Page 47 of As the World Falls

“Nothing,” I lie.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m just not feeling that great today. I got a little car sick.”

“Do you need to go home?”

“No,” I rush out. If I went home, I wouldn’t get the proof I needed.

“We’re going to be walking around the warehouse. It’s fairly large. Will you be all right?” His concerned question catches me off guard. It was said with little to no emotion, almost like he was asking to be polite, but still, the fact that he asked at all and is staring a hole through me as he waited for an answer was… nice… coming from him.

“I’ll be fine. I feel better now.”

He narrows his gaze on me for a little longer, then turns and walks towards the warehouse. “Follow along, little owl,” I hear him call out.

I skipped into action behind him, keeping a small distance between us because apparently something was wrong with me today, and I couldn’t handle being too close. Just like the way he towered over me the other day, caging me into my chair as he leaned in close enough that verged way past appropriate.

I should have been frightened out of my mind. The right side of his face was spattered in blood, so, of course, I was a little scared. But then he got closer, his muscular arms coming around me to lock me in place as his unique gaze pierced me with their challenge, and I couldn’t look away. All fear had been forgotten. I could only focus on him, and the way he made me squirm with what I assumed was fear, but once he had moved away…I realized wasn’t fear at all but something else that disappointed me in his departure.

And don’t even get me started about that moment in the elevator. These are all just happenstances that I’m choosing to ignore.

I was officially going mad. Maybe that’s what happens working at Labyrinth Crystal. Everyone goes mad. Maybe my brother has gone mad. I think James has been a little mad for a long time now.

We walked inside, and it was not at all what I had expected it to be. Where I thought would be crazy conveyor belts and tired workers setting necklaces in boxes and people wrapping them after being surrounded by endless packaging everywhere, there were just rows and rows of acrylic shelving like at a department store with endless amounts of crystals and jewelry being displayed on them, ready for assembling and picking.

It was sparkling everywhere I looked. Everything was neatly placed and handled by workers who walked to shelves, selectedtheir items, and took them to their own table, where they neatly hand-wrapped and boxed everything.

I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of me as I spin around, twinkles of crystal catching my eye every which way. I feel a presence at my side, and I look over, seeing James watching me, his mouth twitching as if he were trying to fight one of his famous smirks.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

“It’s incredible,” I say honestly.

He purses his lips as if trying to keep his smile from widening. “Let me show you around,” he says, holding his hand out to mine. I look down at it, feeling my stomach flip, and before I give myself a chance to think about it, I place my hand in his and let him lead me down the endless aisles. “I recall you saying you don’t like jewelry?”

“Not really,” I admit.

“What’s the necklace you’re wearing?”

I look down at my necklace that sits neatly over my collarbone. “It was a gift from my mother when I was a kid. I always wear it.”

He stops next to me, looking down at it. “Is it a bear?”

I giggle, fingering it with my other hand, not intertwined with his. “It’s a teddy bear. She got it for me because she knew how much I liked them. I had a collection of teddy bears named after my favorite fairytale characters.”

“Ah, so you believe in fairytales?”

I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe once upon a time, I did. Now…I don’t know.”

He silently gazes at me, and I look down at my feet, feeling like I said something stupid. “You need to quit doing that,” he says, returning my attention to him.

“Doing what?”

“Every time you speak your mind about anything remotely deep, you look down to the floor.”

“So what?” I respond, feeling more embarrassed now. I hated how weak I felt sometimes.

“So,” he says, stepping in front of me, using his free hand to lift my chin. “Look up when you speak. Don’t let anyone make you feel what you have to say isn’t worthwhile.”

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