Page 79 of A Dose of Agony
“Everything okay?” He studies me closely, a small frown on his lips.
“Yep.”
He doesn’t look convinced.
“Bad dream,” I add on.
“Want to talk about it?”
I shake my head. “Just going to enjoy the day.”
I sit up and stretch out, working to shed the anxious thoughts from my mind.
I inhale sharply. My chest fills with joy.
On the coffee table by the fireplace, is a massive bouquet of red, green, and blue calla lilies. Even the colored ones are so dark that at the right angle they look black.
I hop up immediately and pick up one of the dark flowers. “Thank you,” I murmur, smelling it and trying to savor the wonderful scent.
Then, I rush back to my bag beside the bed and pull out my journal. I carefully wedge the calla lily between the pages and press it closed.
“What are you doing?” he asks, utterly appalled at my action.
“Saving it.”
“By crushing it?”
I chuckle. “Yes. As wonderful as fresh flowers are, they only last a couple of weeks, like this. The last time you sent me flowers—which I loved, by the way, even if I didn’t want to admit it—I didn’t save any of them, and I regretted it when we were apart. And actually…”
I flip toward the end of my journal and carefully pull out a flattened, dried lily, holding it out to him. Pieces of the dark red pedal flake off the moment his fingers touch it. He looks horrified.
“I received another bouquet—from the jinn, I assume—during that time. I kept one, even knowing it wasn’t really from you because I refused to let some bully taint a good memory. I wanted to have a piece of that time to remember. Now, I have a real one to save instead.”
My heart clenches at the thought that I might need that one day, but I shake off the feeling and allow myself to enjoy the now.
“Why would she send you flowers?”
My chest tightens. I suppose I didn’t explain the gift that had come with that note back when we were tracking them. “They were the same kind of flowers you had given me before, so for a moment, I thought… but the note inside of them read, ‘He’s not yours. He was never yours.’” I keep my gaze steady on the closed book.
Jarron is quiet for several beats. There’s no sign he’s angry or annoyed. He just lets me feel the emotions. Or maybe he’s dealing with his own. I don’t know.
I don’t think I want to know.
“Was she like that?” he murmurs. “It’s been a really long time since I knew Liz. Before the games, was that the kind of person she was?”
“No,” I say quickly, finally meeting his stare. There’s little to read on his expression, though. He’s tense, but that’s all. “No, Liz was kind. Mostly. I mean, she liked attention and sometimes was mean to people who threatened that, but no, she never taunted people. She wasn’t a bully. She cared about me most of all. She wouldn’t want to hurt me like that.”
He scoots off the bed to sit on the ground beside me. “So, why do you think she would do something like that, then?”
I twist my lips. “I don’t know,” I whisper. I honestly hadn’t really thought that through. “We don’t know how much the council is controlling her or watching her. Maybe it wasn’t her idea. Or maybe it was a hint at the council’s motives, without being obvious she was trying to help. Like she had to make it seem harsh so they wouldn’t catch on that she was getting around their rules?”
Jarron’s brow pinches. “What rules?”
My face falls. I forgot some of that information came from Bea. “I don’t know. They didn’t know she was going to put that portal into the pit for me. She left me that note in theBehind Alien Eyesbook. They clearly knew she was taunting me, but she was leaving extra clues for me to find. So, maybe this was one of them.” I shrug.
Jarron’s gaze is distant, his jaw tight. Finally, he seems to shake off whatever deep thoughts took him away. “So, what do you usually do for your birthday?”
I blink at the stark transition. It’s supposed to be a happy day, right. “Nothing,” I say. “Eat cake with Liz. That’s really it.”
