Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 199879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 999(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 999(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
Did she expect me to be runway ready for her? “I’d rather be in bed.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“We’ll make this quick.” She assures me and turns her back walking back down the hall where she came from.
I follow her slowly, not liking the way she said we as in I won’t be alone with her. Maybe Saint is with her? He has to be here somewhere, right? The sound of her heels clapping on the concrete floor echoes off the walls as she sways her hips back and forth in her tight pencil skirt. She’s got a silk blouse on that’s tucked into it. Her hair is up and in a tight, perfected bun. I wonder if she comes here often? I know she’s friends with my mother, but I don’t remember her ever being close to my father. So why would she be here at Carnage?
She comes to a stop in front of a room, and I stumble over my feet when I see it’s the observation room. The same one I stood in when I watched the Lord drop off his wife to be sentenced to a long life of torture. Also, the room that their fathers watched me get branded from.
“Come on in, hun. It’s okay.” She smiles at me.
“Why are we here?” I take a step back. “Why are you here?”
She frowns, tilting her head to the side. “I’m here for you, Ashtyn. I know the past few days have been…difficult, and I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.” I go to turn around and head back to Saint’s room, but I stop when I see his dad standing at the opposite end. Swallowing, I try to slow my racing heart and not panic. I don’t know what they’ll do to me without Saint. I should have never left his room. But I didn’t really have a choice either.
“If you’re going to stay here, you’ll have one session a week,” he informs me. “It’s part of Saint’s and my…understanding.”
I don’t know what he means or why my mental health would matter to him. They don’t want you levelheaded here. Maybe that’s the plan, to make me think I’m going insane. The Lords are masters at manipulation. But I don’t want to make Saint mad. He’s the only one really on my side. The one who has taken care of me even if it’s in his own twisted way. It could be much worse. “Yes, sir,” I say, and he nods, turning his back and walking off.
Doing so myself, I turn back and enter the room. The first thing I notice is the two-way mirror. I’m unable to see through it because it looks to be blacked out somehow. Like they’re hiding what’s on the other side of it. The second thing is there is a metal table in the center. A chair on either side facing one another.
“Have a seat, Ashtyn.” She offers me a chair with my back to the glass and sits across from me.
I fold my hands on the cold table and shiver, wishing I had grabbed one of Saint’s hoodies out of his closet before coming down here. “Do you know?” I ask her vaguely, seeing if she needs an explanation.
“I do.” She nods.
A silence lingers in the room at her acknowledging my mother has been killed. She doesn’t even bother with giving me her condolences. Instead, she asks her own question. “Which Spade brother are you the closest with?”
I frown. What kind of question is that? “Why?”
“I’m just curious.”
“I’m Saint’s chosen.” She knows this. She and my mother were so worried about me not bleeding at the vow ceremony.
“Yes but they all three fuck you, no?”
I stiffen in my chair. My pulse thrums in my neck. “A Lord is allowed to share his chosen with whoever he wants,” I add softly. Everyone knows this. It’s not a secret. It’s another way for the Lords to throw their power around. But I actually love Haidyn and Kashton. They’ll always hold a special place in my heart.
“Are you being cautious?”
My frown deepens. Why the fuck does she care about this shit? But her question has me thinking…I haven’t been on birth control since I’ve been here.
“I doubt Saint would be happy if one of the others knocks you up.” She goes on.
“Oh, no that wouldn’t happen.” I shake my head.
She tilts her to the side. “And why is that?”
“They…” I trail off not wanting to finish that sentence.
“I see.” She writes something down in her notebook. “They don’t fuck you vaginally.”
Why does that sound more vulgar than anything Saint has ever said to me? I bow my head, refusing to say anything to that and avoid eye contact. If my mother knew what I allowed the Spade brothers to do to me she’d be so ashamed.