Page 131 of A Heart of Bluestone

He really might have been the one to snitch on me to my father.

I lower my lashes on his reflection, the sway of his body. Though I’m sure that’s the drink and he’s not actually swaying.

“Eric’s one of the few who have always been nice to me.” Then, I add to explain away ourfamiliarity, as he put it, “He tutors me.”

Even drunk, I’m careful what I say to him. Anything can be used as a weapon against me.

Dray nods, slow and thoughtful.

I doubt he knows I am watching him in the mirror. But he does apparently know that Eric is my tutor, because there’s not the slightest hint of surprise to flicker over his face.

He just does that faint nod.

And the silence creeps over us. To him, to how lounged he is on the couch, how serene he looks just watching me, that silence might feel like a blanket on a chilly day. To me, the silence is uneasy, it’s a pressure that weighs me down on the couch and I can’t writhe against it.

The niggle urges me to slip off the couch, to crawl into the girls’ dorms as fast as I can. Then Dray can’t reach me.

But that’s all the way through the door, down the hall, and onto the first step of the narrow staircase.

He’ll stroll and still catch up with me.

“I feel better,” I say. Sort of true, isn’t it? If I don’t move, I don’t sick up anymore. “I should go—”

“You’ll stay where you are.”

I turn a scowl on him, hair plastered to my cheeks.

Dray looks at me long and hard, like I’m the only person in the world and he can read my thoughts with good enough focus.But I’m the only person with him in this cigar room, and I’m suddenly aware of my vulnerability.

With his hands on my feet, he could firm his grip and twist the bones until they break. He could grab my ankles and yank me off the couch for me to knock my head on the coffee table.

He could do all sorts of things, even cut off my hair if I let this weight drag me down to sleep.

I huff and throw my head down. My lashes shut, tight.

No harm comes.

I melt into the couch.

Still, no harm comes.

Tension unwinds from my muscles.

Dray is silent. Steady breaths, his hands soft on my feet.

I drift.

His words are so soft that I barely hear them.

But I do hear them.

“I loved you.”

I slip away.

21

I wake to a horrible throbbing sensation that’s coming from within my skull, and it’s entirely as though my brain is trying to punch its escape through the bone.

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