Dangerous Temptation (Dark Dream 1)

There was silence then, because I didn’t know how to respond to Tiernan like this. I’d never met this man, not even at my mother’s funeral, not when he should have been kind but wasn’t.

“You like kids,” I hazarded a guess.

His lips thinned into a pale line, but he nodded tersely, sitting stiffly on the edge of Brando’s bed like he was suddenly aware he didn’t want to be there.

“Dr. Crown will be here to stitch him up and check him out, but if we need to do further testing, we will.”

“It’s expensive,” I warned, because I’d been researching compulsively for years, wishing we had the money to pay for anything more than halfway decent drugs.

Wishing Aida had saved some of Dad’s money for a rainy day instead of spending it on lingerie and sweet perfumes.

“Lucky for you, I know good doctors and I have the means to pay for them,” he said superiorly.

“What’s the catch?” I demanded, irritated that this cruel man would be Brando’s savior and not me. It was irrational and so childish. I should just be grateful, just feel blessed. But it rankled to know that Tiernan could do this for us without even blinking an eye, without even caring about us that much, if at all.

He studied me with those predator’s eyes, that king’s arrogance on his well-bred features. I wanted to punch him and hug him in equal measure.

“There is a ball coming up, I want to introduce you to society there.”

“That’s it?” I said, after waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“That’s it.”

I glared at him, trying to read beneath his skin and failing. Usually, I was a good judge of character, but at every opportunity, Tiernan stymied me. I hated it, but I was also unhealthily intrigued by his many mysteries.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“I’m not going to school today,” I pressed, still waspish because he was being too nice, too reasonable and it was making my head throb and my heart pound. “I’m staying with Brando.”

He gave me a condescending look. “I’ve already called the headmaster. You’ll start tomorrow.” He stood up then, all-business and cold impartiality once more. “I won’t have you using Brando’s illness as an excuse to slack off, though. I expect you to get straight As and exhibit exemplary behavior if you want to remain in this house.”

“If you kick me out, I’ll take Brando with me,” I threatened mildly as he turned away, but fear saturated my chest like battery acid.

“No. You won’t,” he said simply on the way out the door, and even though it wasn’t the first time he’d threatened me, it was definitely the most terrifying.

I held Brando for a long time, questioning everything—was Tiernan a hero or a villain, this house a cage or a home, my life over before it had even started or filled with new opportunity—until I fell into a fitful, confused sleep next to him. I dreamt of the reaper coming to get me, only he offered me a rose instead of death, and when I woke up, someone had left a new Hulk action figure on Brando’s bedside table.

There was a note scrawled on expensive paper in slightly uneven script.

Brando,

What do you think the Hulk, Deadpool, Jessica Jones, and Captain Marvel have in common?

You’re all incredible individuals destined for great things despite the poor cards life has dealt you. We have no doubt you’ll achieve great things just like your favorite superheroes. Adversity only made them stronger and wiser, as it will with you.

From The Gentlemen of Lion Court

That night Henrik, Ezra, and Walcott turned the dusty front parlor, the only room with a television in the entire mansion, into a movie theater for Brando and declared a Marvel movie marathon.

Brando, still sluggish but much recovered after a checkup and stitch-up by Dr. Crown, was over the moon. Happier than I’d ever seen him as he sat on the velvet couch tucked into Ezra’s hulking body, Walcott on the other side of him holding the popcorn they shared. Henrik sat in a chair by himself, but he was the most vocal, making everyone laugh with his commentary.

I sat on the floor at Brando’s feet because I needed the space so they wouldn’t see the tears that haunted my eyes. So they wouldn’t know that this was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for Brando.

When Walcott leaned down to offer me popcorn, I whispered thickly, “Thank you for this, it was a great idea.”

“You should thank the boss,” he replied, squeezing my shoulder. “It was his.”

Something gunked up my chest, made my heart beat too slow and my breath too shallow. I spent the rest of the night waiting for Tiernan to show his face, maybe even join us.

But he never did.

I was as grateful for his absence as I was oddly despondent over it.