Page 49 of Dance with the Devil

For my butterfly.

So I nod, and Damien says, “Good. Then I trust we have an understanding.”

I guess we do.

Devil waits for me to follow him into the backseat of his car. Once we’re both seated, he raps the glass separating him from Luca, and says, “Let’s bring our boy back. And then take a couple of nights off, Luca. You deserve it.”

“You got it, boss,” he answers.

The cars starts, and we’re off, leaving the last of my battered heart behind me.

Devil waits until we’ve sped out of the compound’s parking lot before he asks, “You doing okay?”

No. “I survived.”

I survived the captivity. How the hell am I going to survive being apart from Genevieve?

Devil searches my face. I do everything I can to shut down and give nothing away. It must work because, after a moment, he leans back in his seat. His legs spread open, hand landing on the Sig Sauer that is his constant companion.

With an expectant look in his dark eyes, he nods at me. “In that case, I want you to tell me everything you know about this second Winter…”

SEVENTEEN

AFTER

GENEVIEVE

No one will tell me where Cross is, and I feel like I’m going to lose my damn mind because of it.

It’s been four days since we’ve been rescued. At first, I was in shock. I won’t deny that, and when Damien came home and met me on the ground floor where I refused to leave until I saw Cross again, he told me that his priority was to make sure I was okay.

Dr. Liz is dead, and good riddance. But we have a new doc that Damien is vetting, and against my will, he brought Dr. Vargas with him to the manor. One check-up later, and I was told that I was exhausted, dehydrated, I’d lost ten pounds I couldn’t afford to lose, my road rash had healed into a series of scars that hopefully be covered up by tights, and I was definitely in shock.

I was told to take a warm shower to chase away the cold from the shock, drink fluids before Damien threatened me with an IV, and get as much sleep as possible to help in recovery. The doc suggested I actually be hospitalized, but Dame shut that down real fast.

So did I. I just wanted Cross.

Why didn’t he come with Damien? The only thing I got out of my brother was that Cross told him it was better if we went our separate ways after spending the last three weeks cramped up in the same cell. I couldn’t believe it, but what else could I do?

Sneaking out was my first plan, to be honest. I gave all the proper lip service to the doctor, promising I would take care of myself, but in my brain, I was halfway to Sinners & Saints to see Cross—and then I went to my bedroom and discovered that that won’t be happening anytime soon.

Damien fucking cut down my tree.

The tree that’s been outside my window since he built this manor for his family?Gone. My escape? Nonexistent.

And when he looked at me without any remorse as he made me promise that I would never sneak out again, I think I hated my brother for the first time ever.

The shock did fade. Sleep did help, even though I find it much harder to sleep in a bed by myself. All I wanted was Cross, though, and I settled for convincing Damien to replace my phone for me if I’d at least come downstairs for breakfast that third morning.

I have a dumbwaiter that leads from the kitchen to my bedroom on the third floor. I thought it was the coolest thing ever when Damien had it constructed just for me, and it comes in handy when I’m in the middle of a marathon training session. I could just nip out of my studio, grab a bite from our cook, and go back to dance some more.

I’d skipped every meal with the family since I returned until I got the phone. But when I dialed the number I memorized and couldn’t get through to Cross, I realized I was blocked. Texts didn’t go through. I even googled the number for Sinners & Saintsand The Devil’s Playground, searching for someone to get through to him, and failed miserably.

Damien’s words still echo in my ears when I threw a fit and nearly smashed the new phone:I’m so sorry, sorellina, but I didn’t want to hurt you. He made it very clear, now that you’re out of that place, he needs to move on with you. It’s not your fault, but his. So don’t cry…

I didn’t cry. I threw my brother’s ass out of my room and have refused to speak to him since.

I want to know what he said to Cross when I was too out of it to fight to stay and listen. Oh, he denies it, and Savannah’s careful to change the subject when I ask, and Vin… after nearly losing Damien, then me, my cousin is on a tear, joining one of Devil’s men in their search to exterminate any Winter strongholds in Springfield. But no one will tell me anything about Cross, and I feel like I’m going insane.

---