Page 52 of Hunted By the Guardian
“We’ll see,” Violet smirked, though she was sure he was right. The easy banter…it was one of the things she enjoyed the very most about Jonathan. The results of this contest meant nothing. The point was that they could tease one another about it.
Noah burst out laughing.
“What’s funny?” Violet asked him.
“I just think I’m lucky,” he told her. “Because how many people’s parents worry about things like who can throw a rock the farthest? I just think that it’s fun that my mum and dad…”
He trailed off, his eyes going wide.
The words had already been spoken. There was nothing to be done, no taking them back. And they swept through the room like a hurricane. Violet actually grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself. Jonathan’s eyes had gone wide as well, though he quickly controlled his expression—she knew he had registered it too.
My mum and dad.
Things had gotten out of control. Things had gone much too far.
The room was silent. Noah looked from Violet to Jonathan, clearly waiting for them to react, but Violet had no idea what to say. Nor, it seemed, did Jonathan—he was now staring out the window as though he’d heard nothing at all. Perhaps he hoped the situation would simply go away if he ignored it.
Noah had stopped himself, corrected himself—but it was already too late. They had heard what he’d said, and they knew he’d meant it. He did think of them that way. That was how he saw the family.
Even that word is indicative of a problem. A bad one. Because this is not a family, and it never will be. We are all allowing ourselves to see things in ways that don’t really exist.
Someone is going to get hurt.
And the worst thing of all was the realization that the person getting hurt was likely to be Noah.
They had won his trust. They had won his affection. And one of them—either Violet or Jonathan—was going to leave, and he would lose someone he had trusted for the second time in quick succession.
She couldn’t bear to be in the room anymore. It was too painful to think about all these things with Noah watching her, looking up at her as if she might somehow come up with answers she didn’t have.
“You two keep reading the book,” she said. “I need to go tend to some things.”
Jonathan made eye contact with her, and Violet was sure he knew she didn’t have anything to tend to at all. He understood the reason she was leaving the room right now. He didn’t try to stop her, though, and she thought he must be feeling something very similar to what she was. Maybe he had also been taken aback by what Noah had said. Maybe he also worried about the implications.
Maybe he would leave sooner than he had meant to because he didn’t want Noah to get the wrong idea.
Which would mean I would get the house. But that didn’t seem as appealing as it once had, somehow. When this had all begun, the idea of him leaving had been all she’d wanted, but that was no longer true. Now there was a very large part of her that flinched at the thought of it, and at the idea of the pain that would surely follow.
She would grieve the loss.
Would she see him again? Or would they go their separate ways and never speak again? Would this be the very last time their paths would intertwine? Years from now, when she thought of Jonathan, would it be with a soft ache for something that had once been such a potent force in her life—but that, ultimately, had been fleeting?
CHAPTER 28
Standing outside the study door later that night, Violet tried to muster up the courage to knock.
She recalled how Noah had walked right in without announcing himself. It had been so bold and courageous of him, and she wished she could do the same thing. She couldn’t even knock on the door!
No, I can. I can do that. What’s the worst that can happen, after all?
Gritting her teeth, she raised a hand and knocked.
There was a moment’s pause, then the sound of footsteps. The door opened.
Jonathan had a glass of bourbon in his hand. His shirt collar was unbuttoned, and his hair was disheveled, as if he had run a hand through it a few times. “Is Noah in bed?” he asked her.
“Yes, he went about an hour ago.” She walked slowly into the room, wondering if he would invite her to take a seat. He didn’t, but Violet decided she didn’t need to wait for an invitation. It was his study, but it was her house…probably.
She sat down in the chair that faced his desk. “I think we need to talk about some things,” she said quietly.
