Page 68 of The Reckoning
“Fine,” he bites out. “But I’m not letting her out of my sight.”
His possessive tone ignites something ugly in my chest. “She’s not your property, Arson. She doesn’t belong to you.”
“Or to you,” he counters.
“I don’t belong to anyone,” Lilian interjects, voice tight with controlled anger. “And I’m standing right here, so stop talking about me like I’m not in the room.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, embarrassed by my behavior. “You’re right.”
Lee whistles low. “Damn, Hayes. Never thought I’d see the day you apologized to anyone.”
“Shut up, Lee,” I growl, in no mood for his commentary.
“And he’s back.” Lee grins, unfazed. “The Aries Hayes we know and tolerate.”
Sebastian clears his throat. “If we’re staying the night, I’ll need to make some calls. Reschedule my morning appointments.”
“Do it.” I nod. “And order food. I’m starving.”
“Pizza?” Drew suggests, already pulling out his phone. “Like old times?”
“Like old times,” I agree, a strange nostalgia washing over me. It feels bizarre, this attempt at normalcy in the midst of chaos. Playing at being college friends again when everything has changed.
As the others fall into familiar patterns—Lee setting up his equipment, Sebastian making calls, Drew ordering food—I notice Lilian slipping toward the door.
“Where are you going?” I ask, sharper than intended.
She flinches at my tone, and guilt immediately floods me. “Just getting some air,” she says. “There’s a lot of testosterone in here.”
“I’ll come with you,” Arson says, already moving to her side.
“No.” She holds up a hand, stopping him. “I need a minute. Alone. I’ll be right outside, okay? You can watch me through the window if you’re that worried.”
Before either of us can object, she’s gone, the door closing softly behind her.
“Nice job, Brother,” Arson says, contempt dripping from every word. “Very smooth.”
“Like you’re any better,” I shoot back. “Hovering over her like she’s going to break if you look away for two seconds.”
“At least I don’t snap at her for breathing wrong.”
“I didn’t—” I cut myself off, recognizing the futility of arguing. “Forget it.”
I move to the window, watching as Lilian steps out onto the drive. She grips the railing of the steps, head tilted back to look at the pale imprint of the moon rising into the dusk, and something in my chest constricts painfully.
She looks lost. Overwhelmed. And I helped put that look on her face with my impatience, my jealousy, and my inability to control my temper.
One more failure to add to my growing list. One more reason I don’t deserve her forgiveness, her faith, her—whatever it is she feels for me.
Behind me, the room fills with the sounds of planning and preparation. My friends—if I can still call them that—mobilize to help despite everything. Arson, my twin, my mirror, watching me with eyes that see too much. And outside, Lilian, bearing the weight of secrets and lies not of her making.
We are all trapped in a web of Hayes family manipulations. All of us are seeking truth, seeking justice, seeking some kind of resolution to the mess our lives have become.
I just hope we find it before Patricia’s plans come to fruition. Before whatever “procedure” she has planned for Lilian. Before the backers lose patience and take matters into their own hands.
Before the fragile truce between Arson and me shatters completely.
Time is running out. I can feel it.
