Page 43 of Keeper

Sixteen

I’m exhausted whenI finally make it back to my room. So tired, in fact, that I’m prepared to sleep in this silver, glittery dress — until I see the newest little gift on my pillow.

It’s a mask. All black, big enough to cover my face from my forehead to just under my nose, and absolutely stunning in its details. There’s a note just under it that I pick up a little too quickly.

It’s okay to want this, little keeper.

If you decide to take it, there’s a driver downstairs waiting for you.

Let me give you what he won’t.

Glancing longingly at the sleeping pills resting on my nightstand, I tuck the note away and grab the mask. I know what the consequences are. I do. Maddy has been obsessively tracking my cycle since Ephraim made me take that first pregnancy test, so I know that tonight of all nights, I’m ovulating. There are never any guarantees, of course, but chances are good,reallygood, that following through with this will lead to a baby.

How can I justify bringing a child into this mess?

With so many lives on the line... how can I not?

It’s the same dilemma that kept me from saying yes to Dray immediately. It’s not about me, not really. My life doesn’t matter. It never has. This is about Morella, the children, Dray having to raise his son or daughter as a niece or nephew, Alex having to claim kids that aren’t his. It’s about Ephraim being a controlling, cruel man who has no boundaries, no humanity when it comes to getting what he wants. It’s about Draven Creed being a serial killer. He may not be in it for gratification like most, but I’ve seen him take a life twice now. It would be foolish of me to think he’d never done it before. How many people lost their lives because of him? How many more are just biding their time, waiting for the moment he strikes?

Everything tells me not to do this. Logic, reason, basic human decency.

But the darker parts of me, the ones that led me here in the first place, the ones that have kept me alive so far? They don’t care about the consequences. They want him, want this. They want the thrill, the adrenaline, the taboo. The drama.

It’s not a good look and I know that.

I also know that when push comes to shove, I will protect myself — and I can’t do that by sitting around and hoping something changes. Ephraim knows. He knows it’s not just an issue of timing or luck, he knows Alex’s heart lies elsewhere. The truth won’t save us. Inaction won’t save us. But there’s a chance, however small, that Draven can.

So I grab that mask and I don’t look back.

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When the driver dropsme off at a mansion in Watershed, my hackles rise. I get it, it’s not very smart for Draven to have these types of parties at home where someone can catch him, but this feels... almost as dangerous. Watershed is full of the richest, most well-connected people in Ephraim’s world. I’m sure most of them already know Dray has these parties, but who does he throw them for?

I guess it doesn’t matter. This one’s for me.

There’s no one guarding the front as I slip my mask on and make my way inside. The entire first floor has been gutted, save for staircases that run up to the second floor near the walls and a few scattered support beams. The far side of the house has been turned into a DJ booth, there are strobe lights and speakers everywhere I look, and the crowd is so thick it makes it hard to see where one person ends and another begins.

It’s entrancing.

Already, I see hands slipped underneath dresses, hear the sultry moans of people getting what they came here for.

It’s fucking hot. The exhibitionism, the hedonism, the anonymity of it all... I see why he does this. It’s primal.

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