Every Last Breath - Armentrout Jennifer L. - Страница 69
- Предыдущая
- 69/75
- Следующая
Curious, I watched as his arm lifted and a raggedy, furry brown head came into view. I clasped my hands together, my mouth dropping open as Zayne pulled out an old, beat-up teddy bear that had seen better days. “Mr. Snotty,” I breathed, reverently.
Zayne had given me Mr. Snotty the night Abbot had first brought me to the Wardens’ compound. I’d only been seven and terrified of the winged creatures with their hard, stone-like skin and jagged teeth.
I’d rushed through the house, found a closet and hid in it until Zayne had coaxed me out of it, offering a once-pristine teddy bear.
I’d loved that thing.
As much as I loved Zayne.
I took the bear, clutching it close as Zayne cleared his throat. “I know you’re not a little girl anymore. Heck, I know if push comes to shove, you could kick my ass now, but I thought...well, you could always use Mr. Snotty. He belongs to you.”
Tears burned my eyes as I buried my face in the top of Mr. Snotty’s head and breathed in deeply.
The scent of what used to be my home clung to the little bear, and I almost started sobbing right there.
Hugging that bear, I wanted to go back in time just so I could get one more hug out of Abbot, before everything went downhill between us.
Blinking back tears, I lifted my face to Zayne. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “I miss you, Layla.”
My chest squeezed like it was in a vise. “You don’t have to,” I whispered, angling toward him as I held the bear. And here we were, finally at the heart of the reason why we were sitting on the bench.
“I’m right here. I miss you, Zayne. I want to be friends.”
“I know. It’s just... I’m not ready for that,” he said, flipping his gaze to the sky. His chest rose with a deep breath. “I like to think that one day I will be. Well, I know I will. One day.”
“I will be waiting,” I told him. “I mean it. I’ll be waiting for that day.”
Some of the weight I carried around my heart eased as Zayne nodded slowly. Then he smiled as he looked over at me, really smiled that full-faced grin that I grew up adoring, and in that moment I knew that there really would be a “one day” to look forward to.
thirty-two
ZAYNE AND I chatted for a little while longer, and when it came time to leave, I was reluctant to part ways. I didn’t know when I’d see him again. I’d been so close to jumping on him and hugging him like I did with Mr. Snotty, but I knew it was still too soon for that.
Teary-eyed, I watched Zayne head across the lawn and I hoped that “one day” became someday soon. I really did.
I gently placed Mr. Snotty back in the bag and when I stood, I started across the lawn in the opposite direction, toward the museums. I was going to text Roth soon, but I needed a couple of minutes to sort through all I was feeling. I was happy that I got to see Zayne and to know he didn’t hate me, but I missed him something fierce. I wished it could be the way it was before he and I had gone down that road, but I couldn’t find it in myself to regret any of what he and I shared. We needed to experience everything we had for both of us to know where we really stood with each other. Although I wanted to force him to be my friend right now, I respected and cared for him too much to not give him all the time he needed. In the meantime, I could only be glad he had Stacey to talk to.
I cut through the benches and tables, focusing on taking deep and even breaths as the bag holding Mr. Snotty swung gently at my side. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I spotted a familiar dark face. Stopping midstep, I turned to my right.
Morris sat at one of the wooden tables, his bushy brows furrowed in concentration. One fingerless gloved hand was balled under his chin and the other hovered over black and white chess pieces that were strategically placed on the game board.
I don’t know what shocked me more—the fact I was seeing Morris out and about when I hadn’t seen him at all since the night Abbot died, not even when I’d returned from the...well, from the dead, or the fact that he wasn’t alone. Across from him sat a raven-haired woman. Dark, oversize glasses covered most of her face, but from what I could tell from her seated position, she was tall and slender, the tawny skin of her hand as it moved over the chess pieces was flawless.
Morris had friends? Lady friends? Lady friends who appeared much, much younger than him? Go, Morris...
The woman moved one of her knights, taking what I guessed was a pawn of her opponent’s. As she scooped the dark piece, a thick cloud crept over the sun, blocking it out suddenly. Startled, I glanced up and frowned. It was so dark it was almost dusk.
An odd shiver curled its way down my spine as I lowered my gaze to them. The shiver spread its chilly fingers across my shoulders. Robin grew restless, sliding off my back and crawling to rest just below my ribs.
Morris glanced up, his soulful gaze finding mine. The skin around his eyes crinkled as he smiled widely. I raised my hand as the sun broke free from the inky cloud and I wiggled my fingers at him.
This was weird.
He shifted his attention back to the chess game, and I had a feeling that I was dismissed, which I was oddly okay with. I didn’t know what was going on there, but I’d started to walk past them, to the sidewalk when a soft, lilting hum caught my attention.
Every muscle in my body locked up as my skin tingled. The hum—I recognized it, would always recognize it. “Paradise City.” The same song Roth constantly hummed, but this time, it was coming from a woman.
It had to be a coincidence, I told myself as I slowly turned back around. The amazingly on pitch tone was coming from the woman sitting across from Morris.
She stopped humming and her red lips curled into a half smile as she reached up, removing the shades. Then she turned her chin toward me, and I saw her face. The woman was shockingly beautiful.
Every single feature perfectly pieced together. High, defined cheekbones, tiny nose and impossibly full lips, but it was her eyes that knocked the air right out of my lungs.
They were the color of two amber jewels...identical to Roth’s.
“You know,” she said, speaking in a voice that was thick like smoke, “he’s always been my favorite Crown Prince.”
My jaw unhinged, and I gaped at her like a fish out of water. My favorite Crown Prince? My? Was she...? Oh my God.
Oh my God! The Boss was a woman!
The woman tilted her head to the side and her black hair slipped over her shoulder. “Ah, I can see the wheels turning in your little head. It warms my bitter heart to know that my Prince is with someone who is at least marginally intelligent.”
There was a good chance my eyes were going to pop out, so that insult pretty much went right over my head. “You’re...”
“I bet you can guess my name. Like that one song says, I do go by many.” The sunglasses dangled from her fingers as she studied me. “Have you wondered why you’re here, Layla?” When I started to glance around, she laughed darkly. “Not here, in this park, you little fool, but standing there with blood coursing through your body and your heart beating in your chest?”
Morris raised his brows again—whether at her latest insult or at the reminder of my near-demise, I wasn’t sure—but he remained silent, as always.
“It was you?” I said after a moment. “You brought me back?”
She didn’t answer immediately. “As I said, Astaroth is my favorite Crown Prince, but I will not raise the dead even for him. At least not without gaining something from it.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand. If it wasn’t you...?”
“Oh, it was me. And you’re welcome.” She slipped the sunglasses back on, but it still felt like she could see right into me. “But it was because of your mother.”
- Предыдущая
- 69/75
- Следующая