Page 104 of Feed Your Fiends

It’ll make me the winner, and since I’m forced to play, I’m forced to win.

Gant

“Good morning,” I whisper, as a warm body rolls over toward me.

“What the fuck!” Hot breath hisses across my lips as crystal clear eyes hooded a second before pop open to peer at me in the dark.

It’s still pitch black out, but it is one a.m., technically morning.

“Gant?” Silas whispers, sitting up, his hand flying to his heart. “What are you doing in bed with me?”

“I had no idea you’d be in here,” I say, joining him against the headboard. “I was having a sleepover with Sylo, and he told me to pick any bedroom I wanted.”

And I did after he fell asleep from Zedd’s tea and after he showed me the car that killed my mother. The car I refused to get in but pretended to admire with him. The car Dove knew about all along. Bae confirmed my suspicions because his Korean contact is also Rin’s, unbeknownst to her.

It was Rin who drained her bank account to get the registration, insurance, and repair details of the nineteen-forty-two Packard pulled. And it was Dove who discovered the model while I was blissfully unaware in the fucking gardens huffing pompom patches of hydrangeas, my mother’s favourite flower and by default Delphine’s.

It's admirable, really, what Dove and Rin accomplished in days, we couldn’t figure out for weeks, and all it took was Bae’s obsessive stalking one night to change that. He’d watched Rin flounce away with her sacred green folder with the pretty golden embossed letters. I didn’t even need to pay the contact again. I simply photocopied Rin’s she’d left in Bart’s night table.

Maybe that’s why I let her stay and play with Dove. Because she’s been so damn useful.

“I just picked the closest door to Sylo’s,” I say innocently. “This duvet is so plush, I didn’t see you beneath the covers at first.”

He looks at me, eyes full of confusion and…fear? Why? What’s so scary about a little nephew?

“What? You can’t blame me, right? I expected you to be inside the master suite with Delphine. Your wife. Your love.”

He watches me frozen, his knuckles gripping the duvet turning white.

“But here you are. In a separate room. Did you have a lover’s quarrel?”

He blinks, pulling the covers closer to his chest. “That’s not exactly appropriate to ask, is it?”

I shrug. “We’re already in bed together. I guess I’m just nosey. My parents fought a lot, too. They never shared a bedroom either.”

“Delphine and I are fine.”

“Is that why all of your clothes are in the closet?”

“You went into my closet?” he pulls back and wriggles over to the night table where he attempts to cut on the lamp, but I’d already unplugged it. I like the ambience of the silvery moonlight. The bluish tint to the darkness.

“I had to tinkle, and I confused the doors.”

Silas’s face contorts as he eyes my pyjamas full of little cars. Little nineteen forty Packards.

“There’s the one to the hallway,” he says hoarsely, gesturing to the bedroom door. “Get out.”

“But I just got comfortable. Besides, we never got to truly meet each other, and already it seems our reunion may be cut short due to trouble in paradise. Should I be worried about you and Aunty Delphine?” I ask, cupping my palm beneath my chin and leaning closer toward him on the pillows. The shortened distance makes him sink further against the headboard that rattles against the wall, no doubt in tune with his heartbeat. “I mean, she said you guys married for love, and here you are sleeping separately. I was so excited to have a new family unit, and it’s already crumbling before my eyes. Like a fender on impact.”

His breath hitches, but then he exhales. “Nothing’s crumbling, Gant. I have snoring issues. It keeps Delphine up, that’s all.”

I nod slowly. “A deviated septum? Surgery can fix your airway, then you’ll be as good as new. If you get a surgeon as meticulous as your auto body technician, no one would be able to tell you got work done at all.”

“My auto body technician?” his brows furrow, but then they smoothen before I can answer as realisation dawns.

“Of your Packard. Sylo showed it to me.” I tap the little dark green vintage car on my pyjamas. “It’s my favourite kind of car. I had no idea you owned one. Sylo said you got into an accident two years back, so you rarely drive it. But I couldn’t even tell. It’s pristine, almost like that accident you were in didn’t happen.”

“Gant—”

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