. If you’re…if you’re free of them. You can stay at Oxford. I’ll help you. I’ll pay what you can’t. My contract will be enough for both of us. I’ll probably have some money left even after everything goes to shit.”
“Kendall, I can’t live with you.” I meet his gaze in the mirror. “Did you hit your head tonight?”
He starts to run his fingers through my hair, letting the silky mass pass through his fingers. I can’t deny it feels good, and soon I close my eyes. At least if Kendall hit his head, he’s able to give a damn fine scalp massage. “You could come home, and there would be someone there. We could study together. No one else understands what we’ve been through. I’d be able to keep you safe, to keep you good and kind, and untouched. My father couldn’t get to you. We could…”
“Kill each other,” I manage. Goddamn him and his magic fingers.
He chuckles, then pulls me to my feet. “I told you to let me show you I mean what I say. We wouldn’t kill each other, not if we could just be…us. Us without this stupid game that we’re being forced to play right now. We could be together. We could eat, and study, and play, and…” his gaze drops to my lips, “every day when I came home I could do what I’ve wanted to do since the day I met you.”
His kiss isn’t angry, it’s reverent. It’s sweet. And I don’t stop him. He leans down and draws my own lips in, long and lingering. “I would do that every day, just to say hello.”
I’m having a hard time staying on my feet. I sway toward him. He pushes me back, and I realize he’s steering me into the bathroom. “And, when we’d finished doing…whatever we’d like to say hello? I could have you alone in the privacy of our own place to do whatever else we wanted. Whenever we wanted. What do you think about that?”
“I think you’ve lost your fucking mind, or all this abstinence is getting to you. You’re so horny you’ve lost control,” I say with a laugh.
He grips my chin and raises my face. “You have a dirty, pretty mouth. I have dreamed about that dirty mouth all over me.”
I think I try to make words, but everything comes out garbled. “We’re not allowed to,” I finally manage.
“Do you want me to stop?” His eyes hold mine, and it’s like the bottom falls out of my stomach, molten lava flowing to my toes.
“N…no,” I say before he leans in again and kisses me sweetly.
“Good. I don’t want to.” He lets go of me and steps away.
I protest, but he’s across the room, and locking the door to Clara’s side before I even know what’s happening. The room is dim. I can only see his outline. Then he’s back in front of me, running his hands over my skin and waist before pulling me to him and giving me another searing kiss. I’m putty in his hands, useless against the methods he’s using to ply me. My body has given up, lost in the haze of unfiltered Kendall. Sweet and genuine Kendall. A Kendall who wants to live with me, play house with me. A Kendall that wants to do more with me than just make out against library shelves. But…can I actually flip all of this around in my head and see Kendall as the good guy? As someone to build a real future with?
A misunderstood man, manipulated by his father and family expectations, who hid his love for me behind coldness and bullying? A man who is, if he’s to be believed, trying to do the right thing at great personal risk. He says he wants to protect me. To give me the opportunity to stay at Oxford. To have a home here, to have a life together—one where he’ll support my dreams and we’ll have the means to support them? It’s an unbelievably large amount of stuff to unpack in such short order, especially when his hands have found their way to the gap in my robe, and I want to just yank it open to assuage the ache in my chest.
“Help me to be the person I want to be. Say yes, Helena.” He’s worshipping the side of my neck, and I can feel the fever heat of his skin through my robe. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Every morning. Every night. It’s worse now that we’re here, now that I know what it feels like to kiss you. I want to be around you. I want you in my spaces, in my life. In my bed.” He pulls back, making sure I see that he’s completely serious. “I thought I could forget you. Move past it. But you are ever-present. Here. In my mind. Your smell, your laugh, you are everywhere . And I am so tired of fighting it. So stay in England, Helena. Stay with me, give me something outside of this godforsaken organization to fight for.”
And that molten lava races up from my toes, twining around my heart and my mind because somehow…I believe him. I feel this love that he’s telling me he feels. I feel honored, and special, and seen, and wanted. He’s barely keeping himself in check…I drive him to the edge of reason. And that knowledge, that surety, is the undoing of any logical thought I could apply. The want to swim in the ocean of unbridled feelings is a siren’s call, and I let my body take over. I surrender to this feeling that Kendall has offered me a way to have it all—him and Oxford and my dreams, all packaged into a tall man with blonde hair that I want to sink my hands into, who undoes me physically. I can picture myself in a stylish flat on Oxford’s sprawling campus, a movie night curled up against this Kendall. A movie night that leads to bedtime with zero pajamas. A real, adult relationship. A foundation for a future. “This is insane,” I murmur as he pulls back again.
“Is that a yes, Helena?”
“It’s a maybe. Now, kiss me again before I change my mind,” I growl at him. He doesn’t hesitate. I moan against him, and his hands slide into my robe. I gasp as his hands run up and down my skin, reveling in the contact. Reveling in the fact that for the first time, I welcome it.
“We have to be quiet,” he murmurs against my mouth. “Or we need something to drown out my perfect girl.” He reaches behind me, and I hear the shower door and then the hiss of water.
I look up at him with wide eyes. I’ve never done anything like this before, and the newness seems a little scary.
He pauses, hands rubbing my hips under my robe. “Is this okay?”
I blink, picturing warm water coursing down on us. Kendall as naked as me. Darkness cocooning us. It feels both right and completely taboo. It is taboo, it’s absolutely against my contract. And his.
“Let me be the one to do this. Give me this at least. Don’t let it be someone else who touches you first, Helena.” His hands are slow but relentless, pushing my panties down my body, threading through my hair. Steam billows out in the nearly pitch black room, misting only in the amber glow from the twin highlights set to dim on each vanity. His hands, his body, his mouth, they all say “mine” with every touch and kiss.
And I’m not holding back. This tender, vulnerable Kendall? He is my kryptonite. His mouth gives me life. His kisses innervate my limbs. Slow, delicious heat spreads in my core as he shucks off his own clothes and pulls me into the shower with him.
I’ve never…I’ve never done anything like this. I’ve never been this bold with anyone. Kendall is a massive wall of wet skin, hot to the touch, feverish even under the pouring water. The darkness makes me bold, and I reach out, running my hand over his chest. He freezes, letting me feel the expanse of his muscle.
“You can touch me too. I want it to be you,” He whispers, dropping his forehead to mine.
Then, more hesitantly, I slide my hand down to the hard length of him that protrudes between us. My heart pounds in my throat. Feeling what I do to him—the first real person who I’ve driven crazy—feels surreal. Exciting. Intoxicating.
He hisses through his teeth, briefly grasping my hand. He takes our combined grip and runs it down his hard length once before bringing our joined hands to his mouth and kissing my knuckles. He reaches for me, pulling me close. “This isn’t about me,” he whispers in my ear. “I’m supposed to be the one doing the convincing.”