“She was a good person. I can tell you that much. And like you, she always saw the good in everyone, even when they didn’t see it themselves.”
“She saw the good in you.”
“Yes, but in the end, it wasn’t enough.” Desperate to change the subject, I steer the conversation toward my brother. “Nic and Celia would like us to come for a visit soon. Especially Celia.”
“Really?” Aspen perks up at the idea. “I’d love to!”
“I’ll talk to them and plan something.” Although thinking about it now, I’m sure Celia has already planned a vacation with a full itinerary.
“See. You couldn’t have been that bad in the past. Your family loves you.”
All I can muster up in response is a tight smile. Yes, Nic and Celia somehow stuck by me all these years, but there used to be no love at all between us. As a matter of fact, the first time I met Celia, I loathed her so much that I wanted to kill her in the most gruesome way I could imagine.
“Do you even know what your family has done? I guess the better question is, do you even care?” I spit the words out with so much venom I can almost taste the bitterness on my tongue. Her whole body is shivering, recoiling from me in fear. She looks so small and vulnerable, and I relish knowing how easily I could kill her right now. How easily I could wrap my hands around her slender neck and end her miserable life. Maybe I’ll fuck her dead body after, just for fun.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she tells me in her small, meek voice. Fucking liar.
I charge forward, crossing her small cell until my boots kiss the edge of the mattress. She scoots away as far as she can, cowering in the corner like a trapped animal.
“You’re part of that disgusting family. The only one with decency was your sister, who knew when it was her time to die.”
Celia flinches at the mention of her dead sister, and the pain in her eyes only gets me more excited.
“I should kill you right now. Slit your throat and send your body back to your daddy.”
That’s just one of the many memories that haunt me. Sometimes, I still can’t believe she forgave me for the way I treated her. Then again, my brother did worse, and she married him anyway. I suppose real love is seeing the worst in someone and still choosing to stay.
Aspen sighs. “I guess I’ll go meet Quinton for dinner before he comes looking for me.”
“I’ll have to grab some dinner myself soon. Maybe we can meet up at the gym this weekend. I need to teach you some more moves just in case you need to kick Quinton’s ass.”
“Yes, please, teach me. I can’t wait to see his face when I take him down.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing that myself.” I chuckle.
Aspen gets up from her seat, giving me one more big smile before she leaves my office. Every time I see her, I can’t help but think about how much I have missed, and all that time I will never be able to get back. I try not to dwell on it or let the guilt from that night when she was taken eat away at me. All we have now is the future, and I’ll do whatever it takes not to fuck it up like I did my past.
11
DELILAH
Today, boredom has been my biggest problem. Boredom and the countless questions I have about the elusive headmaster of Corium and what he wants with me.
Is this more of Quinton Rossi’s doing? Does he want to keep me close, just in case? At least being locked away means he can’t get to me.
Unless Lucas gave him a key.
And they want me to take classes here? There has to be a catch, an alternative motive. He wants me for something. Why else would he keep me alive? No matter the reason, I’ll have the possibility of running into Quinton and his little girlfriend—no, wife, he called her his wife. Plenty of stuff to look forward to.
I hope Aspen doesn’t expect me to be thankful that she let me live. Or worse, wants to be my friend. I’m not the giggly girlfriend type, for one thing. And I don’t need her holding it over my head. How could I be friends with somebody out of obligation?
I must doze off at some point because the sound of a door opening and closing makes me jump. What time is it? How long have I been here? Yet another way for a mind to be tortured: the absence of a way to mark time. No windows, no clock, no way of knowing where I sit in relation to the day or even the week. When the hell is it?