Wicked Truths (Hunt Legacy Duology #2) - Jodi Ellen Malpas Page 0,143

to find him.

He clenches his teeth, keeping the gem held out to me. ‘Abra-fucking-cadabra, princess.’

An unexpected tear trickles down my cheek, catching me off guard, and I rush to wipe it away, annoyed for allowing my emotions to get the better of me. I’m crying. I don’t know why I’m crying. My mind is a big fat muddle of I-don’t-know-whats. I stand before the love of my life, a stolen priceless gem resting neatly in his palm, and stare. I just stare at it, my ability to do anything else abandoning me. He’s a thief, too? Is this one revelation too far?

‘Brent didn’t steal the O’Keeffe, did he?’ I ask, facing him.

He shakes his head.

I need to breathe. I need air. Forcing my sensibility to take over, I make to escape, needing space to process it all.

‘Eleanor,’ Becker calls, reaching to grab my arm.

I dodge his hand and skirt past him, making a beeline for the door. I can’t let him touch me. ‘Just leave me.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘To think.’ I’m honest. I need to think really really hard.

‘Wait.’ He catches me as I reach the door, holding my hand on the handle. The inevitable happens. My body answers to him, lighting up, but my mind is fervently telling me to control it. To be sensible. To be wise and smart and vigilant. Just one of those things will do!

‘I need you to give me some space.’ I spell it out, forcing stability into my tone when all I want to do is crumble to the floor. I can’t show my weakness. The lights going out at Countryscape was part of his plan. But Brent trying to abduct me wasn’t.

This is why I’m better off alone.

‘I’m in love with you, Eleanor,’ he vows tightly, reluctantly releasing my hand. He says nothing more, because he doesn’t need to. Those words aren’t that complicated. They’re simple, albeit smothered by complexity.

‘I know you do,’ I say quietly. ‘But you can’t seem to stop yourself from hiding your wicked truths from me.’ I breathe strength into my dying legs and open the door, walking away from him. I follow my feet down the corridor, up the stone steps, until I find myself in his room, overlooking the Grand Hall.

And there I stand forever, staring down at the impressive space, being reminded of so many things. It’s all flooding into my mind – the first time I was here, the time I scaled the furniture, where Becker proposed, the endless times I’ve weaved through the treasure. I stare at the giant emerald decorating my finger. It doesn’t seem so big now. Then the revelations charge forward. Becker the deceiver. Becker the liar. Becker the conman. Becker the intruder. Becker the forger. Becker the thief. It’s all so very far-fetched. But it’s all so very true. I feel like I’ve been served the biggest dose of reality, and all I have to do is swallow it. Accept it. Becker the thief is just one more sinful thing to add to his list of sinful things. My sinful Saint Becker. The man I can’t help but love.

Reaching up to my head, I rest the pads of my fingers on my forehead, perplexed by the fading ache. I’m suddenly calm. I’m suddenly thinking straight. I have no rose-tinted glasses on, and I’m not naïve. I’m sound-minded and resolute, and I’m asking myself the question Becker asked me one time – the time I discovered his secret room and the fact that he was quite a nifty sculptor.

Do I love him any less?

No. The answer is no.

And now I’m questioning if there is anything Becker Hunt can do that will be one step too far. I’ve requested space, a moment to think, but I’m under no illusion that I’ll be going anywhere after I’ve thought. I’m simply trying to wrap my mind around another smack to my ethics from left field.

If I have any ethics left. I’m as depraved as Becker is. He’s corrupted me in the worst way . . . and in the best way, too.

I turn blindly and walk towards one of the couches, settling on the edge. I stare across the room to the glass wall. I’m truly frightened by how much I love him and what I would do for him. I’ve known all along that I’m in deep. But right now, deep seems to be bottomless. Becker’s world is my world now. I should disregard the peace that engulfs me. I should try