Page 97 of Devious Knight

Her eyes are on my chest, frozen in a stare as if she's trying to figure out something important. And she’s shaking. She’s shaking so badly I can see it.

“Lolita?”

It’s only then that she looks up at me and I see pain in her eyes. Pain that’s so dark it calls to me. I know that pain. I feel it every day. It’s the type you experience when you lose someone in a horrific way. The way I lost my parents.

“What’s wrong with you?” I keep my voice low enough that only she can hear me.

Instead of answering she tightens her grip on the tiny section of my jacket she’s holding and presses her palm harder against my chest. Like she needs me.

A new feeling I don’t recognize stirs inside me and I lean closer. It’s the first time I’ve been this close to her and not wanted to kiss her.

“Isabelle—”

“Nothing. I’m fine. I’m fine.” Her eyes turn glassy, and she releases me. “I have to go.”

I could start a collection of coins for every time she’s said that to me. I’m sure it won’t be the last time I hear those words.

I should let her go this time but the frailness in her appearance pulls at my insides.

It’s strange seeing happy, sunny Isabelle looking like death.

“Do you want me to go with you?” What the hell am I saying? That doesn’t even sound like me, but I said it and whatever made me say it wants her to say yes.

“No.” Her tone is rebuking and that wariness she usually shows me spreads across her face.

I should listen but as I look at her I know she’ll fall on her face the moment I release her. “You’ll fall.”

Her lips part in protest but she knows I’m right.

“Come.” I don’t give her the option to refuse again.

I slip my arm around her and usher her away, ignoring the curious looks that come our way from everyone who can see us. Including my friends. And Thorne.

I ignore them and him. Let them think what the hell ever they want.

With my head up, I focus on the exit ahead and the trembling girl in my arms.

We walk through the doors and the burst of fresh air seems to do her some good. By the time we descend the wide stone steps and reach the pavement she seems stronger.

I walk her over to the water fountain, where we’re away from the groups of people.

I stop there and turn her to face me. The color has returned to her cheeks, and now she’s looking at me like she’s confused. Confused by me.

Yeah, I’m right there with you. I’m confusing myself, too.

“What the hell was that about?” I demand.

“Nothing. I just felt sick.”

Lies. More lies. Not the sweet little ones she’s been whispering to me about not wanting me. These lies are the other kind. The bitter sort.

“It didn’t look that way to me.”

“Well, it’s true. I just felt sick.”

“Isabelle—”

“Stop it.” She steps back, away from me.

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