It made me wonder if she was dreaming about me.
Anya
Languidly stretching, I reached out to feel the soft linen—this wasn’t my bed.
Lifting my head off the pillow, I peeked over the duvet and sensed Cassius before I saw him in the corner where he sat in an armchair.
His focus completely on the book he had open on his lap. Looking as fresh and as complicated as I usually found him. His finger curled over his lower lip, deep in thought. Twinkles of morning light flitted over him, a reflection from the shadowy outline of leaves coming from the oak tree outside the window.
Sun rays were flooding in too harshly, along with that shock of pain in my head reminding me I’d discovered his liquor cabinet—more precisely, his stash of vodka. I replayed all that had happened last night.
What I could remember, anyway. Me over his shoulder as he carried me to bed—his.
Peeking below the covers, reassured to see I was wearing a tank top. With no memory of putting it on, I assumed Cassius had stripped me naked. Something told me he’d been decent about it.
The reason I’d tried to dive to the bottom of a bottle flashed into view as raw and agonizing as that moment I’d overheard Ridley telling Cassius my parents weren’t coming for me.
No one was.
Grief intertwined with my insides. How would I ever come to terms with being hated so much by my own parents? A wall of grief hit me. A futility I’d tried to deny. This pain would never lift. It melded with each cell of my body bringing a new bitterness.
Dark and mysterious eyes were now on me.
“Good morning,” said Cassius, half-amused and half-chastising.
“How long have you been there?”
He stretched his arms over his head and curved his spine, answering with, “A while.”
Something told me he’d been here all night. The clues were easy to decipher. He was still wearing his clothes from yesterday, and his lush hair was messed up as though he’d spent the late hours running his fingers through it.
Glancing at the bedside table, I saw the gift laid out from the gods—two Tylenol and a tall glass of water. I reached for it and gladly swallowed them and the water, quenching my thirst, self-consciously wiping a few droplets off my chin.
He frowned his concern. “How do you feel?”
“Never better.” I lied, looking around his room.
It made me wonder why he’d brought me here and not the sparse bedroom meant to be mine.
“Can I get you anything?”
I frowned his way. His kissable lips were vaguely annoying, as was his attempt at caring for someone other than himself. This new side was unsettling, or maybe this was the side I’d never seen before. Like another fragment of the complicated man revealing itself.
I’d rather get lost in his mesmerizing eyes than be reminded of last night.
He pushed to his feet. “Want breakfast?”
“French toast.”
“Seriously?” he let out a chuckle.
“It’s the ultimate cure.”
“You think you’re up for eating that?”
“I only had two drinks.” I think.
Living in a gilded cage—and I didn’t mean this one, I stole my rebellious moments where I could. Frequently sneaking gulps from my dad’s liquor cabinet. I wasn’t a stranger to booze. The usual suspects easily to go down were Bailey’s, Godiva Chocolate, and a swig of Grand Marnier when shit got too much. And shit was always too much.
Cassius looked concerned.
Pushing myself up, I added, “You have the ingredients.”
He strolled to the end of the bed, and his critical eyes bored down on me. “I’m surprised you aren’t hanging over a toilet right now.”
I shooed him backward with a wave of my hands to give me some room to get out of bed. Sitting on the edge and waking up a little more.
Cassius threw a robe on the bed for me to put on. “Use that.”
“Nice of you to watch over me last night. Didn’t need to.”
He didn’t look at me. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
Within minutes, I’d made it back to my bedroom. Freshening up in the bathroom and wiping away any evidence of a hangover from last night—or at least trying to. Picking up the hairbrush Cassius had left for me, and catching myself in the mirror, the realization again hit me—I’d been abandoned by my family.
I cringed at my reflection. I looked like hell.
Lips trembling, I tried to steady my rising panic. Refusing to crumble under this crushing pressure. No, it’s a lie. Dad would want Cassius to believe they weren’t coming while they hatched a secret plan.
Take the advantage. The element of surprise.
If I’d learned anything from seeing my father operate, it was that he was ruthless. He might look like he was cold, but deep down, he cared deeply for us.
Trusting them was all I had left.
I found my newly washed jeans and T-shirt and slid my feet into my Converse shoes. Heading out of the room with more questions than answers.