Page 16 of Point of No Return

He doesn’t step out, and I raise a brow until I see why. His father stands at the edge of the balcony, propped upright by his golden cane.

Skar’s eyes never leave his father as he says, “You’re not wearing your ring.”

Glancing at my barren ring finger, I silently curse myself for having forgotten it. I left it on the kitchen counter last night.

“No one will notice.” The words sound as foolish out loud as they had in my head.

Skar narrows a look toward me. “He will.”

He’s talking about his father. There’s no love lost between them- that much is clear, but I still sigh as I reach for his hand. He’s usually wearing rings on at least three fingers, and I smile as I pull the signet ring from his pinky. It fits perfectly on my ring finger, and I grin down at it, wiggling my fingers.

“Don’t worry.” I ignore his frown. “I’ll give it back.”

Wordlessly, he holds out his arm. I take it, strolling into the midnight air alongside him and happily helping myself to a glass of bubbly. We avoid greeting his father immediately, I notice, and I’m too caught up in watching Tyson chat with another man that I don’t realize someone’s approached.

“You truly are as beautiful as they say.” The man grins, eyes traveling over me slowly.

Skar has found his own glass of bubbly, and he takes a heavy swallow, leaving me to fend for myself.

Of course,I’m on my own.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” I tell the man, and he chuckles as he extends a hand, reciting his name like I should know it.

Jamison something.

“I work with Skar,” he tells me, and I smile tightly as another man joins us.

“No one workswithSkar, Jamison.For.We work for him.” The second man laughs before flashing a flirtatious grin my way. “But I agree. You never told us how beautiful your bride-to-be is, Benenati.”

“And she’s Prevyain,” Jamison adds as if I’m not standingright here. My temper burns hot like flame, and I know I’m seconds away from saying something I shouldn’t.

“Have you both placed your bets?” I feign interest as they take turns explaining how they’ve done their market research on which horse’s chances compare best this season.

All nonsensical, condescending bullshit that makes my head swim.

When conversation veers back to us, to the wedding- this sham of a business deal- I drop Skar’s arm, excusing myself as I stroll towards a more empty stretch of the balcony.

Lifting my hair from my neck, I let the cool breeze wick away the heat as I glance over the track below. The track lights glare in vivid contrast to the starless night sky. Though the races haven’t started yet, the commentators blare over the speakers several stories below.

I relish the sound of the voices, the scent on the earth, the feeling of it all. I yearn to be down below, in the chaos of it all rather than up here, pretending at propriety with people I’ve never met. I sense someone behind me, and I bow when I turn to find Tyson.

“Ever been to the races before?” he asks, motioning me closer. I kiss either of his cheeks, swallowing back the urge to cough at the scent of his piney cologne. Likely masking the smell of the hospice on his breath. He’s still smiling when I pull back.

“It’s my first,” I tell him. “I didn’t know you were a fan.”

“Indeed, I am. My horse, Colonel, is racing tonight. He’s the white Arabian. Red rider.”

I raise my glass to him. “Didn’t know you had skin in the game.”

He swipes a hand over his skull, scratching his head as he gazes down at the track. “I make it a point to choose my games wisely. Horse racing is fairly… low stakes.”

“Really?” I say just as the elevator doors open, and Aleks appears with the brunette from before. Her lipstick is an absolute mess, and she stumbles after him, clearly drunk off her ass. Tyson twists, frowning at the sight. I continue. “My father always says the opposite.”

Tyson gives me a look that seems entirely too vacant but eventually nods. “That is why your mother is usually the one in charge, yes?”

I bite back the retort on the edge of my tongue, but my stomach flips at the mention of her, at the insinuation- not at all untrue- hidden in his words. It’s not entirely a threat. Merely a test to see if I’ll bite back.

“If I recall…” I feel the heat of Skar’s chest at my back, and I try not to tense at the closeness of it. “Things were much the same when Lorelai was alive, Tyson.”

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