Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 73533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“We’ll get to that,” Lucas answers after my uncle shifts his gaze to him almost in deference.
My uncle turns to refill his glass. I watch his back, then shift my gaze back to Lucas. Okay. We’ll get to it. I won’t leave until I know.
“What happened to Annabel? The accident, I mean,” I ask.
Lucas surveys me over his drink as though he’s surprised that’s what I ask. “She and Damian were playing in the solarium. She fell from the gangway and sadly lost the use of her legs after that fall.”
I knew that from what Liam told me. It must have been awful for her. “I heard you say something yesterday. In Damian’s study.”
“I said many things. Which in particular are you curious about?”
“Something about accidents. A lot of them happening around Damian.”
“I don’t think he pushed her, if that’s what you’re getting at. He loved Annabel. But I know he felt guilty afterward. And I know our father blamed him for allowing it to happen. Blamed him for a lot of things.” He sips his drink, looking over my shoulder. “That wasn’t quite fair,” he adds on, surprising me.
“Then why did you say that yesterday? About a lot of accidents happening around him?”
“Did you have your ear to the door?”
“You were loud.”
“I was fucking with him. That’s all, Cristina. And you should be asking different questions. Questions like what’s going to happen to you after your year is up.”
I feel the blood drain from my face.
“Christ,” my uncle mutters. His face is a little flushed, the bulbous tip of his nose red like the last time. I wonder how much he’s already drunk today.
Lucas stands to grab the bottle of whiskey and another tumbler. He pours a glass and hands it to me before resuming his seat.
“Don’t worry, my brother won’t go through with it.”
I sip, shifting my gaze back to his once I’ve swallowed a good mouthful of the burning stuff. Courage. I need to be strong.
“With killing me?” I say, my voice higher than usual.
“Yes.”
“That’s what you intended? All these years?” It’s surreal.
“Not me. My family. Well, my father to be more precise.”
“Why? What would it do? I was a little girl when that accident happened. What would it do?”
He shrugs a shoulder so casually it pisses me off.
“It wouldn’t bring her back, would it? It won’t bring any of them back.” I feel sick. It’s a combination of being back in this house, Lucas and my uncle seemingly in cahoots, this conversation. Hell, it’s this whole situation.
“We don’t need to keep talking about it. You’re obviously uncomfortable.”
“How would anyone be comfortable with this topic? My God, are you even human, Lucas?”
“He won’t do it. That’s all. He has other plans.”
That makes me stop. “What other plans?”
My uncle drinks.
Lucas just studies me.
“What other plans?” I push.
Nothing.
I exhale loudly and weave my fingers into my hair.
“I like it short by the way,” he says.
I get to my feet, exasperated. When I turn to him, he leans back in his seat and puts his feet up on the coffee table as he sips his whiskey.
“You’re pretty. My brother got lucky there, too.”
“Are you for real? Is this a fucking joke to you? Is my life a joke?”
“I was just giving you a compliment. Relax.”
“Relax? When you’re spinning stories and confusing me even more than I already am?”
“I’m not spinning stories. That’s my brother’s area.”
“This was a mistake.” I walk to the door.
“Sit,” he commands, his tone darker. Not joking.
I give him the finger and keep walking, unzipping my purse as I go and hurrying my step when I hear him get to his feet. I reach inside to take out the switchblade and push the button to open it just as he catches my arm.
“Get your hand off me!”
“Cristina!” My uncle’s eyes grow wide.
Lucas looks down at the knife, cocking his head to the side. “Careful with that, sweetheart. It’s sharp. I know. I made it.” He sounds casual. Like me pulling a knife on him is nothing. “Now put that away before you hurt yourself and sit down.”
“I said, let me go.” He doesn’t. I keep the blade pointed at him. “I agreed to get in that car with you because you promised to give me answers. Honest ones. You’re jerking me around, and I don’t like it. We’re finished. This is a waste of time. You want to fuck with me just like your brother does. I don’t know why I thought you’d actually tell me anything. And you.” I turn to my uncle. “I don’t know what you’re doing with him. I’m not even sure I want to know!”
“I’m trying to save you,” he says. “Put that away, Cristina.”
“You’re trying to save me? Or are you trying to save yourself? Tell me something, did you only take me in because they paid you to?”