Ah, Father Weirdo, right.
“He… took care of them for me.”
“He what?”
“Ezekiel took care of the Serpents for me, but they know what I look like. They know I’m here. So it doesn’t fit that it’s them.” She waited a moment, and then she stormed over to her bed, reaching beneath the mattress and above the box spring to pull something hidden out. A small white card, which she then handed to me. “I got that while I was in the hospital. I’m assuming it’s from Atlas himself.”
“You didn’t tell your father about this? Giselle—”
“My father has shown time and time again that he doesn’t give a shit about me. Why else would he marry me off to Luca Moretti? He knows how horrible I’ve felt these last three years, and he knows exactly why. He’s not stupid.”
I blinked. Three years ago was about when I came into the fold, when I’d proved myself to Miguel. Something else must’ve happened, something before I came around, before I came to know Giselle.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened three years ago, Zander? I doubt my father told you. After all, he wants all of his men to idolize him—or fear him enough to never step out of line.” Giselle let out a sigh, snatching the card from me and tucking it away under her bed, out of sight, once more. “I was part of a business deal with Rocco Moretti. A bargaining chip. Rocco would only do what my father asked if he got a night with me.” She let out a bitter chuckle. “You know, I don’t even know why. I have no idea what I was sold for. I used to spend all my free time wondering what could’ve been so important, but now I know: it doesn’t matter. My father’s just an asshole.”
My mind couldn’t really process what she was telling me. The only thing I could do was stare at her and blink, try to piece it all together in my head. What she’d said, what she’d been forced to do at a mere fifteen years old.
I mean, what the absolute fuck?
“I almost threw myself off a bridge because of what my father made me do,” she spoke, so matter-of-factly about it, whereas I felt like I’d just had the wind knocked out of me. “The only reason I’m here is because of Father Charlie.”
She was close to the priest. The priest was now dead, and she’d killed the ones responsible for that. And now we were here, in Cypress, Miguel vying for the position on the Hand, while Giselle still dealt with the aftermath of her trauma. Of course she was ready to believe Miguel would have her shot, because he’d sold her out for a night with Rocco Moretti—the man who was soon to be her father-in-law.
What kind of sick, twisted fuck was Miguel? All this time, I’d never really known the man. I thought I’d respected him, but then he’d asked me to kill Giselle, and those weren’t even his true colors. He’d been a sick, twisted fuck this entire time, and Giselle had had to live with it all on her own.
No wonder she liked wearing gloves. No wonder she didn’t like people touching her. Fuck.
“Giselle, I had no idea,” I whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me before? I—”
“So, what? You could go feeling sorry for me?” She frowned at me. “I don’t want your pity, Zander. I didn’t tell you this so you would feel sorry for me. I told you because I’m done hiding these secrets, done letting them eat me up inside. I just want to know I can count on you.”
A sigh left me, and I hung my head low, whispering, “Of course you can count on me. You can always count on me.” But could she? I’d fucking shot her. I pulled the trigger, and as much as I claimed it was to save her, I’d still done my part in hurting her.
“If there is one person I trust, it’s you,” she spoke, walking over to me, setting a hand on my arm, fingers tugging at my sleeve. “I want there to be no secrets between us. Not anymore. Deal?”
I nodded, though I didn’t say it out loud. How could I? Telling her the truth right now… I just couldn’t. Again, call me weak. Call me whatever name you wanted. I deserved it.
“Thank you. Now, before we go setting these up,” Giselle paused, bending to pick up the bag of bugs I’d brought, “there is something else you should probably know. A few things, actually. Just so we’re all on the same page.”
More? There was more? Did she… did she know about me and my involvement with her shooting? No, it had to be something else. But as much as I steeled myself, I could never prepare myself for the barrage of truth bombs Giselle let out after that.
“Luca knows everything, too. So does Ezekiel. I’m also meeting with Ezekiel every night at midnight to train in his church, and I’m going alone, whether you like it or not. We… we might’ve done a little more than train last night, though—”
Okay, at that I couldn’t keep quiet. “You fucked Father Weirdo? Giselle, no—”
“He is a little weird, I’ll give you that, but there’s more to him, Zander. So much more. We’re… very similar, he and I. The ones who were supposed to protect us from the world did the opposite, and we both bear the scars of that. I don’t want you to be jealous, either. Just because we were together doesn’t mean you own me now.”
I let out a long, angry, and, yes, jealous breath.
“I need you to say it out loud, Zander.”
“I don’t own you,” I whispered out, biting back the envy in me. “I don’t want to own you. I just want you, Giselle. I’ve always wanted you. No one else.”
She nodded. “Good. And, uh, there’s one more thing, just to clear the air, though I’m sure you already suspect. That man in the Playground I was with? It was Cade Cunningham.”
It was a damned good thing that wasn’t quite news to me, otherwise my head might’ve exploded. This… it was a hell of a lot to learn all at once. “Cade Cunningham. You really didn’t know it was him when you did it?”
“No, I had no idea. Hence the masks, the secret identity part. I didn’t know it was him until Luca threw that party once I got out of the hospital. Cade was there. He brought my gloves back.”
At least Cade didn’t bother me quite like Luca did. Although, the man had gotten between Giselle’s legs, twice, which was more than Luca had done, so… “Please don’t tell me Cade knows everything, too.”
“No, but… but he’s actually not that bad, when he’s not all brooding and quiet.” The way she spoke about him caused another wave of jealousy to rise in my gut; it sounded as if she liked him. Actually, it sounded as if she liked them all: Luca, Father Weirdo, Cade.
Was I among them, or had she just slept with me because she wanted me on her side?
No. Giselle wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t. She wasn’t like her father.
“I don’t want you to hate any of them,” she told me, brown eyes on me, drawing me in just like they always did. “I might need you. I might need all of you on my side. I don’t know what steps my father will take next, but I want to be ready.” She walked over to her boudoir, sliding on her ring and then clasping the necklace to her throat once more. “Now, shall we get those bugs planted before he gets home?”