Page 65 of Unhinged

"Letting you get away with everything."

I smirk. "Then I’m definitely not spoiled."

Matvei doesn’t let me get away with anything. Not even the things I should.

By the time we reach his house, the unease I felt in the square hasn’t left me. If anything, it’s worse.

I’m breathing hard when we make it to the front door.

He stands behind me, watching. "You’re shaking." His voice is steady. Controlled. "Why are you shaking?"

"I told you?—"

"I don’t care what you told me."

That’s the worst part. He doesn’t lose control, and somehow, that makes him terrifying.

He leans in. "What did you see back there?"

"Nothing."

I snap away from him, wrapping my arms around myself, shielding. Grounding. "Just let me go in. I want space."

Silence.

I don’t expect him to listen.

But then, the door opens, and I step inside when he gestures for me to go first.

It’s warm in here. Bright. Clean. And I immediately feel my pulse begin to slow.

I wasn’t prepared for the way the word home would hit me.

But I’ve been living a nomadic existence for so fucking long.

And I’m angry with myself for even wanting this.

What I love about being able to change my appearance and slip from place to place is that I don’t have to put down roots.

I’ve spent my life running—from control, from the identity forced upon me by my father before he died.

It’s made me put my guard up. Made me use my skills in deception and forgery to craft my ultimate escape plans.

It’s forced me to trust no one.

Maybe… maybe I’m tired of running.

Maybe I don’t want to anymore.

Does that mean I’m giving up?

I won’t give up. I can’t.

I need to stay until an opportunity comes. Until I can run again.

Matvei doesn’t love me.

I’m only a tool to him.

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