Many men, when you meet them, they give off a vibe. Whether that’s creepiness, aggressiveness, or even kindness, there’s something to see. With him, I didn’t feel hostility, which made me less inclined to freak out. Maybe, subconsciously, I recognized him as familial.
“I brought you here because harboring secrets is really fucking hard,” Mortemor explains and I smile. I love that he swears. Mom only does it when she’s pissed, but it feels like he is much like me in the forced-to-grow-up-too-fast section.
“Secrets,” I repeat. “Pray tell, what could you possibly offer? My entire life has been a lie, my mother is a psycho willing to sell her child for power. The fathers of every guy I’ve ever cared for basically wanted me on their bingo card and finally bartered my hand in marriage.”
With that last word, his face reddens and I can see where the fear of others comes from. I’ve not once seen a man change so quickly. His appearance went from teddy bear to grizzly, ready to strike immediately. But the animosity isn’t directed at me, it’s channeled at Bridger.
He turns to Bridger, his face a far cry from kind. Bridger looks at me with intention. “It’s okay, I fucked up.” How? Did he know?
“You were supposed to get her before she was married. You know they do that shit legally, right?” Bridger nods in understanding.
“I had no clue Midas was going to force a ceremony the same night he announced it,” Bridger explains. “Lennox wasn’t even aware—”
“He’s not good enough for her! Their blood is tainted with the desperation of power,” Mortemor hisses, his face getting redder with each word. “How much will it take for him to turn into his father? Or worse, Elijah.”
Bridger accepts his fault, I can see it. “Punish how you deem fit.”
“Nononono,” I interrupt. “This is not his fault.” Mortemor turns to me, settling his features a ton, and I can’t help but realize he’s soft for me because he cares.
It’s an insane difference from my own mother.
“Please don’t hurt him,” I plead.
Mortemor peers at me with kind eyes, like a mirror to my own. Did he hide them before? Under black ones? Because now, now they seem to match mine with a stark blue hue both Cass and I didn’t have.
“He needs to pay for what he’s done. What you’ve lost.”
“I’m okay,” I reassure quickly. “I care about him. Don’t hurt him.” This time my voice doesn’t falter or sound weak. It’s sure.
Walking toward Bridger, I cling to him. He opens his arms as if knowing I need his comfort. I hug him for the first time in months and let out the most contented sigh known to man.
Unwilling to look at my dad, I hold onto Bridger as if he’ll disappear. He’s all I’ve got here.
“I think you both should shower, change into something comfortable. After, we can eat and discuss our next steps,” Mortem suggests. Bridger’s hold tightens around me and he kisses the top of my head so sweetly I let out an exhale.
I hear his retreating steps before trying to pull away from Bridger, but he stops my escape. “Just a minute longer, Starless. I need this.”
And I let him hold me. Even with his betrayal. I can’t hate him for touching someone when he was never mine… right?
Mortem, along with a guard, escort me and Bridger to the room I’m staying in. By the time we part, I feel at ease. There’s something about the man who says he’s my father that makes me feel safe. I’m not scared or even uncomfortable. Here, I feel at home.
I can’t explain it, but I do.
“Your father gave instruction to not let him stay with you,” the guard announces like it’s a decree, giving Bridger a narrowed stare. I laugh out loud, feeling my face heat.
“He’s cute thinking he’s earned that right already.” The guard’s eyes widen and I wink. “I’m a rebel, dude. Bridger stays.” He shakes his head but walks away.
“That’s risky. For me… and my life,” Bridger mentions.
“He won’t hurt you. I’ll make sure of it.”
“You have so much faith in a man you’ve just met.”
“Ah, I’ve met him before,” I argue. “He visited me twice, and both times he was emotionally supportive when those who should have been were not.”
His lips flatten, his face mostly impassive. “My hands were tied, Colt.”
I shake my head. “We all have decisions to make, Bridger. When I chose you and the guys over and over again, I didn’t expect for you all to not choose me.”
He comes closer to me, setting our bags down. “We chose you in the biggest way.”
“Sorry if that feels untrue from my side,” I grumble, and sidestep him. When I flick the lights on in the room, my heart stops. “N-No,” I stutter, feeling my pulse hammer. Have you ever had a heartbeat in your veins, chest, and ears at the same time?
That’s me.
Right now.
“What?” he asks, peering around the room. “What’s wrong?” My eyes scale the dressers, the coloring, the wallpaper, pictures, and even the old notes I used to have pinned on a corkboard. Much like the one at my old dorm at Arcadia.
Chapter Six
Colt
“It’s my old room,” I mutter. Nostalgia wraps itself over each inch of this room. A time where innocence existed and my biggest worry was school and if the four guys I liked somehow liked me back.
Now… my worry is living, finding Cassidy’s killer, and wondering how I’ll be married to one guy and want all seven equally.
If I can get to the point of not hating them all.
“I never went to your dorm when Cass would see me,” Bridger whispers boyishly. We never had sex, him and I, but we met under the stars at night, spending time in ways the others never experienced.
He’s right, though, during the day, we only saw each other in passing or in classes. At night was when we snuck out. It was hard with Cassidy living with me.
“This is literally everything that went missing.”
“What do you mean?” He scratches his head as if confused.
“I thought you guys trashed all my shit from my room in Crystal.” He stares at me as if I’ve grown a third nipple.
“We didn’t—”
“I can see that now,” I hiss, smacking my forehead. “I’m saying, all this time, I figured you guys stole my shit. Or freaking Tara. She was a suspect too.”