Page 71 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
“You’d better see what he wants,” Max mutters. “I’ll stay here with Gerrie.”
I don’t want to risk drama. It’s been a long, dull day, and I’m ready for it to end. I haven’t spoken with Alfie properly since my walk of shame around campus. He probably thinks we’re still friends, despite all I learned about him at B.A.R. I take a few surreptitious steps back in case my babysitter watches from a window up higher.
Keeping my gaze ahead, I settle beside Alfie and wait for him to speak. His nearness makes me sick. It’s like I sense his duplicity in the air.
“Are you well?” he asks quietly.
“Fine.”
He pauses. “It’s been hard to catch a private moment with you lately.”
It’s because you’re an asshole.“I’ve been busy.”
“I saw you a few nights ago,” he murmurs. “At B.A.R.”
My lungs seize.Play it cool, Willow.
“Oh?” I reply.
“There’s something I need to tell you. About that night.”
I relax slightly. His tone sounds worried, not accusatory. “What is it?”
“The enchantment didn’t work for me,” he admits. “I remember some things and thought you should know that your Radiants took advantage of you.”
My brows knit. “What do you mean?”
“I saw you.” He clears his throat. “I saw you caught between two of them on the dancefloor.”
Is this a test? Does he still think we’re engaged? Or is he probing to see if I’m willingly involved with the Six?
“What do you mean, caught?” I ask.
“Tell me you’re not involved with them,” he whispers.
“Alfie, what did you see?” I glare, hoping he misreads my anger for fear.
He hesitates, then leans closer. “They drugged you and forced themselves on you.Sexually. I saw it all.”
Shock courses through me.
I was definitely a willing participant, but also, how the fuck did he see anything? Bodin and Legion had taken special care to hide the details from anyone around us, except maybe for thepart where they licked me off Bodin’s fingers. I guess that’s not hard to interpret.
Wait.Hesent me to Milford, a known abuser who drugged his conquests. Now he’s acting concerned, playing the virtuous knight. Does he think I’m clueless?
“So you watched it happen?” I test him back. “And yet did nothing to help me?”
“I couldn’t,” his eyes widen. “There were two of them.”
That sick feeling continues to churn in my stomach. He mistakes the source of my expression. I want to start poking holes in his story, to ask him what he was doing on that dancefloor himself but remind myself I don’t give a fuck about him anymore. He’s already whispering how he’s gaining Goodfellow’s trust, has more charms than ever, and will get me out of the House of Shadow if it’s the last thing he does.
“They even manipulated you into maiming two innocent women,” he continues. “You went wild and attacked them for no reason while they laughed. You weren’t yourself.”
Not myself? That night—apart from the fight, well, half the fight—I was happy. It’s the happiest I’ve been in a while. What did I look like before that he couldn’t recognize that person was me?
“Alfie, I’m fine,” I show him my healed fists. “If I was brawling, wouldn’t I be wounded?”
“They erased the evidence,” he looks at me like I’m dumb.
