Page 116 of Blood and Buttercups

I’m reeling, but I grasp for calm. “Before or after he sent me the accidental text?”

“What?”

“Did you kill him before or after he sent me the text? Was that Kevin at all, or was ityou?”

“After,” he says. “But believe me, I wanted to end him long before that.”

I swallow, my heart stuttering as it tries to bolt. “He’d been cheating on me for a while, hadn’t he?”

“I didn’t know if I should get involved.” Ethan shakes his head regretfully. “But after he made you cry…”

“That was dust,” I lie. “Just something in my eye.”

“Piper,” he says softly.

“You can’t kill everyone who upsets me!” I snap. “I mean, yeah, Kevin was a cheating pig, but he didn’t deserve todie. And the woman he was with—she didn’t deserve it either.”

“That’s why I didn’t ask you first—you’re so gentle. I knew you’d object, and they earned their fate.”

“He wasn’t a drug dealer, was he?”

Ethan laughs loudly, highly amused at the idea. “Of course not. The man sold baby clothes.”

I’m glad I’m sitting down because I’m a little dizzy. Guilt eats at me, gnawing, scraping, and my stomach squirms. A wave of nausea has me clamping my mouth shut and breathing in deeply through my nose. I reach for my cold glass of ice water, taking a gulp.

“I can order you something more potent if you’d like,” Ethan says ever so helpfully. “Wine? Scotch? Any blood type you prefer, human or animal. The kitchen is well-stocked.”

My fingers tighten on the condensation-drenched glass. “Human?”

He nods, oblivious to my revulsion.

“Where does it come from?”

“Donors, naturally.” He smiles. “I’m not a monster, Piper.”

“I’m not feeling well.” I return the cold glass to the smooth tablecloth. “Can we leave now? I’d like to see Olivia.”

“But we haven’t eaten yet.”

“Ethan,” I warn, my composure about to crack.

“Fine, my love.” He sighs, setting his cloth napkin on the table. “We can eat at home when you get hungry.”

We stand, and he steps up next to me, sliding in my recently vacated chair, looking regretful I don’t have a jacket or something he can help me with.

By the time we walk out the front door of the restaurant, a valet has already fetched the Lamborghini. Seeing it brings back memories of last night, and my mind wanders to Noah.

He won’t be happy when Cassian tells him what we’ve done.

“We’ll get rid of him, of course,” Ethan says, and I realize my mind has been wandering, and I haven’t been listening to him.

I whip my head over to give him my full attention. “What?”

The walkway is shaded thanks to the heavy cloud cover, making it possible for Ethan to walk outside.

“Your conservator—or rather, your ex-conservator. He’s made a nuisance of himself, but I’ve taken care of him.”

Cold dread paralyzes me, and I come to a panicked stop. “What do you mean, you’vetaken care of him?”

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