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“Banks,” I said, and turned around slowly.

She stopped and paused, standing there but not turning around. She didn’t want to deal with me, and she wasn’t going to have to. I was her big brother. I took care of her, not the other way around.

“I’ll catch up,” she finally told Alex.

Alex shot me a look, and I cocked an eyebrow, reminding her that she really didn’t like me upset.

Her lips formed a tight line and she nodded at Banks, leaving the auditorium.

Banks turned around, but she still wouldn’t look at me.

We were only a few feet from each other, but all of a sudden, it felt like miles.

I’d nearly killed my friend.

I’d destroyed Kai’s business.

I’d threatened her, had her guarded, and kept her practically caged.

I was sorry for some things, not for others.

I swallowed. “The way…the way I was with you…” I started, “I—”

“You raised me,” she said, raising her eyes. “And who knows what would’ve happened to me if I’d stayed with my mother.”

I waited for her to continue, not sure if she was just trying to make me feel better or if she really thought her life with me was worth it all.

“I like who I

am,” she told me. “I don’t hate you for anything.”

And despite my slow, steady breaths and unwavering gaze on her, a little relief started to seep through my bones.

I watched her leave the auditorium, looking a little less unsure than when I walked in.

She didn’t trust me, and she might not choose me.

But she was still with me. Even just a bit.

That was something.

I arrived back at the Ashby house—technically now my house—just after six and fucking starving. I had barely eaten all day, and even though I’d rather wait until late to come in, so I’d have to deal with Arion as little as possible, I wanted to see her. I wanted Winter at my dinner table tonight.

“Hello, sir,” Crane said, opening the door for me.

I walked into the house, hearing the driver pull off behind me, and charged immediately up the stairs as the wind outside whistled through the old wood and any cracks in window panes it had found.

But there was no music or footsteps, and the upstairs was dark.

I stopped, slipping my hand into my suit pocket.

“Is anyone home?” I peered over my shoulder down to Crane.

He cleared his throat. “Mrs. Ashby and Mrs. Torrance are on their way back from the city—shopping,” he clarified. “They’ll be here in time for dinner.”

Mrs. Torrance. Jesus, fuck you.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, letting out a breath and waiting.


Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance