Page 109 of Reflections of Peonies
“You have one, too?” she asked, squinting at the vehicle. “I thought you had a Range Rover. And that Harley. Though, I couldn’t place the model.” She shivered, and guilt rushed over me. Was she recalling our first meeting?
I’d never misjudged a situation so badly in my life.
I would give almost anything to go back and redo that moment. But for now, this worked to distract her. She seemed to know a bit about this topic and paid enough attention to remember the vehicle models. “Are you interested in cars?”
She blinked, turning her attention to me.
“Not building them or anything…” she muttered, gesturing around the room. “But I like looking.”
“Really?” I asked. It was surprising that she was interested in this topic. However, it did seem like her family had various fascinations with fast vehicles.
Caleb Weaver had been a mechanic once. Meanwhile, Gregory Stephens and Declan Dubois both collected vintage cars. Then there was Bryce, who had a fondness for gambling at races. He wasn’t responsible with his money and lost more often than he won.
She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I can imagine what I want! I’m not hurting anyone.”
I raised an eyebrow, wary now. “Imagine what?”
She covered her eyes, the scent of panic filling the room.
“Princess.” I pulled her hands from her face, my mouth drying at her embarrassed expression. How could I make her happy? “What are you imagining? Would you like to take a drive in the Rover? If you want me to buy you a car, I—”
“No.” The redness faded from her cheeks. “I don’t care about passenger cars. They’re boring.” Her gaze drifted toward my modest bike collection across the room.
A sense of foreboding filled me, and it became harder to breathe. “You want a motorcycle?”
“They seem fun,” she said.
“But…” My mind raced. While the thought of riding together excited me, she might get hurt. It made no sense—she feared so many harmless things, but not this?
“Aren’t you afraid?” I asked.
She looked at me like I was an idiot. “Why would I be afraid?”
I pulled at my hair, thrilled yet baffled by her fearlessness. How had she reached this conclusion?
“In any case, a bike wouldn’t be practical for all your needs,” I finally said. “You should still get your license first. It might be more difficult for you to commute to school on a bike—or go shopping.”
Guilt twisted across her expression, and my mind raced back over my words. Had I said something wrong? I didn’t think so.
“I’m quitting school.”
I blinked at her wide-eyed expression and pulled at my ear. Did she say… But hadn’t she threatened to beat up Miles for missing class?
He had been so scared. It was hilarious.
“Pardon?” I asked.
“I’m going to t-t-take off for the rest of the s-s-semester,” she stuttered through the words. “I don’t k-k-know what I want to do anymore.” Her voice washed away my disbelief, and a sudden seething anger burned in my chest.
It was the sound of her fear.
None of us had missed her occasional stuttering. We’d ignored it for now, not wanting to make assumptions, but once Julian had access to Bianca’s medical records and we’d spoken to Finn, some questions had been answered.
Bianca’s stuttering had developed when she was young, most likely due to the trauma she lived through before Abigail found her. Trinity noted that Bianca improved with speech therapy. However, it could be triggered when she wasn’t focusing or when she was thrown back into a negative mindset.
Her hearing, too, was a remnant of that time—Trinity had noted that the likely cause was an extensive head injury.
I struggled to keep my expression neutral as conflicting instincts tugged at me—vengeance and the need for comfort. I’d never felt like this before.
