Page 16 of Liars and Liaisons

“Get dressed,” he finally says, walking to the bathroom door and yanking it open with a single jerk. He doesn’t look back at me, his shoulders stiff and unmoving. “I’ll have a driver take you to the residence of your choosing.”

The door closes with a firm, final thud.

My fingers shake as I collect myself and shake out my dress, still not sure what’s happening or what to do about it. Information hurtles toward me at the speed of light, and all I can do is dodge the pieces, hoping that whatever hits the ground makes enough sense for me to piece together.

I stay in place for several long moments, staring at the closed door. Afraid that he might come back and considering what I’ll do if he does.

In the end, fifteen minutes pass.

He doesn’t return.

I get dressed in silence and leave.

4

I don’t feel particularlybad about what I did.

In truth, I haven’t felt bad about anything since Sydney, and even then, my melancholy is more resigned to the fact that her death seems to have permanently altered my ability to make music. She’s impeding my life in the most inconvenient way, and if she wasn’t dead already, I would strangle her until I felt the last little breath escape her lips, just so she could have a taste of what it feels like to be forced to live while you can’t get oxygen to your lungs.

But I don’t feel bad about what I did to Violet. What I’m going to do to her.

Perhaps I would if I believed her wholenaive and innocentact, but for her to have been involved with my brother for any amount of time would require at least a shade of darkness residing in her heart. If she’s anything like him, she’s just really good at hiding it.

I watch from the bedroom window as she exits the hotel building. Janus, one half of my security team leads, greets her as she approaches the curb, then ushers her into a waiting blacked-out SUV. She pauses before climbing in the backseat, glancing directly up at me, though I don’t think she knows I’m standing here.

There’s a momentary flashback to the day I first saw her outside the James estate, the situation eerily similar to this one. Now, I’m certain she’s aware of the evil within.

If not yet, she will be.

My skin itches with the need to retreat, to surround myself with the ghosts of Duris, so I gather my things quickly and leave the bedroom.

In the adjoining suite, I find a tattooed man lounging on the pullout sofa, plucking at a black Viper guitar with fingers covered in silver rings. His brown hair curls slightly around his ears and droops onto his forehead, even as he stares up at the skylights in the ceiling with silver eyes, humming softly to himself.

My feet pause, almost refusing to let me through the door. Interactions with my nephew over the last few years have been limited on my end. Outside of investing in and managing the board of the record label he and his mother started, I stay as far out of his life as possible.

The kid struggled a lot, growing up in the spotlight, and in recent years, he seems to have turned things around. I have no desire to taint his progress with my devolution into despair and ruin.

A strand of hair brushes my temple, but when I reach up, it’s gone. The itching sensation remains, and I scratch with a fervor that makes my skin ache.

“Would probably be easier to avoid me if you went down the fire escape,” Aiden says, craning his neck over the arm of the sofa and flashing me a boyish grin. “Aren’t you supposed to be good at sneaking around? Most people didn’t even know you were here last night.”

Most people.I wonder if he’s aware that I was with Violet or that she’s Nathaniel’s ex. If so, I’m sure he’s not the only one who knows—and the fact that Nathaniel might know I spent the night with her fills me with a perverted sense of glee.

I wonder if it’s already eating him alive.

Sighing, I step into the room and cross the floor, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my pants. The same tailored pair from last night since I hadn’t planned on staying out overnight.

“This coming from a man who once tried to evade all of New York City just to take some girl on a date.”

“I did evade the public actually. But is that what you were doing last night? I didn’t peg you as thewine and dine themtype.” Aiden chuckles, cradling the guitar in his lap as he pushes into a sitting position.

He twists toward me, and I note the black hoodie he has on—where a photo of the girl in question is plastered across the entirety of his torso, her rose-pink hair and blue eyes on display.

“I’m not. Nor am I interested in dating at all and certainly not someone I’d have to work this hard at to keep my privacy, if your presence alone is any indication.”

“Lack of privacy isn’t always such a bad thing.” He points at the photo. “Worked out pretty well, if you ask me.”

“Jesus Christ.” I can’t imagine being obsessed with someone to the point of needing to wear their face on my clothing when they aren’t around.

---