Bossed Around - Page 27

“I went to his room, planning on demanding your freedom. You didn’t belong here, a captive in this cold, dark place. People like me…we belong in crypts. But not my angel.” His eyelids fall completely, hiding his dark chocolate irises from view. “I walked through his bedroom door, he took one look at me and…”

“You gave him the heart attack.”

Duncan hangs his head, confirming my theory. “I should have known better.”

Until today, I believed my uncle Gardner meant well. That he cared for me. Then I went outside in the world and saw he’d been lying. That I’d been kept from school, from life in general, because of his beliefs that people are evil. That malevolence roams the streets and sucks people in at will. The truth was…the evil was right here all along. That’s why he believed so staunchly in it. He was living it. Helping put this deadly drug into the world. While his dumb niece suspected nothing.

Now Duncan has done the same. Carried on without telling me the truth, leading me along blindly. For that, I want to rage at him. Slap his beloved face. Go out into the courtyard and paint and scream and wail over my scorned pride.

I’m not scared of him. Maybe that’s insane. He’s just admitted to being an unintentional murderer. He’s been living in my basement, watching me as I sleep. Stealing my things. And yet, I still yearn for him. My instinct tells me that being in his arms is still the safest place I could be.

Maybe I am gullible.

Maybe I am an idiot.

Nothing I knew to be true is real. It’s all lies—and I fell for them.

I wiggle and shove until Duncan sets me down. He watches me back away with a panic-stricken expression, shifting on his feet, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Thea—”

“Go. Leave.” I swipe at the moisture escaping my eyes. “Now!”

“No.” He pales rapidly, reaching for me, but I dance out of his desperate grasp. “Please, don’t send me away. I just wanted to give you freedom, angel. I didn’t mean to kill him—”

“I know you didn’t. I know. And I can see now that he was keeping me a prisoner. I can see that.” My tears are causing him great visible distress, but I can’t stop them from falling. “Maybe I even hate him for it, especially now that I know he’d created his own paranoia. That he contributed to the society he found so terrible. But it’s the lying I can’t forgive. You lied to me, just like him. I’ve been manipulated by everyone in my life—and I thought you were the first person to give me control. But you were controlling me, too, weren’t you? Making me believe what you wanted me to believe?”

“No…” He grasps at his chest. “No, I was going to tell you everything. I never thought you could love me. I never expected you to even tolerate me. I was just getting used to believing this was real.” Shaking his head slowly, eyes tortured, he searches for words. “I owed you the truth, lass. I wouldn’t have kept it from you past today. Please believe me.”

No. I’m too angry.

My pride is in ribbons at my feet.

What is truth? I don’t even know how to recognize it.

As much as I want to run to my giant, I have to think. I have to think and grieve over my blindness and how I’ve been used. Lied to. By everyone I’ve ever loved.

It hurts the most coming from Duncan. By far.

He made me feel so free. Made me let go. Open up. Spread my wings.

When all the while, I was being fed what was necessary to keep me happy.

Blissfully ignorant.

“I don’t want to see you ever again,” I whisper, choppily, my chest turning hollow. “Leave the gallery, Duncan. Now. I mean it.”

“I cannot.”

“You have to.”

“Nay, I can’t be apart from you, Thea.” His tone is grave. “It will kill me.”

I’m too torn up to hear him. To process his words. I don’t want anyone’s voice in my head ever again. Words only manipulate. They influence me into wasting years of my life. Believing things that aren’t true. I just need to be alone. I just need silence and solitude—because obviously I’m the only person I can trust.

I lift my chin somehow, even though my heart is breaking and tears are spilling down my cheeks in rivulets. “Go. Now.”

It’s an order and he’s programmed to obey me. But he doesn’t execute the demand easily. With a hoarse sound, he stumbles down the black hallway toward the rear entrance, staggering, catching himself on the stone walls, barely able to remain on his feet. The sight pries open my ribs, my heart demanding I call out to him, make him come back, but he’s gone before I can find my voice.

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