Page 80 of Splitting Secrets
I wasn’t lying when I told her that she had claimed me that night. When she straddled my face and allowed me to fuck her with my shadows—in my truest form—she strapped a collar onto my entire fucking being and clipped it with a short leash. I no longer exist without her.
The only reason I haven’t come back to this house is because I’m working overtime to turn the Syndicate’s attention in the other direction. They were inching too close, so I had to pull back.
I was actually doing my job.
I thought I was leaving her in capable hands, but it seems that was a lapse in judgment on my part.
“You need to let her rest. You’ll only upset her,” Carter tries to say, weakly reaching out to grab my arm and stop me just as I hit the bottom stair.
I turned my glare to his hand on my skin, offering exactly one second for him to peel himself off me before I broke every bone in his body. Lucky for him, his self-preservation instincts are still intact, and he pulls away just in time.
“You don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do with her,” I grind out through clenched teeth.
“She’s my daughter,” he tried to argue.
“She’smine,” I boomed.
Period. Point blank. I won’t reduce her to some term that insufficiently conveys how much she means to me. She’s not my girlfriend or my lover. Not my student or my assistant. Not some random hole to pass the time.
She’s simplymine.There is no room for argument. No word that can hold the weight of what she means to me.
And every single one of these fuckers is nothing but obstacles in my way to her.
What I find when I get to her room devastates me. Weeks of building muscle have been erased, her body returning to the same frail state it was in when I got her into the cabin.
It takes hours of pressing into her psyche, my hands lying against her temples and energy digging in before I find her huddled into a dark recess with a protective orb drawn around her.
Her friends don’t want to leave her side. While I respect their dedication, all they’re doing is distracting me. One paces the floor while another sits across from me, her eyes tracking my every move. The tall girl has been in and out, I assume, to give reports to the Ellerys. She’s been present in a couple of our meetings, so I know they’ve grown close.
Her parents have kept their distance, thankfully recognizing that their presence is part of what’s overwhelmed her, and therefore a problem. The blue-haired girl—who I’m afraid to ask her name because it’s been so long—told me that Sonny was with her mother when it happened. She doesn’t talk much, and waits for me to pull back from Sonny’s mind to recenter myself before she speaks, but her presence across from me is intense and foreboding.
She claims that Constance admitted to bringing up Poppy, and wasn’t shy about letting me know what a fucking idiot she thinks the woman is for doing so.
“She hasn’t even been able to hear her name without shutting down,” she explained to me bitterly during one of my breaks. “We’ve all been avoiding the subject like land mines. If they bothered to pay attention to her for three seconds, they would know that, but they can’t get past their own guilt to care.”
Her brother hums his agreement behind her. I can’t disagree. In the small glimpses I’ve seen, Constance and Carter are having a hard time getting to know their daughter as an adult or a woman who has been through some shit. Shit that could have been avoided if they weren’t too busy trying to save the world.
Later, she must grow more comfortable with me because when I pull away from Sonny, she’s scowling across the bed, arms crossed tightly against her chest. Her brother has stepped out for a nap, so it’s just her and I.
“You better not be whispering some weird voodoo shit into her mind,” she warns, her jaw rigid.
“I’m not.”
“We may not have a lot of power over what’s happening here, but this won’t last forever and all of us are keeping score. I hope you aren’t using her to win this pissing contest with the Midnight Syndicate like the rest of them are.” She narrows her eyes, her chin held high as she conveys the rest of the message.
So, don’t try to pull anything.
I consider her for a brief, unblinking moment. For such a small package, she sure is filled to the brim with dynamite. Even worse than my little nightmare. I know from Griff that she’s been the most difficult to deal with, but I’m realizing how much he’s downplayed her attitude.
And she’s protective over Sonny. That garners enough respect for me to give her an answer.
“If I could pull her out of this and send the four of you away to safety without the chance of someone hunting you, I’d do it.”
That answer appears to please her. “Good. We’ve been through it together—so much that I’d even dare to say it’s bonded us like family.” She points her finger toward the closed door. “And not that sorry excuse for a family sitting downstairs, cowering from their mistakes. If you hurt Sonny, consider it an attack on all four of us. And we don’t respond well to being attacked. ”
My brow quivers, the teasing urge to test her theory sitting at the tip of my tongue.
What would she do if I told her to fuck off? That Sonnyisa weapon for us to do with as we please? That the good of the majority is more important than the good of her and her friends?
