Chapter 21 Allegra
ALLEGRA
Cassian doesn’t return that night and I only manage to fall asleep when I can’t keep my eyes open any longer. When I wake up, the sun is coming through the windows, and I see the time is eight in the morning.
We’re to bury Michael today at ten. I get up, walk into the bathroom to at least wash my face and brush my teeth. I’m still in my clothes from the night before, but I don’t care. A glance at my reflection shows that I spent most of the night pacing.
I carry my iPad to the kitchen. I’ve read everything I could find on Huntington’s disease. It sounds terrible, but it doesn’t change what he did and I’m still fuming. I look down at my hand, at the ring there. I should have thrown it at him.
No.
That’s not what I want.
Shit. It would be so much easier if I wanted that.
I take a deep breath in and exhale. What he told me about his brother is terrible and I understand his fear.
I even understand why he did what he did.
But it doesn’t make it right and I can’t set a precedent of letting important things slide.
Thing is, I would have agreed to the shot.
I don’t want to get pregnant anymore than he wants me pregnant.
But the way he went about it was wrong and he knows it.
In the kitchen I make myself a cup of tea. Enzo comes around the corner.
“Is Cassian here?” I ask him.
“No, he’s not back yet.”
“I have to get to my brother’s funeral. I can’t miss that.”
“I’m sure you won’t. Cassian has made all the arrangements.” I haven’t discussed the particulars with him and now I’m wishing I had.
“What did he arrange exactly?” I ask Enzo.
His phone pings with a text. “That I can’t tell you because I don’t know. Excuse me.”
With that he disappears. That’s all. Nothing more. It’s just my brother’s funeral so I guess it’s not a huge priority to him.
I glance at the closed door of Jet’s room, walk over and set my ear to it. I think I hear the shower going, but knock just in case. When there’s no answer, I open the door and peer inside
The bathroom door is closed, but steam seeps into the bedroom from beneath it.
How hot does he shower? I look around, remembering the last time, the one and only time, I was in here.
When he saved me from going half mad in that crypt.
When Cassian didn’t realize what he was triggering in me.
I decide I’ll wait for him to come out of the shower.
If Cassian has forgotten about the funeral, Jet’s my best bet of getting there.
Enzo’s loyal to Cassian. Jet has no issue pissing him off. I think he might even like it.
I chuckle at the idea, then I spot something familiar on Jet’s nightstand. I peer closer. Is that my notebook?
“That jerk.” I cross the room to pick it up.
It’s the one he’d handed me the other day when Cassian caught us together and thought, well, God knows what he thought.
It’s lying face down open to the page of the drawing of Azazel.
I take it and consider looking through the nightstand drawer because what’s a little invasion of privacy between frenemies?
Because Jet and I aren’t quite friends. We’re not quite enemies. I have no idea what we are.
I recall how he gave me away the other night when he knew I hadn’t seen Cassian returning to the table and still let me ask about Seth. Still set it up so I’d come out looking like I was poking around for information, which I guess I was, but well, fuck them both.
My mind wanders to Seth. The thought of what is happening to him is sad not only for Seth, but Vivi and their son and for Cassian.
The shower switches off and I almost leave, but stop myself.
I take a seat in a chair across the room.
A few moments later, the bathroom door opens, and Jet appears in the cloud of steam.
He pauses, clearly surprised, but is extremely good at masking his emotions.
At least masking anything other than amusement because he grins a one-sided grin, his eyes dancing as he drops his gaze to his too-low towel, pretending to adjust it while watching me through those thick black lashes.
I clear my throat because my gaze moves to the towel too. To the trail of dark hair disappearing beneath it.
“Allegra. What a lovely surprise. Cassian know you’re in here?”
“Cassian doesn’t dictate my every move.”
“Doesn’t he though?” he taunts and crosses toward the closet.
“Besides, he’s not here and if he’s not back in time, I need you to take me to Michael’s funeral,” I say, getting to my feet.
“I’m sure he’ll be back in time to take you although I’m not sure why you care considering.” He tries to move around me, but I step in front of him.
“He’s my brother.”
“He betrayed you.”
“That wasn’t—”
“He was weak, Allegra. But it’s none of my business. I’m sure Cassian will be back in time to take you.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I know. You should leave. I need to get dressed.”
“I’m fine here.”
“Suit yourself,” he says, shrugging a shoulder and walking toward the closet. Just before he disappears into it, he drops the towel and gives me a view of his ass.
I gasp.
“Told you to leave,” he says.
A few minutes later, he reappears having pulled on a pair of jeans, a white T-shirt in his hands, but his chest still bare.
“That’s not appropriate for a funeral.”
He checks his watch for effect. “It’s early yet.” He tosses the T-shirt on the bed and looks at me. “You might want to get changed though. Considering your dress is inside out,” he says casually.
“What?” I look down, and he’s right. I was so upset last night I’d put my dress on wrong side out and I didn’t even notice. I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not wearing this.” I stand, walk toward him with the book. “What are you doing with this?”
He looks at it, then at me, and when he turns to walk into the bathroom. I follow him.
“Enjoying your artwork. I told you I liked it. But that’s not why you’re here.”
He combs his hair and sprays deodorant under his arms then turns to me.
I drag my gaze from a mark along his torso to his face. “The brother who did that to you, was he the one from the other night?”
“Alternative would be Cassian, wouldn’t it?”
“Cassian wouldn’t do this.”
“Then why are you asking?”
“I don’t know. I mean, he did that.” I gesture to his temple.
“Cassian fights fair.”
“What are they?”
“Knife, mostly.” I draw in a sharp breath. “It’s years ago. Doesn’t matter anymore, Allegra.”
“Do they still hurt?”
“No.”
He goes to walk past me, but I block him. “He told me.” Jet raises his eyebrows waiting for clarification. “About Seth.”
A beat passes and Jet seems surprised, but then not. “Ah. Well, good for you. Do you mind? If he comes home and finds you in here and me like this, well, I don’t need to tell you he’s going to lose his shit.”
“That’s too bad for him.”
“Yeah, but I’m not going to be your pawn.”
“No, I’m pretty sure I’m the only pawn around here.”
At that he stops, studies me. “What are you doing in here, really?”
“I don’t know.” I walk back into the bedroom. Jet follows me. “Just when I start to trust him, he does something stupid, and it just sends me right back.” I turn to face him.
“And you want to get back at him? With me?”
We study each other. I consider his question.
Is it what I want? Cassian is furious when Jet looks at me.
Touches me. But he’s also right that I liked Jet watching the other night.
But it’s not that I’m attracted to Jet. I’m drawn to him because of Cassian.
There’s something between them that I am not a part of and hell, maybe I’m jealous. I don’t know.
When I reach up to touch him, it’s not a conscious decision.
It’s those scars. He’s been wounded. Brutalized.
He’s been afraid. We have that between us.
We’ve both been made into victims. So when he goes to pull his shirt on over his head, I brush the tips of my fingers over one of those scars and Jet’s intake of breath is audible.
I swallow. The scar tissue beneath is rough.
It healed this way. I look up at him, meeting his eyes which are narrowed, the green the deepest, darkest recesses of a forest. But he doesn’t stop me.
He lets me touch him, lets me trace the scar.
My heart thuds. When I slide my fingers farther, he captures my wrist and for a long moment, we stand like that.
His gaze is intent, sharp as a laser. “Be careful, Allegra,” he whispers darkly. He walks me backward to the wall, presses my arm to it, eyes searching my face, hovering over my lips. “My self-control is not infinite. Don’t think you’ll be safe if you try to use me to get to him.”
“I’m not—”
“Don’t lie to yourself. Don’t lie to me. You told me you wanted me to be like I was that night. Well, like I told you, that’s not a one-way street.”
I look up at him, studying his features. He’s beautiful, without a doubt. But he’s not Cassian.
“All the men in my life have been liars. Have wanted something from me. I don’t want him to be one of them,” I finally say.
“Have you considered telling him that?” he asks.
“I can’t trust him.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. He’s probably one of the very few people you can trust. You should trust. He nearly lost his mind when you were gone. Do you know that?”
“He did?” I ask, trying to ignore the skip of my heart, the fluttering in my belly upon hearing the words as if I were a teenager in love.
“And, if you want my advice,” Jet starts, walking toward the door as he pulls his shirt on. “Tell him,” he says as he pulls the door open. “Because I think most of the people in his life are liars too.”
“Most of the people in whose life are liars?” Cassian asks, hand out as if just about to knock, stopping short when he sees Jet, then me.