Page 89 of Burn With Me

I could throw her off. I could turn away and give her nothing, and for a moment, I contemplate it. Then I inhale a breath and slowly release it. My own anger isn’t worth it and the hurt it stems from will heal. Gently, I turn my hand over and squeeze hers back.

“I know.” It’s all I can offer her for now. An acknowledgment, if not an acceptance. If not forgiveness. Hel looks hurt, like she’s about to cry, but when I pull away this time, she lets me go. The door to the dorm closes and I turn, my heels clicking across the floor as I make my way down the hallway to join my brother at the elevators. Tonight is about more than my friends. It’s about my family and Isaac. It’s about finding out if his hubris will be both of our downfalls.

* * *

Damien Icari’s California Estate is massive. If west coast lavishness could be put into a building, it’s the sprawling Grecian mansion that is his home. As Marcus pulls through the long winding drive, following the already extensive line of black town cars and expensive foreign sports vehicles, I take a second to scan my surroundings.

Neither of us has said a word the whole drive. I’ve been so focused on the tense silence, but the moment we pass through the gates, all of that evaporates. The front is nothing but white stone and pillars. Twin square fountains mirror one another on the front lawn, sparkling blue and lit up from within. Despite the dusky sky and the sun sinking behind the building, the water practically glows. The statues in both are different depictions. One is a strange beastly man with a bull’s head and a woman captured in his arms. The other is a man with melting wings; his arm outstretched towards the sky as if he’s falling.

There are lights encircling each pillar on the front porch, glittering as they’re intertwined with vines and greenery that have obviously been placed there rather than allowed to grow naturally. Our car moves forward, and the closer we get, the more my stomach sinks. I pull out my phone and check for messages, but once again, there’s nothing. Not from Isaac, and strangely enough, not from my mother either. The only other person I half expected to message me would be Selene, but unfortunately, we’re still in the dark. She seems to be getting her assignments from professors, but there’s no word to her actual friends. It’s concerning.

After tonight, I’ll have to finally track her down and demand answers, I tell myself. If it’s about her mother, then something needs to be done. Whatever the case is, though, I hope I can resolve my own problems sooner than later and refocus on my friends—maybe rebuild my friendship with Hel.

Marcus grits his teeth as his fingers squeeze the steering wheel of the dark SUV he’s driving. Finally, we reach the front of the line. A valet in slacks and a white button-down hurries to my door, popping it open and offering me a hand. I take it gratefully, as the heels I’m wearing tonight are exceptionally high and sharp as hell. All the better to stab someone with if I feel the urge. At least, that’s what I told myself when I forked over my credit card to purchase them.

I step out onto the cold stone walkway as my brother rounds the front of the SUV to take my arm from the valet. As much as I want to rip myself away from him, I let it slide and link my arm through his as we make our way through the front pillars, following the crowd of equally dressed guests.

We make it through the front doors and I hand over my jacket to a woman dressed much the same as the valet. Eyes turn as the golden hue of my dress is illuminated by the bright lights. I’ve always avoided making a scene around my mother, but this is a statement.

To Isaac. To her. To Damien.

I’m no one’s pawn, and I won’t stay quiet. Not this time.

“You’re not usually one for ostentatiousness,” Marcus comments lightly.

“Yes, well, playing the wallflower hasn’t exactly gotten me anywhere,” I remind him. “So, I thought I’d change things up.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Rori.”

“You’re welcome to think whatever you want, Marcus,” I reply. “But just like everyone else, you don’t control me. I control myself. Besides…” I gently ease my arm away from his the second we’re in the grand space meant to be the reception’s main room and turn to face him with a half-smile. “It’s just a dress.”

“It’s not the dress, and you know it,” he replies. “You’re drawing attention to yourself on purpose.”

I am. I’m doing it because I know it’ll shock my mother. It’ll lead her to ask questions and be the perfect excuse to get her alone. The perfect excuse to give her my warning. I only hope she takes it. My brother opens his mouth to say something else but is curtly interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Aurora? Marcus?” I can see my brother’s brows rise in slight surprise and I can’t fault him for it. The two of us turn as a tall woman approaches with a glass of champagne in hand.

“Aunt Carmen?”

Her heels click across the marble flooring as she approaches, a loose, reserved, black floor-length gown swishing around her ankles. Despite the high neckline, the sleeves stop at her shoulders and the spot of color flashing at her feet draws my attention down to the bright red Jimmy Choos. They look like the shoes fromThe Wizard of Oz,and that brings a smile to my face.

“It’s so good to see you.” Aunt Carmen moves forward and envelops me with a strong half-hug as she holds her champagne out of the way. Once she’s done, she moves to Marcus, who greets her with the first genuine smile I’ve seen from him in a while. He gently kisses her cheek as she pulls away.

“It’s good to see you too, Aunty,” he says. “I didn’t know if you were coming.”

Aunt Carmen huffs but nods. “That’s fair. I’ve been to so many of Emmy’s damn weddings, I’ve grown tired of them, but considering I didn’t actually go to this one, I thought I could at least come to the reception.”

“Have you seen her or talked to her?” Marcus asks.

Aunt Carmen sighs and then slams back the entire glass of her champagne before answering. “Of course not.” She sets the now-empty flute on the tray of a passing waiter before turning back to us. “But that’s nothing new. I want to hear about you two. It’s been so long. Rori, honey, how’s college treating you?”

It’s a startling change to have an adult treat me like a child again, and while it might upset or irritate others, it only evokes a smile from me in the way Aunt Carmen always manages to. “It’s fine,” I answer. “The classes aren’t as hard as my high school teachers led me to believe.”

Aunt Carmen laughs at that. “They never are,” she agrees, shaking her head. “But you’re a smart girl; I’m sure you’re just flying through them.” She turns to Marcus. “And you, boy.” She pops both of her hands on her hips, the short length of her shoulder-length hair swishing with the movement of her head. “You transferred to Eastpoint! Shame on you for not telling me.”

Marcus blinks and has the audacity to look sheepish as he offers her another smile and chuckles. “Sorry, Aunty.”

She huffs out a breath. “Well, I hope you’re at least managing to keep up with classes.”

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