Page 101 of A Dead Man's B-Side
Paris brought the blood of one of her father’s suitors.
“It’s sad, isn’t it?” I whispered.
She hummed and threw herself over my slumped body, sliding in next to me with a groan, her uniform, heels, and all.
“So.” She dragged out the vowel. “What’s got you sad?” She asked again.
The word almost sounded strange, unknown and unfamiliar with its worn-out use.
I looked at her. Really looked at her.
Her relaxed muscles and open, empathetic features.
“I’m almost out of cigarettes.”
It was an anticipatory silence as she stared into my eyes the way only she seemed to be able to, and for a moment, I figured she’d call me out on my lies. Instead, she laughed.
She threw her head back against my pillow and barked out a loud laugh that was sure to sound through the walls. And that was that.
She didn’t question me after that, only lifting herself over me again to stand and poking around my dorm to her heart’s content. Not that there was anything of sentiment.
I didn’t move from under the nest of blankets, really only the one I’d been provided with, I surrounded myself in.
Not until she spoke again.
“I think Wolf is going through withdrawal.”
I furrowed my brows and followed her eyes. Silently, we watched the shadows of footsteps pace in front of my door from under the crack.
I sighed, letting out a breath I felt I was holding for decades. Maybe I was.
“If you’re not ready to face the land of the living, that’s your choice, and I won’t hold you to it. But just know… we have to start working on the Kensingtons.”
And just like that, the soft and peaceful atmosphere blew away with the draft coming from the cracked window.
Right. The Founder’s Society.
We both knew what that meant.
I groaned into my pillow before tilting my head. “How early do you people wake up?”
Paris chuckled. “As you Americans like to say, you snooze, you lose.”
I raised a slow brow. “I’ve never heard that before.”
She huffed and fixed her hair. “Should I let Kingsley in?”
I shook my head and she didn’t push. She nodded before moving closer, placing one hand against my shoulder, and said, “If there is one thing I learned, it’s that you don’t owe anyone anything. That's all the time you need.”
With that, she bid me farewell in her own dramatic yet strangely endearing way and closed the door, helpfully shutting me out from the world once more.
I could hear muffled talk outside, but it faded into silence once more, Paris having walked away and Wolf’s shadow along with her.
I didn’t know what to tell Wolf. I didn’t know if I even trusted Wolf.
Was he planted by his brother to watch me?
I sounded like myself back as a runaway teen. Suspicious and suspecting of anything and everything.
