by James, Lylah
But with the only suspect now dead, we had no leads.
Still, I’d doubled the security around the island. While we were still in the dark, we didn’t know if the maid was just insane and acted on her own – or if there had been someone else behind the shooting. A mastermind.
Whoever it was though… they wouldn’t attack again. Not any time soon. And especially not when we were now vigilant after their first failed attempt.
My side, where the wound had been bandaged, still ached like a motherfucker. Every time I breathed, it felt like someone was poking the wound, digging their finger in there. And sitting up straight wasn’t helping either. Sweat broke across my brow and I gritted my teeth against the pain.
I missed last night’s dinner because Samuel fucking drugged me, but I heard that Julianna was practically passed out too and she missed dinner. So, last night didn’t count.
But I wasn’t going to miss another dinner. A simple bullet wound wasn’t going to stop me.
Not if Julianna would use it against me and come up with another shitty compromise, making me dance to her tunes.
Not that I thought she would…
And it was definitely not because I somewhat enjoyed dinner with her every night. Her banter and her in-depth discourse about politics and really, anything in between.
Yeah, maybe getting shot has fucked with my brain. Goddamn it!
Julianna wasn’t a stupid rich heiress, like I had expected her to be.
In fact, she was quite smart about politics and business, so, over dinners, we had found a common ground. Other that throwing insults and going for each other’s throats, we had chosen safe topics to talk about.
That was the deal, anyway. Wasn’t it?
Dinner every evening, for thirty nights and we would try to get along. Well, granted that wasn’t a success all the time… but we did get along, well enough that we survived each other’s presence for the last two weeks without strangling each other.
Two weeks in her company and I was starting to see Julianna for someone other than Gracelynn’s killer…
There was just so much heartbreak in her face, so much torment in her eyes – Julianna was already killing herself without me having to. She was self-destructing; her soul practically begging for more pain, more suffering, more despair.
A pretty fucking mess, under the black veil, expensive gowns and beautiful jewelleries.
“I wouldn’t have held it against you if you skipped dinner tonight or tomorrow,” she said. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
The three flower vases along the length of the table, sitting right in the middle, hid her face from me. I knew she removed her veil while we ate and I knew those vases were placed, in this specific way, for a reason.
I found myself frowning at her words, not exactly sure if she was calling me weak. Did she think that stupid bullet wound could bring me down? “I only got shot, Beasty. You’re acting as if I’m dying.”
“I’m acting like a caring wife,” she informed me, with a slight quiver in her voice.
“Ah, yes.” I nodded. “Playing along. Civil and in love.”
Julianna released a tiny growl and I almost laughed at how non-threatening that sounded. “That’s not it. Why do you keep twisting my words, Killian?” she gritted.
I cut through my steak and shoved a piece in my mouth and waited until I had chewed and swallowed down my food before replying. Because respected gentleman didn’t speak with their mouth full. “Why? Do you want me to think that you actually care?”
She must have heard the taunt in my voice because Julianna dropped her fork with a clank against the porcelain plate. “I’m not heartless. You got shot because of me. Of course, I care!”
My brows pulled up at how affronted she sounded. “Would it matter?”
“What?” my wife hissed.
“Would it matter if I died?” I drawled, enjoying the indignation in her voice. “You’ll finally be rid of me, Beasty.”
That silenced her.
Even with the distance between us, I heard her sharp inhale. I imagined her tortured grey eyes, glassy with heartbreak. For once, I wanted to see her facial expression, instead of having to guess her emotions through her eyes. But her gaze always spoke what she felt. Julianna might have been a good liar, but her eyes never lied.
“You can’t die,” she finally whispered. “You can’t.”
My fingers tightened around my fork at her soft whisper and the cracks in her voice. “You sound quite heartbroken at the thought. You’re a good actress, wife. I’ll give you credit for that. A good actress, sometimes a good liar, but always the villain,” I said coldly.
“There we go,” she snapped, waving a hand between us. “Asshole Killian is at it again. I almost missed him.”
“I knew you’d choose asshole Killian over the gentleman. You really do have a penchant for pain,” I drawled.
“And you really need to take that stick out of your ass.”
“Feeling quite bold today, aren’t you?”
Julianna sighed. “Civil and in love,” she reminded us, her voice softening.
“Civil and in love,” I agreed.
After a few seconds of silence, Julianna spoke again. “Your father said that he’ll be here next week, a few days before the masquerade ball.”
I nodded. “Yes, I know.”
“How many guests are we expecting?”
Once my plate was empty, I pushed it away and placed my elbows over the edge of the table. With my chin over my laced fingers, I regarded the navy and white vase – for Julianna’s face was hidden right behind it.
“Around two hundred,” I surmised thoughtfully. “And these are only the ones that matter.”
“In the public eye,” she amended.
“Exactly.”
“This is important for both our families,” Julianna mumbled and then sighed in what I presumed was anxiousness. “It’s our first event together since our marriage. In fact, it’s the first time we will be seen together since the wedding.”
Since you left me at the altar. Julianna didn’t say it out loud, but nonetheless, I heard her silent accusation. I ignored it.
“They will find your insecurities.” The warning in my voice might have caught her attention because I saw her shoulders pop back and she straightened in her seat. “They will drag your flaws from under your flesh and dig deep into your soul.”
“Like you do?” she shot back.
“You’re my wife,” I said blandly. “I can do whatever I want but I won’t give anyone else the opportunity to do the same.”
“So, you’ll protect me from the vultures?” And now she was mocking me. How brave of her.
“I’ll protect you from the vultures and once we are alone–”
Julianna cut me off. “You’ll go back to hating me, I know.”
I clucked my tongue at her, a grin spreading across my face. “Glad we’re on the same page, Beasty.”
“A protector with bitter words and a callous heart. I guess I can’t be too picky.”
“We’re married. It’s not like you have a choice anymore.”
And that was it. The rest of our dinner happened in silence. Dessert came next and that was also eaten without a word between us.
Eventually, our plates were cleared away and instead of leaving the table, I stayed seated. So did Julianna. “Killian,” she breathed my name and I waited.
She seemed to want to say something, but was holding herself back.
While the vase hid her face from me, I still caught a glimpse of the scarred side of her face from behind the flowers. The skin was stretched tightly, almost painfully over her bones, with jagged lines running down her cheeks. With all the money she had at her disposal, it made me wonder why she never tried plastic surgery.
Fuck, she could have had a whole new face if she wanted.
And yet, she only wore a thin veil.
It made me curious as to why…
Julianna didn’t see
m like someone who was self-unconscious of her scars, but then, why the black veil?
“Go ahead, speak your mind.” I gave her the push she needed and gestured for her to speak.
I saw Julianna’s hand flutter over her face and I realized that she was pinning her veil back in place. Julianna stood up and my eyes roamed the length of her. Black hair in a messy bun, her black veil and this evening, she had chosen a navy-blue gown with a diamond choker around her throat.
She took a deep breath and I watched as she debated with herself, to speak or to not speak her mind.
Her fingers fluttered over the veil and then her throat. Her nervousness was practically seeping through her actions and this was exactly why the high society would chew her up and spit her out. If she was lucky enough, they’d drag her through the dirt for a few months and then move to the next weakling. Or if she was unfortunate, Julianna would never be able to face these people again.
She wouldn’t stand a chance against them.
And I couldn’t allow that.
Especially not when the Spencer’s reputation was at risk. My wife would have to hold her own and I would have to be her shield, while they threw stones at her.
A protector.
To the woman who broke my heart.
How ironic.
“For what it’s worth, I know you don’t care for my apologies, but I’m sorry,” Julianna finally spoke, her voice considerably soft, I almost missed her words.
I blinked.
It took a second for her words to register in my brain and then it came crashing down on me. Confused, I only stared at Julianna for a moment.
She apologized, yes.
But it was something else that nagged me…
With her apologies, she had poked what seemed like a distant memory, triggering me into remembering my dream.
Last night.
I had dreamed of Gracelynn.
Kissing her.
Breathing her.
Touching her.
The dream had been so vivid, but it was always like that whenever her ghost visited me in my nightmares.
But it had been a long time since I dreamed of Gracelynn like that. So close, I swore I smelled her perfume. So fucking close, her skin had felt real under my tingling fingertips.
Her whisper… her voice…
In my dream, she had apologized. “I’m sorry.”
I had been too drugged last night to make sense of the dream, and when I woke up in the morning, I buried the memories in the back of my mind, refusing to delve into them.
But now that I thought of it, it wasn’t Gracelynn’s voice in my ears.
My breath slammed into my throat, as realization dawned on me.
It was Julianna’s voice in my dream.
It had been her apologizing and…
The kiss.
That dream wasn’t a dream, after all.
My head snapped toward her as she started to walk away, leaving me at the table as if she hadn’t been in my room last night… as if she hadn’t invaded my dreams and stole kisses that didn’t belong to her.
Fury simmered underneath my skin, lava coursing through my veins. How fucking dared she?
Julianna
I closed the door behind me, not even bothering to lock it, and practically crumpled on my bed. Killian didn’t care that I apologized. I knew he wouldn’t accept my apology but I hadn’t expected the look of pure rage on his face. Indifference, yes. Another insult, yes. Maybe him taunting me with his casual drawl but not… such crazed fury.
I had come to a point where it felt like no matter what I said or did, I would never get Killian to understand me.
Beg for salvation.
I did, on my knees, every night…
Atone for your sins. Repent.
Marrying Killian and staying in this relationship was my atonement.
Redemption is in the hands of the one you have wronged.
Too bad for me, the man I had wronged hated me with every ounce of his being. I had come to understand that maybe, I would never find the redemption I was seeking. Not in this lifetime anyway.
This castle was cursed, I had begun to believe, and I’d only end up like the other souls who were trapped here. Just another unfinished story, another ghost roaming within these walls.
My door crashed open and I startled, practically jumping off the bed. Killian stalked inside with mad purpose. His long legs ate the distance between the door and my bed quickly, his face a masked of pure, unadulterated rage. His eyes were pitch-black and his jaw tightened, the muscle in his left cheek ticking under the pressure.
“Julianna.” His frosty voice echoed in my ears, and I froze in my tracks. “Did you come into my room last night?”
My eyes widened and my heart dipped to my stomach. Something shifted inside of me, an invisible vise squeezing my heart with thorny vines and I wanted to break free… but I couldn’t.
Killian knew…
Last night had been my secret to bear – something impulsive I had done, but I didn’t think it’d come back to me, chasing me with its ugly truth, or that I would have had to face it so soon.
My lack of response was answer enough for him. He approached me, his presence reeking of brutal vengeance and merciless death. As he bypassed the coffee table, he grabbed for the knife that sat on the tray of fruits.
A choked sound escaped my throat and I stumbled back against the wall. I put a hand out to ward him off, but Killian lunged forward, crowding into my personal space and pinning me against the wall of my room with the length of his body.
Warm and solid.
Both my protector and my tormentor.
I quivered when he placed the tip of the knife against my throat, holding it there. A soft caress, but so goddamn deadly. His dark eyes were almost inhuman with mania and restrained violence.
And for the first time, I truly feared Killian. He was capable of doing anything but the only reason he had kept me alive for this long was because of our marriage contract.
But now, I had gone and crossed over a boundary that had been put there when Killian had left me at the altar.
My skin rippled with goosebumps, and I gulped, hard. The knife shifted against my skin and my breath stuttered.
“You stole something that didn’t belong to you, Julianna,” Killian hissed, his hot breath fanning over my veil. “You shouldn’t have fucking done that.”
Even through the fear swallowing me up – even with the guilt coursing through my body, there was anger simmering in the pit of my stomach. At the total unfairness of all of this.
I wanted to scream at him to look into my eyes, to see the real me.
But Killian was so blinded by his pain and his need for vengeance, he couldn’t see what was right in front of him.
“Why not?” I found myself saying before I could think twice of it. “I’m your wife, aren’t I? I took vows in front of God and witnesses. You are my husband… and you’re wrong. I didn’t steal that kiss. You gave it to me and I took it because it is rightfully mine. That kiss belonged to me.”
Oh, the glacial look on his face and in his soulless eyes.
His lips curled up in a snarl. “I save your life once and you suddenly think you can do whatever you want, say whatever you want. I don’t know if I should call you brave or a fool.”
A wave of shame ran through me, digging under my skin and filling my veins with acid, but I pushed it away. I pushed it all away – the guilt, the shame, the disappointment, all the pain and despair – and I said things I couldn’t take back.
Words that turned me into the villain and gave Killian another reason to hate me more.
He had been right – I was self-destructing.
“And why are you such a hypocrite?” I let out a humorless laugh and the tip of the knife pressed harder into my flesh, not enough to break skin, but enough to warn me. “Didn’t you do the same in the labyrinth? Why is it you can kiss me whenever you damn well want to but I can’t do the same
? Then, I was your wife but now, I’m the villain. You are the most hypocritical man I’ve ever met in my life.”
His chest vibrated with a sound that rippled across the bare skin of my arms. He looked like the reaper, coming for my soul and dragging me into the depths of hell.
Killian dragged the knife over my throat before pressing the sharp blade into my flesh, with the tiniest prick. “This is your jugular vein. I could easily slit your throat and end this but you don’t deserve such an easy death. I will make sure you suffer more than my Gracelynn has.”
I batted his hand away and the knife dropped to the ground next to our feet. His nostrils flared and I pushed at his chest, balled fists thumping over his chest. “You think I don’t know?” I cried out.
I pushed him again, hard enough he stumbled back two steps. “You think it doesn’t hurt me? You think it doesn’t pain me? Gracelynn was my sister before she was your lover. I knew her far longer than she was in your life. I loved her far longer than you have and I was there. I. Was. There. In that fucking car.”
I stabbed a finger into his chest with every punctuated word. I didn’t care that I was making the situation worse. I no longer cared that Killian would probably hate me for the rest of his life. I no longer cared about anything.
Because I had come to realize that no matter how hard I tried to fix things, the blood staining my hands would never let me be a better person, for my sins were too heavy to carry.
“For hours, I was trapped in that car with my sister’s dead body while it felt like I was burning from the inside out. I was alive, breathing, yet dying a slow, painful death. Look at me!” I screamed, pointing at my veiled face. “Look at me. These scars are my reminder every day. I was there… crying for her to open her eyes. Begging her to say a word. Pleading for her to breathe. Just one more breath.”
The ache in my chest intensified but I wasn’t done yet.
My fist slammed into his chest. “You aren’t the only one who lost someone that night. I lost her too. And I lost more than you will ever know.”