Page 72 of A Drop of Anguish
I chuckle and flop back onto the couch.
“Much better,” Lola purrs. “Now, lie back.”
Both of them seem to be into this therapy idea all of the sudden, but I humor them and lie on the lumpy, stained suede couch like I’m in a shrink’s office. Except, with a shrink, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. My friends don’t seem to be as gracious.
“You’ve got to start talking to people, Candice.” Janet sits beside me, arms crossed.
I huff. “Is this an intervention?” I’m one part amused by the tactic and one-part terrified they’ll push me out of this really comfortable hiding spot I’ve found in the dark recesses of my mind, where no one judges me for falling in love with my dead sister’s mate.
Over the last two days since I spoke with Jarron in Elite Hall, I’ve been more quiet than usual. Which is saying something because I’m not exactly a chatterbox.
“Yeah, you hold everything in. It’s not healthy,” Lola says, fluttering above me. I sneeze at the pixie dust that falls onto my nose.
“You’re almost as dark and broody as Jarron these days. Did something happen when you went to see him?” Janet says.
“Or are you just worried about the party on Saturday?”
I grimace. “No.” Yes. Sort of. “It’s more like a piling up of a lot of things,” I admit.
“Do you have any idea how much damage miscommunication can do to relationships?” Lola asks.
I want to tell her Jarron and I don’t have a relationship to damage, but then again, I think that’s her point.
“Just talk already!” Lola’s yell is shockingly loud. It rattles my already unsettled nerves.
“I can’t,” I spit. “You don’t understand.” Pain clenches over my chest, and light floods the dark hiding spot in my mind, forcing all the unpleasant thoughts to the surface.
“Then tell us, stupid!” Lola lands on my stomach and puts her hands on her hips. “Explain!”
“It’s something I’m not supposed to talk about. No one is. Even I’m not supposed to know it.”
“What?” Lola tilts her head.
I groan and press my palms to my eyes.
My friends are quiet for a moment while I panic about my explosion of truth. I wasn’t even thinking about the whole mate thing; it just kind of bubbled up.
“So, you know a secret you’re not supposed to,” Janet says slowly after a long moment of silence, working through the riddle I’ve dropped on them. “And it’s eating you alive, but you can’t tell anyone about it because you’re not supposed to know. So, you’re just pushing everyone away instead?”
I release a breath. “Yes.” Yes, that’s exactly it. Never mind that I could talk about it with Jarron, sort of, but I don’t because I’m an absolute coward. But talking about it won’t change anything. And he can’t admit anything anyway because that’s some demon-y sacred secret. “I think Jarron knows that I know anyway.”
“Are you sure?”
“No?” I sit up, and Lola flies up to my shoulder. “But he was there when—” He was there, stabbed and drugged. “He was possibly unconscious when I found out.”
“Oh hell, this is a big one, isn’t it?” Lola whispers. She hovers, spins around, and then resettles on my leg. “Tell us how you know this secret. You learned it somehow at the Akrasia Games thing?”
I swallow and nod. “In the arena, when… Mr. Vandozer…” I trail off again, suddenly uncertain. Obviously, Mr. Vandozer is not a great source of information.
“Mr. Vandozer told you some incriminating information about Jarron, and you’re sitting here like a dummy, believing him? Even now?” Janet’s voice remains hushed even as her tension grows.
“But—” My brow furrows as I consider. “It wasn’t just him. Bea implied it as well, several times. I just didn’t understand it at the time.”
“Bea isn’t any better!” Lola squeaks.
“I talked to Trevor too! And I believe it, okay?”
They quiet. I readjust on the couch, arms crossed. “It’s complicated,” I whisper. “I can’t ever know if it’s entirely true, but that’s part of the problem. And I know Mr. Vandozer believed it wholeheartedly. He built his entire plan around it.”
