“All true.” Lucius shook Cal’s hand, but I still didn’t raise my eyes.
“Maybe you finally broke this little filly. Stella, look at me, darling. Let me see those gorgeous green eyes.”
I shook my head.
“Do it.” Cal’s voice was instantly cold.
I raised my head slowly. He peered at me, his watchful eyes studying every inch of me.
“Oh, I don’t know. I think I see some spirit left.” He grinned. “All the more fun for the next trial.”
Vinemont cleared his throat. “About that, Cal. Stella has something she wants to say.”
“And what’s that, little Stella?”
I looked to Vinemont who gave me a small nod. “I want to go back to Sinclair.”
Cal chuckled and glanced to the juncture of my thighs. “Was Lucius too rough on you?”
I dropped my gaze again.
“Do you even want her back, now that she’s all used up, Sinclair?” Cal crossed his arms over his chest.
“Not particularly, but if Lucius has to spend all his time in Cuba fighting off threats from other families, sacrifices must be made.”
“The Eagletons trying to cozy up to the regime again?” Cal asked, his tone conspiratorial.
“Not sure just yet,” Lucius said.
“Well, the Acquisition does get to choose between first and second born.” Cal tapped his chin. “I don’t think we’ve ever had one change hands twice, though. This will set an interesting precedent. But I’ll allow it. Of course, Lucius’ performance at this trial won’t carry much weight in my final determination, but if this is what you want, Sinclair, then it’s fine with me. Just keep it this way, is all I ask. More paperwork for me, you see?” Cal clapped his hands, signaling an end to the conversation.
Vinemont helped me hobble away.
Cal’s voice called out behind us. “You better perform the best at the next two, Sinclair, or you may be in for some trouble.”
Vinemont stiffened but kept moving. “Got it, Cal.”
The open air enveloped us, and I was finally able to breathe. Vinemont gave up trying to help me along and swung me up in his arms as he took the stairs down.
Luke held the back passenger door open and Vinemont placed me inside before joining me.
Lucius leaned over in the window. “I’ve got a ride with, um, Amanda over there. I’ll catch you two later.”
The woman we’d met on the way in the day before stood next to a sports car, watching Lucius like a lion eyeing a gazelle. And I sincerely doubted her name was Amanda.
Lucius didn’t look at me, just gave a sarcastic salute to Vinemont before straightening.
“Don’t stay gone too long,” Vinemont said. “We’ve got business.”
‘Fuck off.” Lucius strode away toward ‘his ride’.
“Dick.” Vinemont shook his head with a slight smile. “Luke, take us home.”
“Yes sir.” Luke pulled around the circular drive and followed the line of cars down the lane.
I yawned, fatigue still so deep in my bones that I wondered if I would ever feel at full energy again. I rested my head against the window, the coolness giving my chapped skin the slightest relief before the glass warmed. The trees hurried by, along with the now too familiar hollows and boulders. I hoped I’d never see these woods again.
I sat up and leaned my head back, not wanting to see anymore. The dark material of the car’s roof was a much more palatable view. I closed my eyes, but opened them again immediately. Brianne’s frightened face, streaked with dirt and scratched by branches, had appeared. I couldn’t think about her, about Gavin. Not yet.
Vinemont shifted. I let my head loll sideways toward him. He’d stripped off his long wool overcoat. “Come here.” Before I could move, he’d put one hand at my back, the other at my knees, and pulled me into him, laying me down so my head rested in his lap.
“What are you doing?”
He gazed down at me, his dark hair shading his forehead. It was longer than I’d ever seen it. And I knew it was soft, perhaps even softer than mine. He seemed older now. Or maybe I was the one who’d aged in the months since we’d met. He draped his coat over me, and I slid my feet toward the door. I wasn’t going to fight it. I didn’t have the strength.
One of his hands rested lightly on my waist, and the other trailed through my hair. “Sleep. I’ve got you. I know you’re drained.”
“I’m scared.” I hated myself the moment I said it. Admitting things like that to him was like laying my neck bare and handing him a blade.
“I know.” His fingers started at my scalp and smoothed another long lock of hair. He glanced up as we finally left the drive and entered the main road, his soft v-neck sweater falling right below his collarbones. His strong chin and jaw, along with the darker shadow on his cheeks, threw him in sharp relief. He was so beautiful. I moved my arm from under his coat and reached up, tracing my fingertips down his jaw and neck, feeling every little bit of stubble, every piece of sinew, every strong pulse of his blood.