Story. A different, deadlier breed of trash.
Because you’d never expect anything of a servant, would you, Beryl?
I was so sick of keeping my words in. Of being subservient and silent. And the one time I opened my mouth, I jammed a foot down my throat.
“Oh my God.” I fell back.
“What?” Grayson’s concern was faded into a buzz as adrenaline rushed through my ears.
“Oh no…” I vaguely registered Grayson gripping my elbow. “Oh no, oh no.”
I stared ahead.
Unblinking.
Until Grayson gripped my chin and forced my gaze to his. “Story, take a breath, and tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I confirmed it, didn’t I?” I asked, throat hoarse. “I just wanted to stand up for myself. I had no idea what he was talking about… What ice could she have slipped under? She was under the tree! It’s my fault. It’s all my fault—”
Grayson cut me off with a hug, shoving my face into his chest. “It’s not your fault when a snake bites you.”
I didn’t realize I was hyperventilating, that I was woozy, until they sat me down on a stone bench. I stared into both their eyes as West held one elbow, and Grayson the other.
That was when it hit me: Grayson and West were standing side by side. Was what West said true? They knew the same amount of information, and I was in the dark. What the hell was happening? I shook them both off, standing up, putting space between us.
“What the hell is going on here? Am I gonna end up like Josephine?”
I didn’t get the answer to my questions, because our little bubble popped as the rest of the Crowne and du Lac family flooded the hallway while they made their way to bed.
Grayson watched me with burning eyes as West led me to my tower.
West leaned on my doorframe, watching me. He’d loosened his bow tie, his jacket discarded, as if getting comfortable—in my fucking doorway.
I focused on anything else. Maybe if I ignored him long enough, he’d go away.
All the questions I’d sought from Grayson, the ones clawing my chest, suddenly had answers, and they came in the form of Josephine’s pale face.
I’d only just spoken with her; she’d just saved me from Beryl. Now she’s dead.
Gone.
My dress scraped along the hardwood floors, and anytime I turned, the circumference knocked into something—the wooden posts of my bed, the legs of my vanity.
“Someone died tonight,” West said. “So your girl isn’t coming back. If you want out of your dress, it’s either me, or no one.”
I’d worked long enough to know that nothing stopped a servant from getting to her mistress. Not a blizzard, definitely not a death.
“I choose no one.”
“Turn around.”
“No.”
He gripped my shoulders and spun me to face the black window. I stepped forward and he yanked me back by the shoulder, holding me in place, forcing me to stay.
We reflected in the window as if caught in a lake’s nighttime waters, glossy and spotlit by the moon.
He pulled at the first set of laces, tugging gently. “Have you given thought to my proposition, Angel?”
Sleep in his bed?
It was on my mind. Maybe I didn’t have to choose him, maybe I could just sleep beside him and steal his phone, figure out a way inside.
It would be better than doing nothing.
But I stayed silent.
Another lace was pulled, and my dress loosened further.
Tug. “I won’t force you, Angel. In time, I think you’ll find me the best option.”
I held in a scoff.
Tug, pull, tug, pull.
Until the final lace slipped through his fingers. He didn’t move away, his fingers tracing my bare spine. I ground my teeth.
“You must have questions after tonight,” he said, voice rough.
I was filled with them. But—“You think I’m going to ask you, West?”
I spun around, my dress hung loosely off my shoulders, cleavage bared. His eyes fell to it, but I pressed on. “You think I want answers from you?”
His jaw twerked, eyes flashing to mine. “Why not? I have them.”
“Because I want the truth.”
He stepped forward. “I’ll give it to you—”
I let out an incredulous laugh. “From you? You don’t know how.”
“Well,” he laughed, bitter. “Your truthful knight in shining armor has been keeping a lot of secrets from you. I thought you told each other everything, yet…I proposed this truce a day ago.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted.
After a minute, West kicked off the door. “Get used to the new normal. We’re on the same team now, Angel.”
Twenty-Three
STORY
The problem with Grayson