Page 14 of Widow's Walk

It was my father who taught me that power does not shout, it whispers.

“I appreciate you hosting this,” I say only to Anthony.

“It’s the least we could do, getting Sinclair off our hands,” he says with a hollow chuckle.

“You let her leave the house with that hair? Why didn’t you tell us you were having such a difficult time controlling her?” Lincoln, the eldest, asks without a shred of interest. Only entitlement.

The ache in my jaw is back as I grit my molars and bite my tongue. I don’t even want them looking at her. Don’t want them speaking her name like it’s theirs to use. I don’t want them thinking they still have any kind of hold over her.

The surge of possession crashes over me. An onslaught of protectiveness. It’s white-hot and unforgiving, nearly knocking the breath out of me. I have to pause to catch my breath. I can’t let them see me unravel.

My gaze strays over to Royce briefly. Just enough to catch the glint in his eyes as he scans the room. There’s something offabout him. Not just cruel or corrupted but corroded. Something deeply rotten behind those eyes.

“I can certainly give you some tips.” Royce’s words are slightly slurred. Already intoxicated on dark liquor.

“I’m having no trouble at all with her. The color is hardly offensive,” I say, thinking that I’m telling a little white lie when it isn’t a lie at all. It’s already grown on me. All of it has grown on me.

Her father starts prattling on again, Lincoln chiming in with overly practiced superiority. But I can’t hear a word they say. I’m too focused on Royce and how his black eyes are sweeping the crowd like a predator sniffing out the prey.

Sinclair hasn’t returned yet, and instinctively—no, absolutely—it’s her he’s searching for.

That primal protective instinct where Sinclair is concerned, bristles to life like a beast stirred from sleep. Death will be too good for Royce. He needs to suffer. I want his blood boiled, not just spilled. I will peel him apart, scream by scream.

Mercy won’t even be a shadow in the room.

Royce slithers out of the room like an uncouth snake, and I give it all but two minutes to follow pursuit. Sinclair still hasn’t resurfaced, and that creates an anxiety in me that wraps around my spine like a warning.

Chapter six

Blackwell

Idon’t waste any time with politeness.

I walk away from Sinclair’s father and brother mid-conversation without a word. I’ve swallowed enough of their bile for one night.

As soon as I step outside of the main room, my senses take me opposite the restrooms. My gut tells me right away, something is wrong.

The further I venture down the hallway, the thicker the shadows become. The noise from the ballroom fades into a pulse behind me, and my alarm bells ring louder.

My strides lengthen, and my pace quickens. Then I hear it. Royce’s voice, the wrong tone with Sinclair’s name wrapped in it.

“I bet you’re already spreading those legs for him, aren’t you?” I hear him sneer with genuine vehemence. “Fucking whore.”

Something in me quietly stirs. Like the click of a safety being switched off. But I remain rooted, even though it might kill me.

“I said fuck off, Royce,” Sinclair snaps back with more emotion I’ve heard from her yet.

The joints in my hands are stiff with restraint when I register the sound of a scuffle. Everything inside me screams for me to intervene, but Sinclair remains such a mystery to me. I might learn more by watching what happens in the dark.

There’s a maniacal cackle that I know belongs to Sinclair. “You’re still obsessed with me. Still trying to convince yourself I ever wanted it,” she spits. “Pathetic. You’re just the sickness I survived.”

Royce literally growls. “You only survived because I let you. But don’t act like you’ve forgotten about me. That you’ll ever forget about me.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten.” She pauses, and I swear my stomach turns. “And when I think about you, it makes mesick. You have always made mesick. You’re sick in the head. Always have been.” The emotion leaks into her caustic words again, but there’s something deeper behind them. I don’t know how much longer I can stand here in silence.

His cackle sends a chill down my spine. “Oh, yeah?”

“I swear to God, I will fucking kill you! Get the fuck off me!” she screams, voice shaking with fury.

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