Page 16 of Consume Me

Once all my friends head out, I place the muffin I left in the oven on a small plate, knowing exactly who I saved it for.

Gripping the edge of the table, I sigh before taking the stairs to his room. I came in here every day he was away. His bed is made, and his clothes are arranged neatly in his walk-in closet. His heady masculine scent lingers all around me.

After quickly placing the plate on his desk, I leave and head back to my room to do some coursework.

Ever since I was little, I’ve wanted to be a teacher. My mom was one, and how she prepared her lessons always fascinated me. She was passionate about her job, often telling me how important it was not to break a student’s confidence. As she corrected their papers, she encouraged them to do better, leaving motivational notes, especially when she had to give lower grades. She was loved, and at her funeral, all her students cried. Although it was my mother who died, I could see that they, too, lost someone they cared deeply about. Becoming a teacher is a way to preserve her memory and continue her legacy. In my free time, I also read stories to children online.

The sun is setting, painting the sky in shades of violet and orange, melting together until dark blue replaces them. A fresh batch of snow blows a frosty blanket over the earth. Opening my bedroom door, I lean forward, peering to my left and inhaling the notes of his smokey smell, warming my insides.

I am going insane.

“Thank you,” he says from my right side, and my head immediately whips in that direction.

Inhaling deeply, I gather the strength to face him.

The plate in his hand is nearly empty. He plucks at the crumbs, moaning softly. “I’ve missed these.”

There’s a crumb in the corner of his mouth. How I’d like to lick it off, to taste his lips.

I squeeze my eyes shut. When I open them, he’s gone.

Unable to stay in the house a second longer, I jump into my Mini Cooper and drive to the compound to visit my father.

When I let myself in, he pulls me into a tight embrace.

“I’ve missed my favorite daughter.”

I roll my eyes playfully at him. “Last time I checked, I was your only daughter.”

He chuckles, and it hasn’t slipped my attention that he’s been in a better mood since moving to this house. This is what he has worked for, what my brother and I grew up knowing—that we’re a part of something bigger and that our roots are not in London but in Greenville. Our forefathers were cut off, but the attempt to end our line failed. My great-grandfather saw it coming and staged his family’s death. It was on us to reclaim our rightful place, and we did, though it almost cost us our lives. But I am glad my father is content.

I wish I could find a mission that demands all my attention so I can live for that and ignore everything else.

“Your brother said you didn’t want to come to training.”

“Where’s your wallet?” I ask, and he pats his back pocket, but I lift my hand and show it to him.

“He insists you should learn to defend yourself.”

“I can work a gun.”

For someone who doesn’t like physical violence, seeing Blake in his element always enraptured me.

“How are you holding up with Blake coming back?”

My father doesn’t know about my secret feelings.

“It’s his right to come back.”

“I disagree with Cassandra insisting you have a normal college life. Even if those assholes are trapped, we can’t know how far their reach went. We can’t trust anyone.”

That’s why I like Cassandra. At least she tries to give us real-life experiences. If it were up to my father and Sebastian, we’d always be on guard, always fighting with invisible enemies.

His phone rings and a huge smile spreads across his face.

“I have to take this,” he says, heading to his home office.

I glance at my watch. Ten minutes pass before he reappears. I can’t remember my father ever talking on the phone that long.

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