Page 39 of Splitting Secrets
Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him that yet. Am I playing my cards too early?
Exhaling, I roll my eyes toward the ceiling to buy myself some time to think.
“Tell me now, or I’ll go out there and force them to do it,” he threatens, extending his arm across the space to point at the door. At my friends, beyond it.
“No,” I growl, stepping toward him. “They won’t be used against me anymore. No one touches them.”
It’s an overreaction I blame on lack of sleep and proper nutrition. But my body still responds as if he’s already stepped out of the room and grabbed one of them.
The overhead light begins to flicker again as my anger rises. I refuse to move my gaze toward them, but Raze’s eyes lift upward, brows pulled together in confusion. The left side of his mouth slowly lifts, his frown loosening into an excited gleam.
“Would you look at that?” he muses, his smile broadening as my rage burns hotter and the lights blink out longer.
“That’s not me,” I insist. It’s a stupid, obvious lie. But what else can I do? I’m losing my grip on reality.
“Oh, I know for a fact that it is. I just didn’t think you were capable. Unless...” He rears his head back and really, truly looks at me. “No,” he dismisses weakly.
“What?” I try to demand, but my vision starts to cloud and I lose my balance. Raze crosses the room in an instant, holding his arms out like he’s ready to catch me, but I swat his hands away.
“Is this why you look so exhausted? You burned yourself out?”
“I’m not burned out,” I try to say, but the words slur together into an incoherent jumble of sounds. I want to add that I look exhausted because I’ve been imprisoned by him and his little cult but the words won’t leave my throat.
He tries to reach for me again, and I dodge him.
“Sit down. Please,” he begs, running his hand through his hair instead.
As much as I’d love to argue back, I lose the fight the moment my legs weaken and I have to catch myself on the bed.
“What did they say?” His tone is gentler this time—less of a demand.
I allow myself to fall back and stare up at the spinning ceiling as I recall, “They wanted to make sure I was watching. Said it was a message for me from the Midnight Syndicate.”
“Fuck.”
I crane my neck to look at him. “That wasn’t even the creepiest part.”
He tenses. “What else happened?”
“Matilda...she said the new Supreme is here and none of them would be spared.” My eyes are glued to his face, watching every minuscule movement his muscles make. I’ve spent enough time with him to know that he won’t give me an obvious reaction.
As expected, he keeps his expression schooled, offering nothing. It’s the most obvious sign that he does, in fact, knowsomething.
“Who was she talking to?” His tone is conversational.
My head feels a little steadier, so I sit up in my spot and carefully explain, “Those two maniacs. It spooked them. They killed her immediately after.”
Large, strong hands cup my jawline and force me to look directly at him. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m sorry for everything you’ve gone through.”
I narrow my eyes. “Are you, though?”
He blanches. “Of course, I am.”
Jerking away from his touch, I scoot backward. “I shouldn’t have told you any of this...”
“Why?”
“Because you could turn on us at any moment.”
