A Death to Seek (Thornes & Roses 3)

I lift my gaze from the casket before me, and I find the women standing on the other side. One is older, her hair still the color of a raven’s wings with a small smattering of silver. She hasn’t got a wrinkle, even though she’s nearing her fifties. The other one, she’s younger, just turned eighteen. The surprise baby that wasn’t planned. She was their pride and joy when she arrived though. Even when they didn’t know what to do with her. Their careers were the focus, but the princess has had a perfect life.

And as I look at her, I can’t deny there’s something intoxicating about her pain.

Her cheeks glisten with tears as she watches her father’s body, incased in expensive wood, get lowered into the earth. His final resting place. I want to smile, but I don’t. There is a time and place for everything.

The part of me, the one I’ve hidden all this time, rears its ugly head. It’s sadistic with its needs. As if a monster resides in my soul, and each time I think about that one night, the one moment I found out about my parent’s non-existent love, I realize it’s always been there.

My father steps forward, making his way over to the grieving widow and her daughter. He doesn’t know my connection. At least, not yet. He’ll learn. His hand takes the older woman’s, holding it as if he’s about to kiss it, but he doesn’t. That would be sacrilege, kissing a widow while her husband is lowered into a hole in the ground. Another smile threatens to break free, but I fight it again.

The girl, she glances up quickly, but when she spots Cassian and me, she lowers her lashes and hides behind her curtain of sleek black hair. Just that one split second, I recognized something in her eyes, a darkness that sings to my soul.

They say, like sees like, I think that’s what I’ve just found. Lucky for me, I’ll have time to learn all her secrets. And I cannot wait. My father continues talking, his eyes never leaving the woman’s, it’s almost as if he’s enamored with her. There’s a familiarity between them, and I wonder briefly if they’re more than business associates.

My stepmother isn’t here. She is visiting her daughter, Nesrin, and Damien in London. To be honest, I would rather be anywhere than here right now. Cassian’s hand on my shoulder offers a squeeze. I can’t look at him. Not right now, because my focus is on my father. He knows I’m watching them. But my older brother doesn’t see what I do. He doesn’t know what I know.

Secrets in Thorne Haven have a way of burying themselves deep in the recesses of the mind. My thoughts are still plagued with the lies and fake smiles that I’ve witnessed. Damien, and Cassian, don’t know why my mother left, and they certainly don’t know I was witness to it all. They think our father is a good man. A bit of a tyrant, but all in all, a good man.

I know better.

I’ve seen the other side.

Suddenly, my attention is caught on movement in the distance, and when I flit my gaze over to the parking lot, I notice a figure partly hidden behind a tree. His watchful gaze is on me as it usually is. This time, my mouth quirks, and I wonder if he can see it.

I have my own secrets. Things I can’t tell anyone about. And even though I know they constantly eat away at my soul, I can’t stop myself from keeping them. When passion ignites, there’s no stopping it. He shifts out of sight, and I offer a look to Cassian to tell him I’m leaving. I can’t stand here any longer.

But as I make my move, Father turns to regard me, then he calls me over as the priest invites everyone to filter around the hole in the ground. Men lift their shovels to fill with dirt before they start the process of covering the wooden box that houses a dead body.

Without question or debate, I head toward my dad, who I know will have something to say about my almost escape. It’s as if he has a tracker on me lately. But when I reach him, and the woman who’s still sniffling beside him, my gaze is dragged back to the girl in black.

Her long hair is sleek straight, like a dark satin curtain. Her black Kohl-rimmed eyes are wide, chocolate brown, and her tanned skin is just a shade lighter than how I like my milky coffee.

Her lips are full, plump with a shimmer, and I wonder if she tastes like the mocha-flavored drink I enjoy. The moment she looks at me, her mouth parting slightly, I realize why she looks so familiar. She’s a pristine princess that enjoys documenting her life on social media. Everything about her is perfect. At least, that’s what she shows the world.