Thomas was called out to a job the next morning.
He left without a goodbye and had been gone for ten days.
Yet I refused to leave. Not out of fear of what waited beyond the castle’s walls, but because anytime the thought even touched my mind, a searing pain would grip the organ in my chest, stalling my heartbeat and stealing my breath.
I bandaged my bruised feelings, my worries, and my longing by spending time with Lou. But after hours spent indoors and despite the size of their home, she grew bored as summer dragged on.
“Are you allowed outside?” I asked one morning as I helped Murry clean up after breakfast. He’d tried to stop me but gave in days ago when I didn’t relent.
“Of course.” Lou sucked jelly from her fingers, then released them with a loud pop. “Oh! You haven’t met Jeffery, George, and Babette.”
Murry cursed, a plate falling from his hands and into the sink.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Fine,” he said, reaching for a dish towel and drying his hands. “Miss Lou, how about you go grab your hat, and we’ll show Jemma together?”
“Okie dokie.”
I waited until she’d left the room. “I’m sorry, I forgot that—”
“No,” Murry cut in, hanging up the towel and then untying his apron. “That threat is gone, and most wouldn’t dare enter this property. But … I’ll come with you.”
It wasn’t until I saw the three huge pigs in a pen half an acre behind the house that it clicked.
The pancakes Murry made threatened to somersault out of my mouth, but I painted on a smile when Murry raised a brow, realizing his earlier hesitance wasn’t so much about Lou Lou’s safety.
It was about what they used the pigs for.
The pen was huge, and next to it sat a barn that had seen better days. Probably many years ago at that. The wooden doors were half opened, stuck in the dirt-crusted ground, and the white and cream paint was missing from most of the exterior.
Lou tossed the pigs a small bucket of scraps, laughing as they snorted and hobbled over to the fence.
Leaving them to eat, we strolled to the other side of the property, toward the woods that separated Verrone and Clayton land, Lou Lou racing through weeds that were almost taller than she was.
We stopped beside what I thought, when I’d looked out my bedroom window, was a dam, but was actually a neglected pool.
“Why is it,” I asked, a hand over my eyes to shield them from the sun’s glare, “that the inside of the house resembles the period it was built in, not a speck of dust or wear in sight, yet out here …?” I trailed off, knowing Murry would catch what I was saying.
Lou Lou skipped over to a patch of wildflowers.
“To scare people off.”
Murry’s words made sense, but it seemed a shame that a place I once thought of with such reverence in my child-size heart looked as though it’d been abandoned.
We ate lunch together, and then Lou and I retired to the living room upstairs for a Disney movie marathon.
It was just after dinner, and Lou Lou had passed out with her head on my lap when Thomas’s shadow spread over the arched entryway, followed by the man himself.
“Hey.” I tried to tamp down the relief, the persistent burning and longing dancing through my bloodstream by stretching my arms, being careful not to wake Lou.
Thomas paused when he saw she was asleep, then frowned down at the food stuck to her cheeks. “She’s six. She’s allowed to go to bed dirty every once in a while.”
“I can bathe her,” he said, bending to brush some golden curls from her sticky face.
“You’ll do no such thing. I’ll run a washcloth over her face and hands when she’s in bed if that’ll make you happy.”
He finally looked at me then, and dark pillows sat beneath his eyes, making the blue that much more vibrant. “Murry said you went to see the pigs.”
“We did.” I bit my lip. “You know, my dad always said to be wary of a man who owns pigs.”
His eyes were on my mouth. “Your dad’s a smart man.”
“Babette is my favorite.”
His brows furrowed as he studied me. If he was waiting for me to make another remark about his reason for having them, he’d be waiting a while.
When he realized that, he rose to his full towering height and went to leave.
“I missed you,” I blurted.
All the oxygen in the room seemed to disappear as his body locked up.
Then, slowly, he pivoted and strode back, gripped my chin, and tilted my face to his. After staring his fill and finding my eyes reinforced my words, as well as the grip my hand had as it wrapped around his wrist, he pressed his mouth to mine.
After ten blissful seconds, where I felt my heart shrink and heal a fraction more, he took his lips away, and left me with whispered words, “I’m glad you’re still here, Little Dove.”
A little while later, after Lou was tucked in bed with her face and hands clean, much to her dismay as she smacked and whined at me, I went in search of my monster.
The door to his room was open, but he wasn’t in there. Nor was he in the study or the library.
Searching downstairs, I heard voices funneling down the hall from the kitchen.
“It’s not that pipe. Here, get out of the way,” Thomas said.
I watched from the doorway as Murry crawled out from beneath the kitchen sink and grimaced, rising and using the countertop for support.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Something’s blocking the pipe. I have a feeling it’s built-up food, but I can’t get the sucker undone.”
Thomas, who’d changed into jeans, a T-shirt, and his slippers, slid the tool bag closer, already ducking beneath the sink.
Murry looked at his hands, disgusted, and stormed out of the kitchen.
I smothered a laugh and went to sit by Thomas on the black and white floor.
“Hi, Monster.”
“Hi, Dove.”
I smiled. “Where’d you go?”
“Do you really want to know that?”
“I do, actually. I’d also like to know why you didn’t say goodbye to me.”
He took his time answering, and I watched as his shirt lifted higher, exposing the patch of dark hair above his jeans that tempted my fingers to touch. “I had a job in Arizona, but it wasn’t an easy find.”
Nodding, I waited for him to tell me the rest.
“And I didn’t say goodbye because I was behaving like a petulant child who couldn’t seem to get his own way.”
“You weren’t that bad,” I said, drawing out the words.
“Liar,” he teased, and his slipper-covered foot nudged my bare one. “Can I ask you something?”
I nudged him back. “Of course.”
“Your fed, do you miss him too?”
Oh.
“Um. Well, honestly”—his leg muscles looked tense as he waited—“since you kissed me that first time in the library, I’ve hardly thought about him.”
“And you loved him?”
That had my hackles rising. “I did.”
His silence told me he thought otherwise, but I ignored it and asked something I’d been curious about since he’d left. “The first time you kissed me, in my car …”
“He’d bugged your car.”
“Right.” I didn’t know why I was disappointed when I’d suspected as much already.
“But Dove?”
“Hmm?” I stared down at my unpainted toenails.
“I wanted to, so I guess you could say I took advantage. But that second time I kissed you? It was just because I wanted to do it again.”
A smile twitched my lips, and my feet swayed as I got lost among the memories, joining all the pieces that once seemed so puzzling together. “That’s why you said not to call you, right?”
“Right.” A clanking sounded before he said, “I’m curious. What about him lured you into his trap so easily?”
I wanted to argue that, no, it hadn’t been that easy, but I’d be lying. I’d fucked up and trusted too soon. It was as simple and as complicated as that. “Do you really want to know that?”
At hearing his words repeated back to him, a low chuckle reached me. “I do, actually.”
I smiled, but it was quick to fall as I thought of those first few weeks with Milo. “He was just, I don’t know … larger than life. A dream.”
Thomas snorted. The rare act lifted my lips. “You were enamored.”
“Enamored?”
“Yes. Infatuated. Love-struck. Besotted. Enamored.”
I frowned as that truth sank deep. “I should’ve known it was too good to be true.”
“You’re not that insecure.”
“I’m not. It’s just, we were worlds apart from the start. I didn’t question it, just ran right to him. Open. Willing. Foolish.”
Thomas was quiet for a moment, his body still. Then he murmured, “You might’ve been a job, but he didn’t need to agree to it. He would’ve dissected everything about you before he even muttered a word of commitment.” He made a groaning sound, then cursed, another rare act that I relished. “The guy wanted you. It was a win-win in his eyes.”
Raising my knees, I leaned forward, peering around the cupboard door. “Want isn’t the same as love though, is it?”
His arm moved, muscles flexing as he twisted something back into place before carefully slinking out from under the sink. A pile of hair wrapped gunk hit the floor with a splat, followed by a wrench.
He closed the door and leaned back against it, looking at me. “It’s not, but some might say it can lead to it.”
Words formed and dried over my tongue as I watched him stand and take the gunk with him to the trash, then wash his hands.
Kicking the toolbox aside, he stood there a moment, and I could feel his eyes on top of my head, but I didn’t look up. “Can I ask you something?”
In answer, he held out his hand, and I placed mine in it. His warm skin curled around mine as he effortlessly tugged me from the floor. With his hands framing my face, his eyes bouncing between my own, he waited.
“I know you said I can leave.” His lashes lowered, then rose as I said, “I don’t want to. Not yet, but I need to call my dad and my sister.”
After staring at me for the longest time, he pressed his lips to my forehead, then stepped back, collected the wrench and toolbox, and set a phone on the countertop.
I tucked my lips between my teeth to contain my spreading smile and swiped at the tear about to roll down my cheek.
“I got your text. I’m glad the rain let up.”
Puzzled, I was about to ask what he was talking about, then remembered.
My phone. Thomas probably had it.
“How’s Cora?” he continued.
Cora? “Um, good,” I said, pacing the rug in slow strides. Seeing as I didn’t know anyone named Cora, I ditched the subject. “So I know you won’t want to hear this, but …” A smile stretched my face and tinged my voice. “I kind of met someone.”
Dad’s silence made my heart pound and my feet stop moving. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?” He puffed out a rough breath. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”
Peering out the opened door of my bedroom to the bronze lit shadows beyond, I continued to smile. “I think I’ve been ready for him for a long time, but I just needed life to mess everything up first.”
Dad laughed. “And this guy, he’s a friend of Cora’s?”
Walking to the window seat, I moved the curtains aside. The silver moon lined the treetops, and I could picture my dad in the two-story farmhouse on the other side of those trees, drinking his second cup of tea for the night on his recliner in front of the TV.
“No, he’s from home, actually.”
Dad yawned. “Well, I hope to God this one has more manners and respect, that’s all I can say.” He grumbled something about Milo beneath his breath, then sighed. “But you already know …”
“You won’t think any man is good enough.” I laughed. “I know.”
His smile was evident in his voice as he said, “You were always too sweet for the average Joe. When are you coming home?”
Knowing what I knew now, about Mom’s affair, I wanted to run through the woods and squeeze him in a hug. But the need to respect his wishes overruled the urge, no matter how much it hurt.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “But I’ll call you once I figure it out.”
“Make sure you do. And bring this new fella around. I need an excuse to polish my guns again.”
Laughing, I said, “Love you, Daddy. Good night.”
“Good night, Jemmie.”
I hung up, then stared at the screen saver on Thomas’s phone. It was a picture of Lou Lou from earlier this year. She was dressed up as a lion for book week, tiny ears sitting atop a headband on her head, and whiskers painted on her cheeks.
As I tried to remember my sister’s number, I briefly wondered about what kind of things I’d find on the phone in my hand. Shaking my head, I gave it my best guess and pressed the phone to my ear again. He wouldn’t keep anything incriminating anyway.
“Hello?” my sister’s confused voice sounded.
“Hey, it’s me.”
She seemed to be checking the number. “Did you get a new phone?”
I’d called the house phone to speak to Dad, and so he wasn’t able to see where I was calling from. I didn’t think about that with Hope and inwardly kicked myself. “No, it’s charging. I’m staying with a friend, and I’m using hers.”
“You’re staying with a friend.”
“Uh-huh,” I steered the conversation forward. “How are you? How are the boys?”
“Being little turds, but good. What friend are you staying with?”
Shit. “Cora, from school.”
“I don’t remember a Cora.”
Double shit. “She started after you’d already graduated.”
My eyes clenched shut until Hope said, “Okay, then. So what are you guys doing?”
“Uh, shopping and stuff. Mainly just hanging out.”
She guffawed. “Cut the shit, Jemima. You hardly ever speak to your old friends, and you only shop when you need things or books. Where are you, and why lie?”
What to say, what to say, what to say.
I settled on being as honest as possible. “Remember that guy I was telling you about?”
“The weird one?”
I frowned. “He’s not …” I exhaled a loud breath. “Okay, yeah. That one.”
I waited for her to come to her own conclusions, knowing that would be the easiest way to deal with this. “You’ve been with him?”
“Yeah.”
“And you didn’t tell anyone because, why? You felt it was too soon? Or you were scared it’d all blow up again?”
“Kind of, but there’s more.” I licked my lips, dropping to the window seat. “Have you got time for a long-winded story?”
“Let me pour a glass of wine.”
When she was ready, I told her everything. Everything besides Thomas taking me, and what he did for a living.
After she’d gotten over her shock, she asked, “Who was he investigating?”
“I don’t know, he wouldn’t say,” I lied.
“Probably not allowed. Still, what a fucking dick.”
Smiling, I agreed. Then I told her about what happened to Mom, how it’d involved Thomas’s parents, and made her promise not to tell Dad about it.
“Yeah,” she said after taking a moment to digest it all. “Better he doesn’t know that we know. He’s obviously kept it from us, thinking it was for our own good and for his.”
I chewed my thumbnail. “Do you think she would’ve left us?”
Hope mulled that over for a minute. “I’d like to say she wouldn’t, but when you love someone, you do some crazy shit.” She snarked, “Like letting your husband pretend to be in a relationship with another person for a job, or lying to your family to hide away in a castle in the woods for weeks.”
I laughed, relishing in how the reminder of what Milo had done no longer pinched.
“Seriously.” She laughed. “Your life.” Then her voice lowered. “So, is it like, just one giant fuck-fest?”
“He has a daughter, and no, we’ve … been getting to know each other.”
“Oh, that’s right.” She hummed. “A bit strange, that you’re with the son of the man Mom couldn’t have. Kinda kinky.” She swallowed some wine. “I like it.”
“You’re not upset?” I asked with a hint of disbelief.
“Over Mom?” She scoffed. “I was sad for years, but I’m done being sad. And you know what? I’m glad I didn’t know back then. I would’ve been a lot worse of a teenager, that’s for sure.”
“So true.”
“Hey,” she jeered. “Anyway, you can’t skimp on the details. Wait, just send a photo of him.”
“No, you can meet him and see for yourself.” Apprehension over the idea of Thomas and Hope being in the same room made me rush to say, “One day.”
“You’re such a bore. Not even a sneaky dick pic—”
“You’re married,” I hissed.
“What? I can still look.” She snorted. “Not like Jace doesn’t. Marriage doesn’t make you blind, for Christ’s sake.”
I let her ramble on a while longer until the silence outside my room grew thicker, and my mind started drifting to the man in the bedroom at the top of the stairs. Then I said I’d call her in a few days and said goodbye.
Collecting a nightgown and a fresh pair of panties, I traipsed down the hall to the bathroom and showered before arriving at his door with his phone, a bare face, and my nipples beading against the black fabric clinging to my damp body.