Page 485 of Filthy Elites

“No,” she shrieks, shuffling farther away from me and scrambling to her feet.

Hunter sends a glare in my direction, but his expression softens when he looks back to her. She never knew they watched her for the year before I claimed her. My friends were almost as angry as I was when she didn’t come back from her dad’s. She left all of us, she just had no idea they would be hurt by that. “Starling, all I need to touch is your wrist. My two fingers on your wrist, that’s all, I promise I won’t touch you anywhere else.”

Her eyes flash to me and then around the kitchen before she shuffles along the counter to the right, moving behind Hunter and positioning him so he’s between me and her. From this angle, I can only see half of her as she cautiously lifts her wrist and offers it to my friend. Just like he promised, he takes her pulse, then immediately lifts his hand away and steps back, giving her some space.

“Your pulse is still high, but your breathing seems steadier and the blue tinge has gone from your lips. I think we should take you to the hospital, just to have you checked out.”

She shakes her head. “There’s no point, Dad took me the first few times I had them and all they do is keep me under observation for a night, charge me thousands of dollars then send me home and tell me to try and reduce my stress and anxiety,” she tells him, her voice barely more than a whisper.

I knew she’d had panic attacks when she first moved to Maine, but I assumed when there were no more hospital visits that they’d stopped, it never occurred to me that she just stopped going to the doctors.

“You’re going to the hospital,” I demand.

“Bastian,” Evan says, shocking me.

“She needs to go to the fucking hospital, her fucking lips were blue ten fucking minutes ago,” I shout.

“Bro,” Clay says.

“No, this is bullshit, if your woman couldn’t breathe and was turning fucking blue we’d be on the way to the damn hospital by now, no questions asked.”

While I’ve been ranting, Starling has moved to the other side of the kitchen island, putting a whole expanse of counter between us, like she needs a physical barrier to stop me from getting closer to her.

“Look at her, Bastian,” Hunter says quietly. “She’s fucking terrified.”

“Why are you here?” she asks, surprising me.

“Where else would I be?”

“Harvard,” she whispers, then coughs, the sound raspy enough that I take a step forward, the urge to drag her to me almost overwhelming. “Mom enjoyed telling me about how successful you’ve been there.”

There’s a hint of derision in her tone that reminds me of the way she used to sound when she enjoyed fighting with me, playing with me.

“Cassidy is proud of all of us, she calls us her surrogate sons,” I tell her, smirking. “We’re all like one big happy family now she’s a Morris, she really relied on us after you abandoned her.”

“So I’ve heard, I’m glad she has a support network,” she says quietly. “Why are you here, Sebastian?”

“Because you’re here, where else would I be?”

Exhaling shakily, her lips pinch together and she smiles sadly. “Haven’t you done enough to me? We dated for a couple of months over two years ago. It wasn’t serious, we never had sex or declared our undying love for one another. You never even asked me if it was something I wanted, you just declared that I was yours and took over my life. I rejected you, so you single-handedly destroyed my relationship with my mother and took my best friend from me. Isn’t that enough? Surely your ego wasn’t that badly bruised by my not wanting you that you’re still looking for revenge all these years later? You win, okay? If you want me to leave, I’ll go. If you want me to cut all ties with my mom, then fine, I’ll do it, we have no relationship now anyway. Just tell me what you want because I don’t want to play these messed-up games with you again.” She’s trying to sound strong and confident, but her body is literally vibrating, tremors racking her limbs.

“You,” I say simply.

“What?”

“I want you.”

“Why? Is it just because I don’t want you? Surely I’m not the only girl who’s said she’s not interested?”

“You’re mine, Starling, you’re my little bird and you always have been, since the moment I laid eyes on you on your first day at GAA. I waited a year to even find out your name, then as soon as you were a sophomore, I made you mine. You might have run from me and I might have allowed it, but you’ve never been free, little bird. I’ve kept you tethered the last two years, let you think you could fly away, but you couldn’t, the only place I’ll ever let you fly is back to me where you belong.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Ever had that feeling like you’re being watched?”

She visibly tenses despite her trembling, and I smile.

“That was your security detail. Since the moment you left Green Acres and boarded a plane to Maine for Christmas, there’s been a team of men following you. Every thing you’ve done, every place you’ve gone, every person you’ve spoken to, it’s been reported back to me.”

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