Page 42 of House of Pawns
He holds my eyes for a long moment, not answering me.And as I stare into his eyes, I recall so many moments together. Us in the pool outside. Him between my legs on the kitchen counter. The awkward nights in his cabin. Stolen moments alone sleeping in my bed.
And I just know.
“I’m saying I can’t stay here any longer,” he answers. His voice drops. “I’m saying I can’t be with someone I don’t recognize.”
That it’s over.
I swallow hard as the rest of my body goes numb. Finally, somehow, I nod once.
Slowly, hesitantly, Ian walks around me and I can’t watch as he goes. I listen as he opens my door. As he walks into the room that was his. I hear him gather his few things.
And I listen as he walks down the stairs, out the door, and out of my life.
Death was not strong enough to keep us apart. But this game, these politics that I was born into, they’ve ripped it all away.
Chapter
Sixteen
TWO DAYS.
That’s how long I allow myself.
I stare at my ceiling. I lie in my bed. I empty every emotion and heated feeling inside of me. I let it all drain out of me.
Because if I don’t, I will destroy myself. I can feel the beast inside of me, threatening to crawl up in my chest. It wants to take up residence in my throat, it wants to choke the life out of me. It wants to wrap its clawed hands around my heart and give a good, long squeeze.
It wants to force tears out onto my cheeks. It wants to make my breath rip in and out of my lungs with the speed of a jackrabbit.
I think maybe I’m fighting off a panic attack.
Two days, that’s how long my House leaves me alone for.
And then, to my surprise, it’s Cameron who first opens my bedroom door.
“Liv?” he asks tentatively. “May I come in?”
I don’t answer him as I continue to stare at the ceiling.But I hear him step inside anyway and close the door. He walks over to my bed and sits on the edge of it. My eyes slide over to his.
There’s concern there, but it’s shallow. There’s a slight gleam in his eye that I can’t identify. “I brought you some brownies,” he says as he holds up the plate he has.
My eyes drift down to them. My stomach gives a growl. I haven’t eaten anything in two days. “I’m not hungry,” I say as I look back up at the ceiling.
“Trust me, you should try these brownies,” he says as he picks one up and wafts it in front of my nose. “They’ll make you feel alotbetter.”
I give him a curious look and Cameron’s expression is mischievous and excited. Hesitantly, I sit up and fold my legs on the bed. I take the brownie and nibble off a bite.
And my human body suddenly realizes that it does need food, because my stomach growls again and demands more.
I finish the whole thing off in less than thirty seconds. I go to grab for another, but instantly Cameron’s hand is wrapped around my wrist, stopping me. I look up at him in surprise. “I’d pace myself,” he says with a smile and a shake of his head. “These are veryspecialbrownies and not for mass consumption.”
“Cameron,” I say very calmly. “What did you just feed me?”
His eyes are cautious, hesitant. “Just…something to make you feel better.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “There’s weed in those brownies, isn’t there?”
Instead of answering me, Cameron stuffs an entire brownie in his mouth and smiles at me. For a moment I’mhorrified. I’ve never touched marijuana before, and now I’ve just been given it without my permission. But I look at Cameron, and see the hopeful look in his eyes. He really is just trying to help.
