Chapter Twenty-Six
Alex
Harried voices carry from the foyer below, dragging my attention away from my precalculus homework and the distracted notes I am taking in the margins about Tomas’s little brush with death. The image of him with vomit decorating his chin and his skin so pale that it looked like paper made my stomach turn, my appetite dissolving as quickly as a couple of mints in a carbonated drink.
It fizzles in my gut, bubbles taking over my throat and making it hard to breathe. The way he looked up at me with cloudy eyes, the way his lashes fluttered, and the haggard rise and fall of his chest impressed my mind. They’re impossible to erase, those awful memories, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m on the brink of losing him all over again.
But fuck me, I’m behind on math class.
“It’s over,” my mother states firmly at the bottom of the stairs. She drops a bag at Amos’s feet as one of our maids sets a pair of luggage cases next to the door. “You’re not welcome here anymore.”
“You must have lost your mind, pumpkin,” Amos says sweetly. “Are you still mad about last night? I can make it up to you. Easily.” The sinister grin he wears doubles my nausea. “All you have to do is go upstairs and lie down. I’ll handle the rest.”
She snorts. “Like a quick licking session is going to change my mind.”
“Come on, Ophelia. You like the way I please you.”
It’s sickening to think my mother has willingly slept with that pervert, but I choose to push the ill feelings aside in favor of descending the stairs. She’s dumping him. And I don’t want to miss one second of this.
“I don’t need you anymore,” my mother states while crossing her arms over her chest. “Like I would need a leech like you when I have the Somervilles behind me.”
He growls. “They won’t do shit to protect you.”
“They’ll do everything in their power to shield me once Alex marries Parker.”
“She’s not going through with it, you know. Your daughter is as unreliable as a candy wrapper against getting pregnant.”
Mother twitches with annoyance but holds her ground. “You have no idea how strong my daughter is.”
Amos raises his gaze when he hears the stairs creak, indignation darkening his features. “Ah, speak of the devil.”
“I think that’s you,” I shoot back with a sly grin. “Having trouble finding the door?”
Turning his ire to my mother hardly makes her flinch. She stands tall when I join her side, her posture elegant and full of power as she says, “I’ll send the rest of your things when I find them.”
“You can’t get rid of me.”
“I think you’ll find I can…pumpkin.”
He glares sharply at her. “I’ll get you for this.”
“I don’t fucking think so,” I snap. “You’ll do no such thing to my mother.”
“It’s up to you whether to respect me, Alexandra,” he warns. “But you might find that not doing so will earn you nightmares.”
I shrug confidently. “Tell your master that I’m coming for him.”
Laughter peels from his lips, making him appear far crueler than he ever has in front of my mother. In the past, he’s always put on a great show for her, displaying the kind of compassionate fodder that fairy tales are made of. It’s refreshing to see him reveal himself so freely.
Yet it’s alarming, too.
This great revelation comes with a price—and I’m sobered by the realization. I clutch my mother’s arm while we watch Amos gather his things to leave. It takes longer than it should, the two of us aware of how much he’s dragging it out as a way to give us time to redact the decision. But when that doesn’t happen, he sneers at us and marches out of the foyer.
The faint sound of him barking at a servant outside echoes through the door.
“Darling,” she whispers while wrapping her arm around my shoulders, “you shouldn’t have threatened him.”
“I can say the same for you.”