Page 2 of Chandelier Enthralled
I can’t stay.
I must rescue the woman who had destroyed me and somehow, someway, persuade her to recognize her betrayal was a mistake she had never meant to make. The other things—the unforgivable things—where numerous lives had been destroyed, I needed more time to process. I needed to hear her side, hear how she was equally a victim.
We all knew that.
Didn’t we?
My chest ached from the dread I was feeling, the fear that I’d never be able to bring her back from the brink. I had let her in, let her close, and she’d ruined what was left of the good in me. Her actions at Pendulum haunted me.
Still, I’d convinced myself that Amelia was just as much a victim of Pendulum as everyone else.
I stepped out of the bedroom into the hall and closed the door. Peering over the balcony, I was grateful to see a clear path to the front door, and I descended the staircase toward the foyer as quietly as possible.
As I reached the bottom of the staircase, my heart flinched. There he was—the only man who might be able to talk me out of leaving.
Cameron stepped in front of me wearing Armani PJs and a charismatic grin—the kind that could suck your soul out of your body and leave nothing but a shell.
Everyone came to him for solace, for his legendary mindfucks that could lead a man to freedom. But you had to let him in for it to work.
Feeling my throat tighten, I loosened my bowtie.
He met my gaze. “Nice tuxedo.”
This is what happens when you’re thrown into the limelight in front of one of the world’s most proficient psychiatrists—think Freud meshed with Jung and some sketchy philosophy and you have Dr. Cole.
I pretended I had no idea I was wearing his black-tie suit.
His smile faded. “You’re not going back to Pendulum.”
I stepped around him, heading for the door.
“Greyson,” he said, his tone severe.
I looked back at him. “Grabbing some fresh air.”
“It’s a mistake.”
I refused to meet his gaze. I wasn’t in the mood for his scrutiny.
He gestured towards his office. “It’s just chess.”
“It’s never just chess.”
“It’s over.”
“You know it’s not,” I said. “Jewel Hadley is scheming. She must be stopped.”
“You helped her victims escape. You’ve done enough.”
After Atticus had brought me here, I vaguely recalled dismantling Cameron’s bookcase. I looked that way.
“What were you searching for in those books?” He’d read my mind.
“Not sure.”
“Answers,” he suggested.
“I guess.”
